Lilly never thought of herself as the type of female who would deliberately try to snag another woman’s man. She despised women who justified their relationships with attached or married men by making asinine statements like it was God’s will or he really wasn’t her man or he would not have left his wife or girlfriend.
No, if Simon wanted her, he would have to make the first move. Although she hated to admit it, chasing after Simon would be unfair to that psycho bitch he had hooked up with. But still, Millie’s tears would not be on her shoulders but his. Lilly never wanted to be that kind woman.
The uncertainty was killing her. There was a war brewing in her mind, a battle of love, want, and need versus logic and common sense. The depth of her feelings for Simon frightened her.
The contradictory emotions made her shudder.
Chapter Eleven
Several hours later, Lilly was still in limbo. She walked over to her sound system and pulled out her favorite music disc. Whenever she allowed herself the extravagance of thinking of Simon and being melancholy, she listened to the same tune and drank that same brand of wine. She put Annie Lennox’s Diva compact disc into the slot, pushed play, and then adjusted the volume with the remote. The lighting in the room was perfect for her mood.
Dark.
Lilly crossed to the sliding glass doors that led to her patio and the bottle of wine she had been nursing before she made the mistake of calling Teresa. She poured the chardonnay into her wine glass, filling it to the brim. Her intentions were to get drunk, stay drunk, and forget about Simon and the decision she knew was coming. Living in limbo was not an option. Tilting her head upward to the dark sky above, she sent out a prayer for a sign.
“Just one little sign,” she murmured. “Just show me what is in mind, Lord.”
Lilly lowered her head, brought the glass to her pursed lips, and sipped leisurely. Her eyes scanned the semi-dark parking section below. Nothing moved except the branches on the trees, not a sound was heard apart from the traffic on the street mixed with the sound of Annie’s voice.
Not one damn sign.
Was it really over?
She leaned against the railing and again spoke to the man above.
“Come on…help me out here. Show or tell me something…please.”
The hum of a vehicle drew her attention from the stars to the area below. The car veered into the one available spot directly beside the security lamppost. Her heartbeat accelerated as the driver turned off the little silver BMW’s headlights. There was a lone figure in the car. Lilly set her glass down and leaned forward, all the while clutching both the stereo’s remote control with one hand and the iron railing with the other. The throaty, sexy voice of Annie Lennox singing the jazzy standard “Cold” echoed all around her.
Don't I exist for you,
don't I still live for you?
Cold, cold, cold…
Lilly closed her eyes. “Oh Lord…” she whispered. Circles of smoke floated through the cracked window of the car below. The driver’s door opened and Lilly’s breath caught. Maybe he was here to visit the lady who lived in the building directly across from hers. The woman was always entertaining. If she was more like Miss Thang across the street; she wouldn’t think twice about going to Simon, she wouldn’t think twice about the past. Her instinct told her differently. Annie’s voice, as she belted out the second refrain, seemed louder suddenly, drowning all other sounds around Lilly.
An eerie, prickly feeling crept up her neck. The car’s occupant stepped out. He leaned against the BMW and scanned her building, resting his gaze deliberately on her apartment. Her breath caught, and for a moment she thought he was staring at her.
“Simon.” Lilly gasped.
Although his face was in the shadows from the dimly lit streetlight, there was something familiar about him. Then he flicked his cigarette onto the pavement, pushed away from the BMW and walked toward her unit, still staring up at her.
He was looking at her.
Annie’s voice melodically sang Lilly’s very thoughts:
Oh, slip me inside your heart
Don't I belong to you baby?
Lilly expelled a deep breath, and although she wanted to look away, she couldn’t. The man jammed his hands in his pockets and she could have sworn he smiled. Maybe it was her imagination, but she knew exactly what the gentleman’s face looked like, the slight rise of his mouth, the squint of his eyes that followed. She waited for the all too familiar gesture that would follow.
The wine glass slipped from Lilly’s hold. She placed her hand over her heart and waited for the man to run his fingers through his hair. It was an idiosyncrasy that was pure Simon Lane. A deep moan escaped her lips as she focused on the jerky movement of his fingers atop his head.
He was coming to her. She wanted to scream. Even now, she had a sliver of doubt. Not about why he was here. By the determination in his stride, Lilly had no doubts that he—at last—was coming for her. She had no doubts about what would happen if she let him in. Lilly’s misgivings and hesitation were about her own ability to give him what he needed—a reason to stay, and more importantly, every ounce of her being.
Lilly crept back into her living room and sat down on the sofa. She crossed her legs and placed her clasped hands in her lap. She rocked back and forth, knowing any second he would be knocking on her door. He must have gotten her address from Ethan. Or had he rifled through Millicent’s papers to locate her? It didn’t matter, soon he would be here.
