Nights With Parker (7 page)

“Thanks,” I say, unbuckling my seat belt. “I hope everything’s okay at the hotel.”

“Me too. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll call.”

“Okay,” I return softly. I had hoped he’d give me a day or two before our next meeting, but that’s clearly not going to be the case. Rather than carry on a conversation or even say a lengthy goodbye, I just gather my purse from the center console and exit the car as quickly as possible. I’m almost positive that I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away, and for a moment, it makes me feel safe, but I push that thought out of my head just as he peels away.

OLIVER

I’ve had a hard-on from the minute Riley walked into the hotel last night wearing that little black dress. The way it clung to her was truly a magnificent sight. She’s stunning, and what makes her even more appealing is that she doesn’t know just how beautiful she is. Getting through dinner was torture, but having to let her go because of an emergency at work was absolute hell. I’d been picturing all the different ways I could peel that dress off her just as the phone rang. A guest fell asleep with a cigarette in his mouth … in a non-smoking room, nonetheless. Thankfully, the moron didn’t kill himself, and the fire was contained to just his room. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t have my father and brother breathing down my neck as soon as they got word of what had happened. What did they expect me to fucking do? Should I do a room check every night to make sure everything is on the up-and-up? I didn’t sign up to run a summer camp. The only bit of good news I received is that last night, the inspection deemed the hotel (with the exception of the affected room) inhabitable.

Now, I’m sitting in my rinky-dink office, and I use the term office loosely, trying to figure out the fastest way to get this shithole up to Parker Hotel standards. The list is massive: new façade, roof, paint, flooring, furniture, linens. In other words, a major overhaul. The most logical thing to do first is to hire an independent contractor to make sure that this place is structurally sound and free of rodents, insects, and mold. Once that’s taken care of, the rest will follow suit.

I hit send on an email detailing this plan to my father and brother when I hear a knock on my office door. I call to whoever it is to come in, wondering where the hell the temporary secretary I’ve hired has gone. I’m not at all shocked that she’s gone rogue … It’s typical.

I know the woman as soon as she walks in, looking a little frightened and unsure of herself. Her blond hair is pulled back into a tidy bun, but I can see that it’s interspersed with a good amount of gray. The beauty of her blue eyes is hidden behind the dark puffy bags underneath, and her frame, which is neatly dressed in all black, is too slender for her build. This woman has suffered and wears it openly, but even through all of that, I can see plain as day that this is Riley’s mother. Today is her first day in her new role.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I’m Colleen Sims, and I …”

“Yes, Mrs. Sims. Welcome back. Was your trainer not out front to meet with you?”

“Actually, sir …”

“You can call me Oliver.”

“Oliver, I just wanted to come in a little early so that I’d have the opportunity to thank you for what you’ve done for me. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do after the housekeeping staff was let go, and ...”

“You don’t have to thank me. I was told you’ve been an exemplary employee, and I need someone who I can trust to manage the new housekeeping staff. Do a good job and that’s all the thanks I need.”

“Of course, sir,” she says with a smile that resembles her daughter’s.

“Thank you for stopping by, Mrs. Sims,” I say, dismissing her quickly. Not because her presence annoys me but because deep down it’s eating at me that I’ve blackmailed this woman’s daughter into sleeping with me. It bothers me that I wanted Riley so badly that I used this woman’s situation to my advantage. Mostly, I dismiss her because I do not intend to change my arrangement with Riley, and it’s easier to follow through if I’m not forced to interact with her mother too often.

When my phone rings again, there’s no need for me to look at the display. After the email I just sent to my father and brother, I know it’s one or both of them on the other line.

“Hello,” I answer gruffly, unable to hide the fact that I’m already annoyed by the phone call. Nothing pisses me off more than being checked up on like an errant child.

“I just got your email,” Jacob states, telling me something I already know. “This timeline is longer than we originally planned for.”

“There’s more work to be done than we were initially made aware of.”

“Oliver, Dad wants this project done as quickly …”

“Jacob, this is my job. This is what I do. I’m the one here, I know what needs to be done, and I’ll get it done as quickly as possible. Believe me, I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to be,” I reply shortly.

He chuckles on the other end of the line before retorting.

“I know how you hate being away from New York, little brother. Not enough easy pussy anywhere else in the world for you.”

“This conversation is over.” I hang up before he has a chance to respond or draw our exchange out any longer. Instead of doing what I came down here to do and focusing on my work, I pick up the phone and dial Riley’s number.

“Hello?” She answers on the second ring, sounding groggy and extremely sexy. It makes me imagine what it would be like to have her waking up next to me in my bed.

“Good morning, Riley. Did I wake you?”

“Oliver?” She questions, clearly trying to fight through her morning haze. My mouth tips up into an unwitting smile.

“Yes.”

“What’s up?” She strains, sounding like she’s mid-stretch. The sound does something to me; it makes me want to drive over there and rip her clothes off.

“Are you working tonight?” I probe because I know exactly what I want to do with her tonight.

“No. I have the night off.”

“Perfect. Be at my hotel at eight pm sharp.”

“I was kind of hoping we could take today off. I have a lot of things to do and—”

“Eight pm sharp, Riley,” I demand, leaving no room for argument. There’s silence on the phone for a moment, and I know she’s likely cursing me under her breath.

“Fine. I’ll see you then.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” I disconnect the call, vaguely noting that the stupid smile is still plastered on my face.
Interesting.
Since up until right now, I didn’t know I was even capable of smiling anymore.

