Nights With Parker (20 page)

“Why do you say that?” I question, hating when he says things like that, when he puts himself down or puts me on a pedestal I don’t belong on. “Why do you think that I’m too good for you? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“No. You came to me with a problem and asked me for help. Instead of doing the right thing, I put you in an impossible position. You didn’t do it for money, or greed, or to be seen on the arm of someone wealthy, you did it so that you could help your mother.”

“I’m not saying what you did wasn’t wrong, but I just think that you were in a bad place, that maybe you weren’t thinking of the consequences of what you set in motion. But Oliver, you’ve more than turned that situation around, don’t you think?”

“I’m glad you think so.”

I love you,
I think to myself but still can’t bring myself to say the words. He thinks I’m some kind of martyr because I allowed him to blackmail me, but maybe I’m just a coward, afraid to fight for the things that I want. I’m living my life in a haze, doing what comes easiest instead of what I’d like, loving in secret instead of telling him how I feel. I should tell him. I should, look him in the eye, tell him that I love him, and ask him to stay. Instead, I let the words sit on the tip of my tongue instead of setting them free.

Coward …

OLIVER

“Dad’s on the warpath again. He got served yesterday with divorce papers, and he’s about to blow a gasket.”

This comes from Jacob, who has been a completely different person ever since he found out about what had been happening between our parents. I’d actually go as far as to say that he’s likable now.

“She actually did it, huh?” I question. Mom had mentioned that she was considering filing for divorce, and I encouraged that decision, but I didn’t want to push the issue. I want to let her do what she needs to do at her own pace. This transition has been hard enough on her without Jacob and me breathing down her neck. We both agreed to just be there for her and support her decisions, as long as she wasn’t planning to go back to Dad.

“Yeah, I’m shocked but happy for her.”

“What did Dad do?”

“He lost it. She had him served at the office, midday, when everyone was still here.”

“That was brilliant,” I say with a smile, loving that she had the guts to serve him at work. It must have been absolutely humiliating for him. Appearances are very important to my father, almost as important as money.

“It was. He threw a glass paperweight. Shattered some glass and then stormed out of the office. The gossip mills are in full force today.”

“Of course.”

“Anyway, he’s focusing in on the Savannah hotel today. I’ve told him it’s on track, and that I’ve already gotten a progress update from you, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he calls you. He wants to fuck with someone today, and it’ll probably be you.”

“Wonderful. I’ll be expecting his call.”

It’ll come, it always does. I’m my father’s go-to person to take his frustration out on, especially now that my mom has left him. I’ll gladly take it, though, if it means that she doesn’t have to deal with it anymore. The only good thing about the London project coming up right after I finish with Savannah is that it will put me on a totally different continent as him. Even that’s not far enough away

**

I’m already on edge when I walk into the restaurant tonight. As expected, a phone call from my father came just before I was finishing up for the day. I should have ignored it, but I can’t seem to help myself with him. I never want to give him the opportunity to think that I’m hiding or afraid to hear what he has to say. I can’t ever let him think that he has power over me. The phone call went from bad to worse when he changed topics from discussing the hotel to telling me that he wasn’t going to rest until that bitch mother of mine got what was coming to her. Needless to say, that didn’t go over well with me. It ended when he hung up on me after a pretty fucked-up verbal sparring match. I’m actually shocked I still have a job, but I honestly do not care.

The hostess greets me, and as always, seats me in Riley’s section. She leaves a menu for me, but I don’t even bother looking at it. My eyes are scanning the restaurant looking for my girl. Our eyes lock at exactly the same time, and she rewards me with a smile that I swear could bring a man to his knees.

“Hi, babe,” she says when she reaches me and bends down to give me a quick kiss. I don’t think she’s ever referred to me as that before. She usually just calls me by name. I have to admit I like it, though.

“Hi.” I turn in my chair and put my hands on either side of her waist. “These are very short,” I say of her poor excuse for a uniform.

“It’s required.” She bites her bottom lip; it’s seductive and sexy, and it has the exact desired effect. “Besides, I like the way my boyfriend looks at me when I wear these.”

“Do you?” I look up at her, and I know she feels the electric charge in the air between us. It’s impossible to miss.

“I do,” she replies quietly. Yes. She definitely feels it. “I’m going to get you something to eat. You want a beer?”

“I’ll have whatever you bring me,” I tell her. She walks away, and she’s right, I absolutely stare at the way her ass sways as she heads toward the kitchen.

It’s after she’s brought me my dinner that all hell breaks loose. She’s at the bar placing a drink order for another table, and I witness a drunk asshole put his hands on her waist, much like I’d done earlier. I stand up, ready to step in, but she slips out of his hold easily enough. I’m just about to sit back down when the asshole puts his hand on her ass. I’m pretty sure I see her slap his hand away, but by that time, I’m halfway across the room. Riley is trying to walk away from him, but she freezes when her eyes lock on me. I hear her call my name, but something in me snapped at the sight of his hands on her. A level of rage and fury that I’ve never fucking felt before in all my life emerges. Not even when I pulled my father off my mother have I felt like this. It’s his face I see, though; it’s his face that my fist connects with over and over again. I yell at him never to touch her again, to keep his fucking hands off her, and I don’t know if I’m talking about my mother or Riley, but I think that maybe it’s both of them. The only two women I’ve ever felt anything for.

He gets in a couple of swings, but it doesn’t deter me. I come back at him each time, knocking him back. It takes two people to pull me off him, and as they do, I’m still yelling at him, cursing at him, as Riley tries to explain to whoever is dragging me out of the restaurant that I was only defending her.

