Outmatched: A Novel

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Outmatched: A Novel Page 17

by Kristen Callihan


  Shit!

  Rhys was right. That felt good. “Shoot” just didn’t alleviate the feelings of frustration the way a curse word did. And let’s face it … I was in deep shit.

  Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

  “Shit.”

  “Parker Brown,” Mom hissed. “Language.”

  By this point, Easton was giggling so hard, I’d have sworn she was drunk.

  Cheeks blooming red, I threw my mother an apologetic look. “Sorry. It’s just …”

  “It’s just what?” Dad strode forward to cup my cheek.

  The concern in his dark eyes made me hate myself even more.

  “Peanut, what’s going on here?”

  Staring into my father’s eyes, I curled my hand around his wrist and gave him a tremulous smile. “I just thought I’d have more time to adjust to being in a relationship again before I introduced Rhys to you all.” The lie tripped off my tongue, every word making me more and more nauseated.

  That feeling was further compounded by the relief I saw on my dad’s face. “Peanut, I’m just glad to see you moving on. If you need a little more space, we can do that.”

  “Of course.” Mom squeezed my arm, giving me a small smile. “I don’t know how we can give you much space right now since we’re all at the same party, but I promise not to push for a family dinner with Rhys just yet. Rhys.” She smiled at my father. “That’s a solid name, don’t you think?”

  Dad returned her smile and then focused on me again. He brushed a thumb over my cheek before releasing his hold on me. “All I know is he must be something special to have caught our Parker’s eye.”

  It didn’t surprise me that my parents couldn’t care less that Rhys wasn’t of society. All they cared about was seeing me happy again.

  And that was what made lying to them so goddamn awful.

  “Parker!”

  Feeling exhausted by my mental self-flagellation, I had to paste on a smile as I turned toward Jackson and Camille. My boss strode across the lawn with his fiancée, and they weren’t alone. A woman around my height, a little curvier, dressed in a white, conservatively cut summer dress accompanied them. Her shining dark hair was styled into an immaculate bob and when she raised her arm to take a sip of champagne, sunlight dazzled off her diamond tennis bracelet. Her face was strangely ageless, either because of enviable genetics or the best plastic surgery I’d ever seen. She could be anywhere between thirty-five and fifty and you wouldn’t know, unless you asked.

  However, since her face was also familiar, I knew she was forty-seven years old.

  She was Diana Crichton Jones. Billionaire. Her grandfather opened an asset management company in the mid-1940s. Her father then ran it, and when he died, Diana was twenty-three. People scoffed when she stepped up to take his place as CEO.

  However, Diana had proven to be the best thing that ever happened to Crichton Investments and Research. They now had over $2 trillion in assets under management. Moreover, she had private investments that took her personal fortune to a staggering number.

  I knew all this because she was a very impressive woman and it was difficult to not have heard of her when you grew up in society.

  However, I had never met her.

  Until now.

  Momentarily distracted from the disaster unfolding between me and my family, I shook Diana’s hand when Jackson introduced her, and then introduced my family to my boss, his fiancée, and the somewhat awe-inspiring billionaire.

  My father, with his usual canny instincts, seemed to sense that Jackson had brought Diana over for a reason. He touched a hand to my mom’s lower back. “Why don’t we get another drink?”

  Mom nodded and gave my boss a little wave as she allowed Dad to lead her away.

  “I’m … with them.” Easton threw me another cheeky grin before hurrying after my parents.

  Relaxing marginally to be out from under their watchful gazes, I turned to Jackson.

  I recognized the light in his eyes as excitement. It was the same light I’d seen when he realized how significant my suggested changes to the forecast model were going to be.

  “Parker, I don’t know if you know this, but Diana is very interested in the future of renewable energy, and I was telling her what an asset you’ve been to our team.”

  There was something emphatic in his tone I didn’t quite understand, but I smiled anyway, pleased by his praise. “Thank you, Jackson.” I turned to Diana, feeling a little nervous in her presence. She had steely gray eyes that seemed to look right through you. “You’re interested in renewable energy?”

