“Oh, Bailey, yes. It’s good to hear from you. Mr. Davidson said you’d be phoning.”
“I missed him by only a few minutes.”
“How frustrating for you both. I’ve been concerned about him this morning.”
“You have?”
“Why, yes. Mr. Davidson came into the office and he couldn’t seem to sit still. He got himself a cup of coffee, then two minutes later came out again and poured a second cup. When I pointed out that he already had coffee, he seemed surprised. That was when he started muttering under his breath. I’ve worked with Mr. Davidson for several years now and I’ve never known him to mutter.”
“He was probably thinking about something important regarding his work.” Bailey was willing to offer a face-saving excuse for Parker’s unprecedented behavior.
“That’s not it,” the woman insisted. “He went into his office again and came right back out, asking me if I read romance novels. I have on occasion, and that seemed to satisfy him. He pulled up a chair and began asking me questions about a hero’s personality. I answered him as best I could.”
“I’m sure you did very well.”
“I must have, because he cheered right up and asked me what kind of flowers a woman enjoys most. I told him roses, and a minute later, he’s looking through my phone book for a florist. Unfortunately no florist could promise a delivery this morning, so he said he’d drop them off personally. He phoned a few minutes ago to tell me you’d be calling in sometime today and that I should take a message.”
“I just got back from lunch.”
So Parker’s morning hadn’t gone any better than her own, Bailey mused, feeling almost jubilant. She’d managed to put on a good front for Jo Ann, but Bailey had felt terrible. Worse than terrible. She hadn’t wanted to discuss her misery, either. It was much easier to pretend that Parker meant nothing to her.
But Jo Ann had been right. She was miserable.
“Could you tell Mr. Davidson I’ll be ready at seven?” She’d call Jo Ann later and tell her she wouldn’t be able to make the critique group, after all.
“Oh, my, that is good news,” Roseanne said, sounding absolutely delighted. “I’ll pass the message along as soon as he checks in. I’m so pleased. Mr. Davidson is such a dear man, but he works too hard. I’ve been thinking he needed to meet a nice girl like you. Isn’t it incredible that the two of you have known each other for so long?”
“We have?”
“Oh, yes, don’t you remember? You came into the office that morning and explained how Mr. Davidson is a friend of your family’s. You must have forgotten you’d told me that.”
“Oh. Oh, yes,” Bailey mumbled, embarrassed by the silly lie. “Well, if you’d give him the message, I’d be most grateful.”
“I’ll let Mr. Davidson know,” Roseanne said. She hesitated, as though she wanted to add something else and wasn’t sure she should. Then, decision apparently made, the words rushed out. “As I said before, I’ve been with Mr. Davidson for several years and I think you should know that to the best of my knowledge, this is the first time he’s ever sent a woman roses.”
* * *
For the rest of the afternoon, Bailey was walking on air. At five o’clock, she raced into the department store closest to her office, carrying one long-stemmed rose. Within minutes she found a lovely purple-and-gold silk dress. Expensive, but it looked wonderful. Then she hurried to the shoe department and bought a pair of pumps. In accessories, she chose earrings and a matching gold necklace.
From the department store she raced to the subway, clutching her purchases and the single red rose. She’d spent a fortune but didn’t bother to calculate how many “easy monthly installments” it would take to pay everything off. Looking nice for Parker was worth the cost. No man had ever sent her roses, and every time she thought about it, her heart positively melted. It was such a romantic thing to do. And to think he’d conferred with Roseanne Snyder.
By six-thirty she was almost ready. She needed to brush her hair and freshen her makeup, but that wouldn’t take long. She stood in front of the mirror in a model’s pose, one hand on her hip, one shoulder thrust forward, studying the overall effect, when there was a knock at the door.
Oh, no! Parker was early. Much too early. It was either shout at him from this side of the door to come back later, or make the best of it. Running her fingers through her hair, she shook her head for the breezy effect and opted to make the best of it.
“Are you ready?” Jo Ann asked, walking inside, her book bag in one hand and her purse in the other. She gaped openly at Bailey’s appearance. “Nice,” she said, nodding, “but you might be a touch overdressed for the critique group.”
“Oh, no, I forgot to call you.” How could she have let it slip her mind?
“Call me?”
Bailey felt guilty—an emotion she was becoming increasingly familiar with—for not remembering tonight’s arrangement. It was because of Parker. He’d occupied her thoughts from the moment he’d first kissed her.
There had been no kiss last night. The desire—no, more than desire, the need—for his kiss, his touch had flared into urgent life. Since the breakup with Tom she’d felt frozen, her emotions lying dormant. But under the warmth of Parker’s humor and generosity, she thawed a little more each time she saw him.
“Someone sent you a red rose,” Jo Ann said matter-of-factly. She walked farther into the room, lifting the flower to her nose and sniffing appreciatively. “Parker?”
Bailey nodded. “There were a dozen waiting for me when I got back to the office.”
Jo Ann’s smile was annoyingly smug.
“He stopped by while I was at lunch—we’d missed each other...” Bailey mumbled in explanation.
Jo Ann circled her, openly admiring the dress. “He’s taking you to dinner?” Her gaze fell to the purple suede pumps that perfectly matched the dress.