***

The knock on my door comes at exactly eight pm; she must have learned from my reaction to her tardiness last night that promptness is important to me. I’ve never been one to stand for people to waste my time. As I open the door and get my first glimpse of her, it hits me that her subtle beauty always catches me off guard. I’d never grow tired of seeing her face. She stands there with her blond hair pulled back into loose curls cascading down her back. Her fitted shirt alternates white and mint green stripes and falls just short of her thighs. A short pair of white shorts allows me to take in her toned legs, and her bejeweled sandals show off manicured toes. It’s simple yet sexy as hell. Some of the women I’ve dated could take a lesson or two from her.

“Good evening, Riley.”

“Hi,” she responds on a whisper, as if she were telling me one of her most intimate secrets. Suddenly, I find myself wanting to know them all, wanting to know what makes her tick, what it is about her that sets her apart. Moving aside, I allow her entry into the room, watching as she walks inside and looks around nervously. Always appearing to be looking for an escape route, an opportunity to run, but she won’t get away this time. This time, we won’t be interrupted. She turns and looks back at me with that look of innocence that gets me every time.

“Are we going to dinner?” she questions, expectantly, and I look down at her in confusion.

“It’s eight o’ clock at night. Haven’t you eaten?”

“No.” She shakes her head and gives me a shrug of her shoulders. “I assumed we’d be going out.”

I cock my head to the side, wondering if she really assumed that, or if she’s just trying to get us as far away from this room as possible. “Why would you assume that?”

“Because the last two times we were together, we ate out.”

Exasperating. That’s the only way I can describe her. We commence a stare off that’s as ridiculous as it sounds, neither of us breaking eye contact until I finally release a frustrated sigh.

“All right, fine. Come on, we’ll go to one of the restaurants in the hotel.”

“Awesome.” She perks up at the news that her stall tactic has worked. She follows me out of the room, and we ride the elevator down to the restaurant in silence. Thankfully, the hostess seats us immediately, and the server takes my drink order and her food order without delay.

“You’re not going to eat anything?” she questions, and though I’d never let on, I’m transfixed by her wide-eyed gaze.

“I already ate.”

“I’m sorry. I could have waited.”

“It’s fine. The last thing I need is you passing out on me because you’re malnourished.”

My sarcasm garners a small smile from her; one small smile, and it feels like I’ve cured world famine. What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s getting under my skin, and that’s no place for a girl like her to be. It’s no place for any girl but especially not this girl.

“I saw my mom when she got home from work today. She seems to have really liked her first day.”

“Good. I’m sure she’ll do just fine.”

“How long do you plan on being in town, Oliver?”

“Haven’t we gone over this?”

“You never gave me an actual timeframe.”

“I don’t know, a month or two at most. My goal is to get the renovation started and well on its way. Then I can go home and just check in from time to time.”

“Do you travel a lot?”

“I do. I oversee almost every takeover and renovation. Some take longer than others do, and this one will take longer than I’d hoped, but if I’m going to be stuck somewhere, Savannah is not a bad place to be stuck.”

“No, it’s not.”

She takes a sip of her white wine, mulling something over in her head and looking out the window. When her gaze meets mine again, she continues her questioning.

“Do you like it?”

“What?”

“Your job,” she says with a smile. “Traveling around the world.”

“I don’t mind the traveling; I’ve been to some very beautiful places.”

“And the job?” she probes, and I start to realize that Riley is very inquisitive.

“The job is a job like any other.”

“So you don’t like it,” she deduces, and I fight the urge to smile.

“Do you always badger people for information?”

“No,” she quips with a playful grin. I wonder if she knows that she’s flirting. Probably not. “Just you.”

“I don’t like it, okay. I don’t like the process of taking over properties and restoring them. It’s tedious, but it’s what’s needed of me.”

“Well, why do you have to do it? Why can’t you do another job or work somewhere else? Is working for your family your dream?”

“My dream? Jesus, Riley, don’t you think we’re a little too old for dreams?”

“You’re never too old to dream, Oliver. It’s okay to want more or hope for something different.”

“Do you charge by the hour for this advice?”

“Never mind.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s nice that you still have the passion to dream. Is there a particular dream that you’d like to achieve?”

“For a while, I thought I’d become a teacher, but then my dad got sick, and I had to come home from school. I helped Mom take care of him, and once he passed away, I had to help her. I couldn’t just leave her alone to deal with everything on her own. It wouldn’t have felt right.”

“So you sacrificed your dream.”

“Is it a sacrifice if you’re doing it for love?”

Is it a sacrifice if you’re doing it for love …
I can’t help but be moved by her reasoning, by her devotion to family, but in meeting her mother for only a few minutes, I can see why she’d be so devoted to her. Something about her reminded me of my own mother; I could see the kindness and humility behind her eyes. I catch the same look in Riley in rare unguarded moments, when she forgets the reason she’s currently tied to me.

“Sacrifice or not, I’m sure it’s worth it.”

“It is,” she replies instantly. She doesn’t have to think about it, weigh out the pros and cons, or think about all that she’s had to give up for the betterment of her family. If I had to take a guess, I’d say this woman doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body—just look at what she’s doing with me all so that her mother can stay employed. I could easily hate myself for what I’m doing to her, what I’ve gotten her to agree to through blackmail. If I were a better man, I’d call this off, let her off the hook, and let her walk away from me free and clear. The problem in that is that if I do that, then I lose her, and the promise of her is too good to give up. It only confirms what I already knew. I’m not a good man.