  “Very much so. I’m interested in anything that’s important to our future.” Diana stepped toward me, tilting her head slightly as she inspected me. “So far I haven’t come across that many women in your field. Not that there aren’t any. It’s just very male dominated.”

  “Engineering tends to be.” I shrugged as if to say, “What can you do?”

  “True. I was telling Jackson I’ve been looking to invest with a renewable energy company but I’m very cautious about where I put my money and my own energy.” She gave me a cool smile. “I don’t like male-dominated companies. I like diversification. I like passion. I like to know that a company hires the best because they are the best and not because they have a dick.”

  Blinking at her blunt language, I felt a bubble of laughter on my lips as I wished Rhys were over here. He’d like her forthright manner.

  This time I blinked because, whoa.

  When did Rhys become part of my equations?

  “I almost passed over Horus when I saw there were no women on their roster. But then you showed up and not only that, according to Jackson here, you’ve shown up impressively. There are no other companies using a model like yours. Which is why you’re gaining the traction you are abroad.”

  I nodded, knowing all this but wondering where Diana was going with it.

  “I have a real passion for green energy, Parker.”

  Excited to hear that, my nervousness melted away and I found myself conversing with Diana Crichton Jones about our model, about the urgent need we had as a world, not just a nation, to introduce the right infrastructure to institute electric-only vehicles, about corruption, about the true effectiveness of wind energy, solar panels … we even talked about my little hybrid bike. She was thinking about buying one.

  Diana. Crichton. Jones.

  If I could convert one billionaire at a time in this country to go green, I might save the planet.

  Okay, that was melodramatic, but this was exciting stuff!

  “You were right.” Diana smiled at Jackson, whom I’d almost forgotten was there with Camille. “Parker is everything you said she was.”

  Jackson grinned. “Yes, she is.”

  Diana sobered. “I’m interested. Leave it with me.”

  My boss turned serious too. “Excellent.” He raised his glass to her.

  She nodded at him, then Camille, and then turned to shake my hand. “It was nice to meet you, Parker. We’ll hopefully speak again soon.”

  “Yes.” I was suspicious about what had just passed between her and my boss, and those suspicions meant I hoped I’d speak with her again soon too. “I’d like that.”

  With that, she departed, crossing the lawn to stop at the side of a tall, distinguished-looking gentleman who slid his arm around her waist and leaned down to whisper intimately in her ear. I turned to Jackson.

  “What was that?”

  Jackson was beaming from ear to ear. “I was glad I hired you when you made those changes to the model. Now, I thank fuck I hired you, Parker.”

  Camille laughed at his side as my eyes widened at his effusive cursing.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Hopefully, you will. Very soon.”

  Suspicions formed in my head, a little glimmer in the back of my consciousness that clung to the hope that Jackson was working on replacing Fairchild. He could just be attempting to bring in a new investor alongside F
airchild so there was no point getting my hopes up.

  But it was hard for a girl not to dream.

  Jackson and Camille wandered off, leaving me speculating over our interaction with Diana. I searched the lawn for Rhys. He was no longer out there with Fairchild. Thankfully, I couldn’t see my parents either.

  Or maybe not so thankfully.

  Anxiety ripped through me at the idea they might have hunted Rhys down and were “interrogating” him. Hurrying across the lawn back to the house, relief flooded me when I saw Rhys step outside. I knew he’d been watching for me by the way he strode deliberately toward me.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, a little breathlessly. “I got caught up with Diana Crichton Jones, who is a billionaire with a passion for green energy. I think I convinced her to buy a hybrid electric bike. Can you believe that? Diana Crichton Jones on an electric bike.”

  Rhys’s lips twitched as he studied my face. “Converting people to green really gets you going, huh?”

  I shrugged, glancing at the party behind me. “It’s more fun than talking about terrible nannies, investments, and where I plan to summer.” I turned back to him. “FYI, I plan to summer in Boston. And by “summer”, I mean working like 99 percent of the rest of the world’s population has to do.”