“Dinner? What gives you that idea?”
“The dress is new.”
“This old thing?” Bailey gave a nervous giggle.
Jo Ann tugged at the price tag dangling from Bailey’s sleeve and pulled it free.
“Very funny!” Bailey groaned. She glanced at her watch, hoping Jo Ann would take the hint.
Jo Ann was obviously pleased about Parker’s reappearance. “So, you’re willing to let bygones be bygones?” she asked in a bracing tone.
“Jo Ann, he’s due here any minute.”
Her friend disregarded her pleas. “You’re really falling for this guy, aren’t you?”
If it was any more obvious, Bailey thought, she’d be wearing a sandwich board and parading in front of his office building. “Yes.”
“Big time?”
“Big time,” Bailey admitted.
“How do you feel about that?”
Bailey was sorely tempted to throw up her arms in abject frustration. “How do you think it makes me feel? I’ve been jilted twice. I’m scared to death. Now, isn’t it time you left?” She coaxed Jo Ann toward the door, but when her friend ignored that broad hint, Bailey gripped her elbow. “Sorry you had to leave so soon, but I’ll give your regards to Parker.”
“All right, all right,” Jo Ann said, sighing, “I can take a hint when I hear one.”
Bailey doubted it. “Tell the others that...something came up, but I’ll be there next time for sure.” Her hands were at the small of Jo Ann’s back, urging her forward. “Goodbye, Jo Ann.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” her friend said from the other side of the threshold. Suddenly earnest, she turned to face Bailey. “Promise me you’ll have a good time.”
“I’m sure we will.” If she could finish getting ready before Parker arrived. If she could subdue her nerves. If...
Once Jo Ann was gone, Bailey slammed the door and rushed back to her bathroom. She was dabbing cologne on her wrists when
there was a second knock. Inhaling a calming breath, Bailey opened the door, half expecting to find Jo Ann on the other side, ready with more advice.
“Parker,” she whispered unsteadily, as though he was the last person she expected to see.
He frowned. “I did get the message correctly, didn’t I? You were expecting me?”
“Oh, yes, of course. Come inside, please.”
“Good.” His face relaxed.
He stepped into the room, but his eyes never left hers. “I hope I’m not too early.”
“Oh, no.” She twisted her hands, staring down at her shoes like a shy schoolgirl.
“You got the roses?”
“Oh, yes,” she said breathlessly, glancing at the one she’d brought home from her office. “They’re beautiful. I left the others on my desk at work. It was so sweet of you.”
“It was the only way I could think to apologize. I didn’t know if a hero did that sort of thing or not.”
“He...does.”
“So once again, I stayed in character.”
“Yes. Very much so.”
“Good.” His mouth slanted charmingly with the slight smile he gave her. “I realize this dinner is short notice.”
“I didn’t mind changing my plans,” she told him. The critique group was important, but everyone missed occasionally.
“I suppose I should explain we’ll be eating at my parents’ home. Do you mind?”
His parents? Bailey’s stomach tightened instantly. “I’d enjoy meeting your family,” she answered, doing her best to reassure him. She managed a fleeting smile.
“Mom and Dad are anxious to meet you.”
“They are?” Bailey would have preferred not to know that. The fact that Parker had even mentioned her to his family came as a surprise.
“So, how was your day?” he asked, walking casually over to the window.
Bailey lowered her gaze. “The morning was difficult, but the afternoon...the afternoon was wonderful.”
“I behaved like a jealous fool last night, didn’t I?” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “The minute I saw you in that other man’s arms, I wanted to get you away from him. I’m not proud of how I acted.” He shoved his fingers through his hair, revealing more than a little agitation. “As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, I’m not much of a dancer. When that throwback from the seventies asked you to dance with him, I had no objections. If you want the truth, I was relieved. I guess men are supposed to be able to acquit themselves on the dance floor, but I’ve got two left feet. No doubt I’ve blown this whole hero business, but quite honestly that’s the least of my worries. I know it matters to you, but I can’t change who I am.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
He nodded. “The worst part of the whole evening was the way I cheated myself out of what I was looking forward to the most.”
“Which was?”
“Kissing you again.”
“Oh, Parker...”
He was going to kiss her. She realized that at about the same time she knew she’d cry with disappointment if he didn’t. Bailey wasn’t sure who reached out first. What she instantly recognized was the perfect harmony between them, how comfortable she felt in his arms—as though they belonged together.
His mouth found hers with unerring ease. A moan of welcome and release spilled from her throat as she began to tremble. An awakening, slow and sure, unfolded within her like the petals of a hothouse rose.
That sensation was followed by confusion. She pulled away from Parker and buried her face in his strong neck. The trembling became stronger, more pronounced.
“I frighten you?”
If only he knew. “Not in the way you think,” she said slowly. “It’s been so long since a man’s held me like this. I tried to convince myself I didn’t want to feel this way ever again. I didn’t entirely succeed.”
“Are you saying you wanted me to kiss you?”