“This is not that kind of place, Riley. You know that,” a man says after he lets go of my arm. I’m assuming that he’s the owner of the place, though I’ve never met him before.

“I know, Jim,” she says, but I don’t let her get another word in.

“No, it’s the type of place that lets their waitresses walk around half naked so that they can get manhandled by drunk idiots.”

“Riley, handle this situation now. I’m going to make sure that guy doesn’t press charges against your friend here. That’s the only thing I can do for you,” he says to her. She nods, and he walks away, with the other guy who dragged me out following him in.

“Are you okay?” she asks, lifting her hand to touch my cheek, but I jerk away.

“I’m fine.”

“It’s red. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“Get your things, let’s go.”

“I’m still on shift. I can’t leave.”

“What?” I ask because I can’t believe that she actually wants to go back in there after that guy touched her like that. “You’re actually going back to work?”

“Oliver, please. Please, just go. I’m off in an hour. I’ll come to the hotel, and we can talk then.”

“You actually expect me to leave you here after what just happened?”

“Yes. I expect you to leave me here and let me handle it before I lose my job and before they decide to press charges against you.”

“Riley.”

“I’m asking you to respect my wishes now. Just go.”

“I can’t.”

We’re in a standoff, but I’ll be damned if I leave her here to deal with this on her own. I’m not sure how long we stand there staring at each other, both of us pissed off, but I’m relieved when she breaks first. She lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Wait here,” she says, turning and walking away, back into the restaurant. It’s probably only five minutes before she comes back out, but I’m on edge the entire time that she’s in there.

“Let’s go,” she says when she reaches me.

“Where’s your car?”

“It’s in the back parking lot; it’ll be safe.”

I want to grab her hand and walk her to my car, but something tells me that it wouldn’t go over well right now. She’s angry with me for causing a scene, but I won’t apologize for defending what’s mine. We reach my car, and she gets in before I can so much as open the car door for her. I’m not quite sure what to do. With the exception of how we started out, she’s never been this angry with me. I can’t even recall an argument in the months since we got together.

I drive to the hotel, and on the way, I ask her if she’s okay, but she just mutters a fine under her breath. I try to engage her again, but she goes on looking out the window with her arms crossed over her chest. I’m grateful when we pull up to the hotel. I don’t bother parking the car myself, I just hand over the keys to the valet, and together, Riley and I walk inside. The elevator ride is silent, filled with nothing but tension. When I let her in the room, she tells me she’s going to take a shower and attempts to walk away from me.

I’m done with her silent treatment by that point. I can’t handle it, not from her, not from Riley.

“Baby, wait,” I say grabbing her arm before she can walk away. I turn her until we’re face to face, and though she tries to hide it, there’s so much emotion in her beautiful face. I don’t even know how to begin to sort through it all.

“Talk to me.”

“What would you like me to say?”

“I don’t care what you say, just say something.”

“Okay. Why? Why would you do that? I had it under control.”

“Yeah, I was fine right up until the minute he touched your ass.”

“Oliver, you didn’t have to hit him. You could have handled that entire situation differently.”

“No. I couldn’t have.”

“Why?”

“Because it is not okay for me to sit there and do nothing while another fucking man puts his hands on the woman I love. It’s never going to be okay.”

She rocks back on her heels. Her eyes wide, her pretty mouth opens with a surprised intake of breath, as I realize what I’ve just said.

“You … you love me?” It’s a simple question, but there’s so much hope laced within it. The answer is scary because our future is filled with so much uncertainty, but I can’t exactly lie to her or deny it now.

“I do,” I tell her, grabbing hold of her hand and pulling her close. “I knew you were special from the start; I think that’s why I couldn’t let you walk away from me that day. That’s why I did what I did to have you.”

“I love you too. I was just scared to tell you.”

Pulling her closer, I wrap my arms around her waist and hers hook around my neck.

“I love that you love me, but I hate that you were scared to tell me. I hate the idea of you being afraid to tell me anything.”

“I was scared you didn’t feel the same way.”

“From the moment we met, you’ve made me absolutely crazy,” I murmur, and she giggles. It’s melodic, happy, and I realize that that sound alone was worth me telling her that I love her.

“You are crazy.”

“I am.”

“So crazy that you can’t come visit me at work anymore,” she pouts. At this, I pull away from her slightly, not liking what I’ve just heard. Not one fucking bit.

“Says who?”

“Says my boss. You’re not allowed back there.” She shakes her head at me. “And he said I was lucky he didn’t fire me on the spot.”

“Like hell, I’m not allowed back there,” I half yell, getting agitated. I don’t like her working at that place, I don’t like the fucking outfit she has to wear, and I don’t like the idea of fucking men touching her. “If you’re there, I’m there.”

“That’s not how it works, Oliver.” Her voice is raised now, matching my tone. Of course, we would have an argument moments after declaring our love for one another. That’s just fitting. “You may not like it, but that’s my job.”

“A job that I’ve told you to quit countless fucking times.” I push the issue, throwing my hand out to the side for effect.

“And what?” she spits out taking several steps back. She looks at me as if she can’t believe my nerve. As if she can’t believe I would actually want better for her than working at some place where she’s getting groped left and right.

“You could do so much more, baby. You can go back to school, you can bake your cakes, I don’t care what it is, but you’re living your life in a holding pattern, and I don’t understand why.”

“Like you’re one to talk. You’re doing the same thing. You hate working for your father, but you do it anyway.”

“We’re not talking about me; we’re talking about you, about your wasted potential.”