  He grinned. “Your family doesn’t summer?”

  “When we were kids, we spent the season in our vacation home in Cape Cod, but my mom and dad only spent two full weeks of that with Easton and me. They both worked. My mom’s sister, Aunt Debbie, is a writer, so she would care for us the rest of the time. Mom and Dad would fly to the cape on the weekends and then back to New York for Monday. It was a lot. I didn’t realize that then, but they did what they could to be there for us.”

  “They could’ve kept you in New York with them.”

  “They could have. But summer in New York can be miserable, and our cape house is right on the beach.” I’d loved our childhood summers in Cape Cod. Until I met Theo and begged my parents to let me stay in New York so I could spend the summer with him. They’d relented.

  “Speaking of your family, how’d that go?”

  Remembering the lies I’d told my parents, I blanched, looking away. “It went.”

  There was such heavy silence from Rhys, it drew my gaze to him. A muscle flexed in his jaw and his eyes were flat. “They’re pissed you’re dating someone like me.”

  Why would he think that?

  Opening my mouth to deny it, I was cut off by, “Rhys! There you are.”

  Fairchild.

  Something dark flickered over Rhys’s face before he turned to my boss’s boss with a strained smile. My eyes drifted over Fairchild’s determined expression, and I shivered at the hardness in his gaze.

  Rhys moved into me, sliding his arm around my waist and drawing me to his side.

  “Where did you go to?” Fairchild came to a stop in front of us. “One minute you were there, the next, poof.” My boss flicked me a look. “There’s no doubt who’s to blame. You can’t seem to keep your hands off this one, Morgan.”

  I tensed against Rhys and felt him squeeze my hip in reassurance.

  “What can I do for you?” Rhys bit out, and there was no hiding his impatience.

  Concerned, I looked up at him to gauge his expression, and he was staring blankly at Fairchild.

  Fairchild narrowed his eyes at Rhys’s tone. “Well, for a start, we can finish our conversation. Now, I’m happy to come look at that gym of yours, but I’d be even happier to do it if you’d just listen to me.”

  Feeling Rhys’s grip on my hip turn bruising, my concern escalated. “Rhys, what’s going on?”

  “Or perhaps Parker can convince you since she seems to be holding your balls captive.”

  I sucked in a breath at Fairchild’s insult.

  Rhys made a step forward in agitation.

  I pulled him back, not understanding what was happening here. “Rhys?”

  “I’m trying to set up a private fight for your boyfriend, Parker, and it will make him a lot of money.” Fairchild looked from me to Rhys and then back to me. “Perhaps you can convince him not to be a fool and accept this invitation.”

  With that, the slime strode back to the garden party, and I watched in stunned silence before turning to Rhys. Avoiding my gaze, he marched toward the house.

  What the ever-loving …

  Hurrying after him, I caught up in the foyer. “Rhys!” I grabbed his wrist, pulling him to a stop. He glared down at me in a way I once would have found intimidating but now just found maddening. “Where are you going? What is going on?”

  He flicked a look at a passing server, and then removed my hand from his wrist. He then clasped my hand in his, and I could feel his anger as he pulled me along behind him. We cut down a hall that was clearly off-limits to guests, and Rhys pushed open a door. He guided me in first, and I stumbled into the room, hearing the door close behind him.

  We were in what I could only presume was a TV room that faced the front of the house. There were two short steps leading to a lower level, where a massive seven-seater sofa was placed directly in front of a projector screen. On the shelves beside Rhys and I was a modern projector along with shelves and shelves of DVDs.

  “Why are we in here?” I turned to face him. “Fairchild—”

  “Wants me to fight. Yeah.”

  “In exchange for helping you with the gym?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, expression dark but removed. He didn’t respond.

  Suddenly, everything made sense.

  “This was your plan? From the moment you met Fairchild?”

  “My gym is in trouble. It was an opportunity.”

  For some reason, that stung. “I see.”