“Yes.” His finger under her chin raised her eyes to his. Bailey thought they would have gone on gazing at each other forever if Max hadn’t chosen that moment to walk across the back of the sofa, protesting loudly. This was his territory and he didn’t take kindly to invasions.
“We’d better leave,” Parker said reluctantly.
“Oh, sure...” Bailey said. She was nervous about meeting Parker’s family. More nervous than she cared to admit. The last set of parents she’d been introduced to had been Tom’s. She’d met them a few days before they’d announced their engagement. As she recalled, the circumstances were somewhat similar. Tom had unexpectedly declared that it was time to meet his family. That was when Bailey had realized how serious their relationship had grown. Tom’s family was very nice, but Bailey had felt all too aware of being judged and, she’d always suspected, found wanting.
Bailey doubted she said more than two words as Parker drove out to Daley City. His family’s home was an elegant two-story white stone house with a huge front garden.
“Here we are,” Parker said needlessly, placing his hand on her shoulder when he’d helped her out of the car.
“Did you design it?”
“No, but I love this house. It gave birth to a good many of my ideas.”
The front door opened and an older couple stepped outside to greet them. Parker’s mother was tall and regal, her white hair beautifully waved. His father’s full head of hair was a distinguished shade of gray. He stood only an inch or so taller than his wife.
“Mom, Dad, this is Bailey York.” Parker introduced her, his arm around her waist. “Bailey, Yvonne and Bradley Davidson, my parents.”
“Welcome, Bailey,” Bradley Davidson said with a warm smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Yvonne said, walking forward. Her eyes briefly connected with Parker’s before she added, “at last.”
“Come inside,” Parker’s father urged, leading the way. He stood at the door and waited for them all to walk into the large formal entry. The floor was made of black-and-white squares of polished marble, and there was a long circular stairway on the left.
“How about something to drink?” Bradley suggested. “Scotch? A mixed drink? Wine?” Bailey and Parker’s mother both chose white wine, Parker and his father, Scotch.
“I’ll help you, Dad,” Parker offered, leaving the two women alone.
Yvonne took Bailey into the living room, which was strikingly decorated in white leather and brilliant red.
Bailey sat on the leather couch. “Your home is lovely.”
“Thank you,” Yvonne murmured. A smile trembled at the edges of her mouth, and Bailey wondered what she found so amusing. Perhaps there was a huge run in her panty hose she knew nothing about, or another price tag dangling from her dress.
“Forgive me,” the older woman said. “Roseanne Snyder and I are dear friends, and she mentioned your name to me several weeks back.”
Bailey experienced a moment of panic as she recalled telling Parker’s receptionist that she was an old family friend. “I...guess you’re wondering why I claimed to know Parker.”
“No, although it did give me a moment’s pause. I couldn’t recall knowing any Yorks.”
“You probably don’t.” Bailey folded her hands in her lap, uncertain what to say next.
“Roseanne’s right. You really are a charming young lady.”
“Thank you.”
“I was beginning to wonder if Parker was ever going to fall in love again. He was so terribly hurt by Maria, and he was so young at the time. He took it very hard....” She hesitated, then spoke briskly. “But I suppose that’s neither here nor there.”
Bailey decided to ignore the implication that Parker had fallen in love with her. Right now there were other concerns to face. “Did Parker tell you how we met?” She said a silent prayer that he’d casually mentioned something about the two
of them bumping into each other on the subway.
“Of course I did,” Parker answered for his mother, as he walked into the room. He sat on the arm of the sofa and draped his arm around Bailey’s shoulders. His laughing eyes held hers. “I did mention Bailey’s a budding romance writer, didn’t I, Mom?”
“Yes, you did,” his mother answered. “I hope you told her I’m an avid reader.”
“No, I hadn’t gotten around to that.”
Bailey shifted uncomfortably in her chair. No wonder Yvonne Davidson had trouble disguising her amusement if Parker had blabbed about the way she’d followed him off the subway.
Parker’s father entered the room carrying a tray of drinks, which he promptly dispensed.
Then he joined his wife, and for some time, the foursome chatted amicably.
“I’ll just go and check on the roast,” Yvonne said eventually.
“Can I help, dear?”
“Go ahead, Dad,” Parker said, smiling. “I’ll entertain Bailey with old family photos.”
“Parker,” Bailey said once his parents were out of earshot. “How could you?”
“How could I what?”
“Tell your mother how we met? She must think I’m crazy!”
Instead of revealing any concern, Parker grinned widely. “Honesty is the best policy.”
“In principle I agree, but our meeting was a bit...unconventional.”
“True, but I have to admit that being described as classic hero material was flattering to my ego.”
“I take everything back,” she muttered, crossing her legs.
Parker chuckled and was about to say something else when his father came into the room carrying a bottle of champagne.
“Champagne, Dad?” Parker asked when his father held out the bottle for Parker to examine. “This is good stuff.”
“You’re darn right,” Bradley Davidson said. “It isn’t every day our son announces he’s found the woman he wants to marry.”
Ten
Bailey’s gaze flew to Parker’s in shocked disbelief. She found herself standing, but couldn’t remember rising from the chair. The air in the room seemed too thin and she had difficulty catching her breath.
Looking for a Hero Page 30