Penelope Sml 소설 & 이야기

… After Rebecca got her hands on the script for the international film, Penelope had gone to great lengths to try to contact the producer. As soon as they met, she eagerly introduced herself. "Hi, Mr. Olson, I'm Penelope Stinson, an actress from Cyrelia. I'd love to join your film." Zach Olson looked at her in surprise and frowned. "Really? I've heard that Cyrelian women tend to be more reserved and modest, and my film will be—" But before Zach could finish, Penelope interrupted him, "I'm not like that. I'm very passionate about acting."

Once the dinner was cleared away, Penelope stood tall, her face glowing with smug satisfaction. The air around her seemed to pleasurable as she surveyed her prisoners—Brandon and Britney, both bound by her twisted desires. "I know you want Brandon happy," Penelope said, as if speaking to a dear friend, "I'm the one who can give him everything he deserves. Give us your blessing, Brit. You're like the sister I never had."

He hugged her back. “You’re welcome, little lady.” Laurinha giggled and ran off with Heitor to show Celeste their presents. “Well…” Penelope said, drawing our attention. “I know it’s a kids’ party, but I could really use a drink.” “I’m with Penelope on that,” Declan said. “Then let’s hit the bar,” Sammy added, heading off with the others. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself, hothead. I’m Penelope,” my friend said to Chris.

Bryan probed for an answer, “Just work.” Penelope said vaguely and cleared her throat. “Uh… I think I should see your doctor.” She quickly added to avoid any more interrogation. Bryan stared at her for a long while. Penelope decided to preoccupy herself with the setting the lunch Ms. B had made for her. She decided to share it with him. “Penny? I don’t mean any offence. But I promise to pay you back any penny.” He vowed. “No pun intended.” He added mischievously.

I bit my bottom lip, my eyes already set on talking to him. ‘Is he going to be mad once he knows that I’m here secretly because of Jessie?’ I cocked my head to the side as I continued to think, furrowing my brows together. ‘She’s a known, but humble author of a small publishing company. I’m friends with her and she’s sick, so I’m using her invitation as a way in…’ My eyes darkened as I remembered how Joaquin constantly rejected me because I’m a nobody. I’m just an ordinary girl, working in a small publishing company as a copy editor. I mean… I write my own stories since I was young, but I just do it for myself.

Penelope shouted. "Hi, Penny" Ann replied. She knew Penelope did not like being called Penny. "I haven't seen Dolores yet," Penelope asked. "She's sleeping, I suppose, she doesn't like running and waking early," Ann replied. "What a couple you make, so different from each other" Penelope added. "We like diversity, but now I need a shower," replied the tall blond girl, as she unlocked her door.

“Well, look who finally showed up.” Kayla froze. She turned slowly to see Mrs. Penelope standing by the copy machine, her arms crossed over her chest, her lips twisted into a sneer. Penelope had retired two years ago, but she’d come back as a consultant a month earlier—someone who’d “seen it all,” who knew the company’s history better than anyone. And from the moment she’d returned, Kayla had felt her gaze on her, cold and judgmental.

Sarah stated. Penelope turned, irritated, "Are you stupid?" she asked. "Pardon!" "Get out of my sight," Penelope yelled, getting her phone. She had no reason why, but she did not naturally like the girl in front of her, and to make matters worse, she was blonde. She hated blonds. "Ma'am, leave before I call security." Sarah was now irritated. Penelope dialed Ezra's number and put him on a loudspeaker. "Did you order this thing seated at the secretary's desk to throw me out?" Penelope yelled.

I turned toward the window seats, preparing to make my way to my usual spot, when a voice stopped me. “You people must like running your mouths. If you used more of your brain cells than your mouths, the world might actually improve.” Everyone froze. That voice. I turned my head toward the doorway. Penelope leaned against the wall, her black bob tucked behind one ear. A small tattoo peeked out from her neck, and another curled around her wrist. She wore a cropped white top, tiny black shorts, and a bomber jacket. Her arms were crossed, and the look in her eyes could’ve set someone on fire.

She tugged her wrist free and said, half-mocking, half-calm, "Mr. Sterling, you're overthinking. I'm not the type to trip over the same stone twice." She opened the door and stepped out. The cold wind slammed into her and blew away the last of her drunken haze. She sniffed, straightened her back, and shifted to her official, businesslike tone. "Mr. Sterling, that concludes my progress report. I'll be heading home." "Take care." … Sydney thought that after the last fiasco, Penelope would not dare show her face at the clinic again. However, two days later, Penelope appeared with bags of imported fruit and snacks as if oblivious to the stares that followed her. What's more, she was smiling as s