  “Do you?”

  His countenance, although still cloudy, was no longer distant. In fact, his green eyes were burning in a way I recognized. A shiver tickled down my spine.

  This one was the good kind.

  “Rhys,” I whispered, “how far are you willing to go to save your dad’s gym?” I stepped toward him and placed a tentative hand on his hard chest. His heart was pounding. “Don’t do it. It’s not worth what it’ll cost you.”

  Our eyes met and held, a heavy silence falling thick between us. My breathing shallowed as his eyes dipped to my mouth, resting there as he bit out, “What about you? What about what you’re willing to do to impress Fairchild and the people who sniff at his ass? Why the fuck do you care what these people think?”

  Confused by the subject change, I moved to step back, lowering my hand, but Rhys caught my wrist and pulled me against him. I uttered a little gasp, one hand falling against his abs while he kept the other imprisoned against his chest.

  “Rhys?”

  “Why?” he growled.

  I didn’t understand why I was the object of his anger. It wasn’t that he was transferring his frustration with Fairchild to me; I realized that Rhys had been visibly annoyed with me almost from the moment we’d arrived. What was more alarming, however, was the current of sexual heat that accompanied that annoyance.

  I didn’t understand it.

  Rhys kept telling me this was just a job to him.

  Yet he was looking at me now like he wanted to devour me.

  “Rhys?”

  “Why?”

  My nerves were stretched taut by this point and my patience snapped. “I don’t care what these people think!”

  “Bullshit!”

  My chin jerked back at his vehemence. “Not bullshit.”

  Rhys’s eyes widened marginally at my cursing.

  Defiant, aggravated, turned on, confused, I tried to pull away again, but his other arm wrapped around my waist, imprisoning me against him. “Let go.”

  “Why do you care what these people think?”

  “I don’t care what they think! I care what my parents think!”

  To my utter confusion, Rhys’s beautiful eyes darkened with fury. His grip on me tightened, pulling me up onto my
tiptoes, and he bent his head so our noses were almost touching. “You’re fucking thirty years old,” he seethed. “Time to get your head out of your ass and start living for yourself.”

  “Oh, you hypocrite—”

  His mouth crushed down over mine, and he released my wrist. I knew I should push him away, stop a kiss that had nothing to do with our pretense, but I didn’t want to. I loved the way he kissed. Demanding and hungry. No one had ever kissed me like Rhys. My skin had been hot from our inexplicable animosity but now it was burning. I clutched at his body, trying to press deeper, and Rhys let out a little growl of frustration that rumbled sexily in my mouth.

  Suddenly I was off the ground, Rhys’s hands under my armpits, lifting me up as he continued to kiss me. Instinctively I realized it was uncomfortable for him to bend down to me, so I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, my legs around his waist, and felt him stumble back against the door.

  One of his hands slid under my dress to cup my ass while his other curled around my nape. Unbelievably, the kiss grew more voracious. Everything disappeared in that moment. Everything but Rhys and how my body could fit to his. I found myself rocking my hips, and Rhys broke the kiss to mutter “Fuck” against my mouth before capturing it again.

  I was aware of us moving as we kissed, and a few seconds later, our lips disconnected as something soft hit my back. Rhys came down over me, not giving me a chance to react to the fact that I was now sprawled on the sofa.

  His hips fell between mine, and I gasped into his mouth as I felt him nudge between my legs. Oh my God, he was hard. A lick of lightning heat scored down my spine, and my thighs closed around his hips, my fingernails biting into his shoulders to pull him closer.

  His lips trailed away from my mouth, whispering hotly across my skin, as he lightly tasted his way down my throat. I whispered his name, tilting my hips, needing to feel more of him, and trembled as his hand glided up my inner thigh.

  My eyes flew open as his lips followed a path down my chest, while his fingers slipped beneath my underwear. Two thick fingers suddenly pushed inside me, and I whimpered and arched my back into his touch. His grip on my hip turned bruising, and I heard him murmur hoarsely, “So tight.”

 

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