The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 13

After the party, everyone left in high spirits.

Only Wilma remained. With her shoulder-length bob, leather jacket, and love for motorcycles, she projected a cool, tough-girl image, but she had a soft spot for Penelope and loved to act like a clingy younger sister.

Right now, she was holding onto Penelope’s arm, refusing to let go. “Boss, take me with you. What’s the point of living if I can’t see you every day?”

Penelope sighed and tapped her on the forehead. “Oh come on, how old are you?”

“Younger than you.”

“Yes, you are. Which means if you ever run into trouble, you call me.”

The tough girl’s eyes reddened, but she tilted her head back, refusing to let the tears fall. “Boss, that friend of yours is bad news. Be careful around her,” she whispered.

Penelope nodded. “I know.”

“I’m serious. Don’t brush this off.”

“I’m not a fool.”

“Of course you’re not. You’re brilliant. But even the smartest person can be blindsided by a traitor.”

The kid saw things clearly. The curse of being too close to a situation.

After sending Wilma off, Rebecca emerged from the restaurant. She had insisted on paying the bill, snatching it from Penelope’s hands, but what was one dinner bill compared to the million dollars Penelope had just given away? A cheap attempt to buy loyalty.

“Penelope, are you taking a taxi?” Rebecca asked, walking over.

Penelope ignored the question, her eyes narrowing. “You didn’t drink tonight. You toasted with water.”

Rebecca paused. “I… I just didn’t feel like drinking.”

“No, that’s not it. You’re hiding something from me.”

“What could I possibly be…”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?”

Rebecca flinched. She hadn’t expected Penelope to guess so quickly.

Seeing her reaction, Penelope’s voice became firm. “You are pregnant?!”

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