Penelope rushed into the conference room, hoping she remained mostly unseen, especially by her boss and the Editor-in-Chief of Whistledown, Agatha Danbury. Edwina and Genevieve began pestering Penelope the moment she walked in the door about how her night ended, in which she was forced to tell them about Felicity's swift engagement. Now, she was late to the editor's meeting. Agatha did not like when people were late. Whether it be luck, her soft spot for Penelope, or a particularly strong cup of coffee, Agatha barely bat an eye as she made her belated entrance.
When it came to the part of the meeting where Penelope was supposed to speak, she swallowed then held her head high. Even as socially awkward and terrified of public speaking as she was, Penelope was a relatively confident woman, and she was damn good at her job. She cleared her throat and spoke. "Everything is in order for the next publication, Agatha. Edwina has a new human interest piece on the victims of the floods, Genevieve just finished her article on the threat of fast fashion trends and-"
"And the page about the famous travel blogger that you promised me?" Agatha asked with a threatening stare.
Penelope stood her ground. She'd long learned during her six years working with Whistledown, as long as you had your shit together and didn't show fear, you'd gain Agatha's approval. "I am in contact with him, and I promise that it will be ready for next month's publication," she said, only partly lying. She was contacting the man, he just wasn't contacting her back. The arrogant prick.
"In contact? I don't like the sound of that," Agatha replied with a furrow of her brow and a disapproving frown.
"Agatha, I promise," Penelope said seriously, and she meant it. She was nothing if not determined, and she would make damn sure Colin Bridgerton was featured in the next issue of Whistledown. "Now, another tiny detail to discuss," she tried to segue. "My sister, Felicity is getting married in Rome in a few days." She waited, crickets filling the air as she waiting for a congrats or some sort of applause.
"Everyone has sisters," Agatha stated drolly. "What does this have to do with this magazine?"
"I would only be gone a few days, and I swear that the article will still be ready on time," Penelope said determinedly.
Agatha sighed, looking bored and ready for the meeting to be over. "Very well," she relented, standing and packing her things. "But remember, Featherington, you may be talented, but you're still replaceable. Everyone is."
With those words of encouragement, Penelope made her flight to Italy, her mind set on getting ahold of Colin Bridgerton, the man who would determine the rest of her future, in more ways than one.
"Is there no service here?" Penelope whined, holding her phone out the window of the car as far as she was comfortable with. Phones are replaceable, but it would be a damn bitch to get a new one while she was in Italy.
"This is Italia, bella!" The driver said cheerily, gesturing with one hand to the sights around them. "Roma, the city of romance! Enjoy it! Look at the beauty of it!" He urged.
"I'd enjoy it more if I had bars," Penelope mumbled. At least she could tell the time. And the time told her...they were not driving fast enough. "Is there any way you could go a little faster? I'm running late and my sister is getting married in an hour."
"So you said," the driver replied with a laugh. "No problema, bella!" He exclaimed before stepping on the gas, swerving expertly through the city streets and crowds of people. Finally, when Penelope felt like she might hurl, they arrived at the church.
"Grazi," she groaned to the man, willing her head to stop spinning. She reached into the trunk for her bags and pulled them out, thanking the man for all his help and sighing with relief as he drove away.
"Penny!" A shrill voice cried out. She tried not to wince, turning to see none other than the woman who gave birth to her.
"Mum!" She replied, plastering a fake smile on her face.
Her mother looked her up and down. She must have looked a mess, considering the sneer on her face. "You look..." Penelope braced herself. "Exhausted." Not the worst of insults, she supposed. Besides, this was Felicity's day. She could endure a few hours of her mother's judgemental prodding.
"Stop, Mum, she looks beautiful," Felicity said, popping up next to them.
Penelope couldn't help but beam at her, feeling a few tears prick her eyes as she took in the sight of her sister in her fairytale wedding dress. "You look breathtaking, Lissy," she gasped. "Wait, isn't it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?"
Felicity smiled. "I'm marrying the man of my dreams. That's all the luck I need."
"Perhaps you should straighten yourself up, Penny. Get changed into your dress and sort out your hair. Maybe you could get lucky with one of Peppino's cousins."
"Mum!" Felicity and Penelope exclaimed in horror at their mother's suggestion. Portia just shrugged, unashamed.
"Ooh, Pen, I want you to meet Guiseppe!" Felicity said gleefully, dragging her groom over as soon as she spotted him. "Guiseppe, this is my favorite sister, Penelope."
"Ah, Penelope, nice to meet you," the dashing man replied in a thick Italian accent.
Their mother gasped in horror this time. "Felicity, that is disrespectful to your eldest sisters."
Felicity shrugged, leaning into her soon-to-be husband's side. "They're not here right now. Besides, even they know."
Portia reluctantly let it go. "Alright, time to get the bride and groom ready. Lord knows this will be the last wedding I get to enjoy for a long time yet. Felicity shot her sister a sympathetic smile, but Penelope only beamed back, wanting her sister's big day to be nothing but perfect.
Forty minutes later, Penelope waited at the front of the church for the ceremony to begin. She studied Guiseppe as they chatted idly, searching for any sign that he was wrong for her sister. She found nothing. The man appeared perfect for Felicity in every way, and he clearly adored her. Still, Penelope wasn't the firmest believer in true love. How could she be when love had knocked her down so many times?
Just as she was getting lost in these thoughts, a man came stumbling in through the double doors, just minutes before the ceremony was set to finally begin. Penelope eyed him warily, cursing him for nearly causing a disruption to Felicity's wedding. Halfway down the isle, the man's phone started ringing loudly, the song 'Umbrella' by Rihanna echoing through the church. Penelope stifled a laugh as she watched him drop the phone several times before standing at Giuseppe's side.
She briefly wondered what service provider he used and if he might let her make a call or a few emails on his phone. Suddenly, the man in question looked right at her, his piercing blue eyes staring directly into her soul. She shook herself from the trance he had her trapped in and focused her attention on the doors, waiting for Felicity and her mother to appear. She could still feel his eyes on her but easily ignored it as the music swelled and her sister made her way towards them.
Felicity really did make a beautiful bride. When they were kids, well, when Felicity was a kid, she always wanted to dress up and play pretend wedding. Penelope would play the priest, reading from an old book on traditional wedding vows, and one of their stuffed animals would act as the groom, depending on which was Felicity's momentary favorite. They played the game so many times that Penelope knew the recitations by heart. The principles of marriage, the prayer, the joining of the hands. Honestly, she probably could have gotten ordained at the age of fifteen.
As the priest asked Guiseppe and Felicity to repeat the vows, Penelope blinked back a tear, remembering the little girl playing in their mother's oversized white nightgown, and in awe of the woman who stood before her today. Marriage wasn't for her. Love wasn't for her. But it was there for Felicity, and Penelope couldn't be happier.