What to do?
She felt light headed. Things were moving too fast. She thought she had more time to decide, but time had run out. Simon was here. She rubbed her forehead. Damn it, why did there have to be a Millicent? Why did he wait so long to come to her? And why did she still have doubts that she could be what he wanted and needed?
The sounding of the doorbell seemed extremely loud. She couldn’t move. Beyond the door stood the man that completed her, but he was also the man who had hurt her most. He pressed the bell again, and she responded by lowering her head into her hands. Teresa’s words ran through her mind. Be sure, Lilly. Leave him alone, Lilly. Millicent’s words rattled around freely, daring her to take what Millicent knew was not hers, despite Lilly’s refusal to claim him.
She bit her lip when he began to bang on the door.
“Make up your mind, Lilly! Love him or let him go!” she whispered. Lilly covered her ears, drowning out the buzzer and the thumping on the door. She pressed reverse on the remote and made a bargain with God.
“I know I asked for one sign.” She closed her eyes. “But I need your help again.” Lilly pressed play on the remote control. She ignored the melody and concentrated on the words.
Chapter Twelve
“I was beginning to think you weren’t home.” Millicent smiled at the man who opened the door. “May I come in?”
Parker clamped his teeth together and nodded, stepping aside to let her enter. The last person he wanted to see was her.
She breezed past him, leaving in her wake the smell of wildflowers and orange blossoms. No other woman could get away with making those two contradictory scents sexy as hell, but the ice-cold blonde that glided into his foyer managed it like a pro. He understood again why his ex-wife hated her. If Parker were female, he would hate Millicent Rogers too. She was, after all, an enigma. What you saw, sensed, and smelled was not at all what you got.
Simon didn’t deserve her. No one did, himself included. From the very beginning, her feelings for him were like a water faucet, running from cold to hot. They had weathered the briefest of short-lived affairs. For Parker, she was the one. Unfortunately for him, she didn’t feel the same way. He would have cut off his left arm for her love.
Then, as was always the case, shit happened—lies, deceit, accusations, and no real ending. Still, he held out hope, but then along came Simon. Millicent made it abundantly clear she was not interested in going backwards. She had severed all attempts he had made to restore their relationship
the minute she took up with Simon. From the beginning, she had lied to him about the extent of her friendship with Simon. Her engagement was the final blow.
She had chosen—of all men—his closest friend.
“Is Simon here?” Her voice was low and sultry. Parker knew it was not intentional, but there it was. His dick stirred with the first word she spoke. Her utterance of the word ‘here’ conjured up dirty thoughts. Is Simon here? Parker repeated in his mind. No he fucking isn’t here, he thought, but I am.
For all the good it does me.
He clamped down on that train of thought. Simon was his friend and Millicent was a mistake from his past, albeit one he kept repeating whenever she knocked on his door late at night. But she was still a mistake.
Plus, she was Simon’s problem, now.
Despite his cock’s unwillingness to forget her, specifically the way the muscles of her tight, wet chamber squeezed around his dick at just the right moment, producing an orgasm that rendered him weak and wanting more, his good sense would have none of it.
Parker knew that for his well-being, he had to overrule the little brain on this one. No matter what, he would not let the little fellow take charge tonight. Unlike the scores of times in the past when Millicent would stop by unexpectedly, tonight he would not betray his friend again by letting his mini me free. I will not fuck Simon’s woman tonight.
“Hate to break it to you, Mills, but contrary to popular opinion, I am not Simon’s keeper.”
“I know that. I just thought —”
“Don’t you mean hoped? You just hoped that he was here, but we both have a pretty good idea where he’s at. Poor little Mills, did you lose your fiancé again? You have a very bad habit of misplacing them.” Parker chuckled as he walked pass her, slowing his steps when he was parallel to her frame. He looked into her eyes, inhaled deeply, and then shook his head.
“If it’s any consolation, I know how you feel. You routinely disappeared on me with no explanation. How does it feel to be on the end of a losing battle?” Parker winked at Millicent.
“You’re in your usual nasty mood. Is it just my being here, or is something else wrong?” For a minute he thought she might be sincere but quickly abandoned that thought. She would require a beating heart to care.
“Ah, ah, ah, sweetheart,” Parker jangled his finger. “Let’s not play any games. You couldn’t give less than a damn about me, so let’s not pretend. Your errant fiancé has taken a powder. It was only a matter of time. You should have known he would find his way back to Lilly.”
“I’m beginning to think I’m not wanted here.” She had the audacity to laugh after she spoke. “Should I leave?”
She made a slow production of removing her gloves. Funny, Parker thought, Simon’s women had one thing in common—gloves. Both Millicent and Lilly shared a propensity for fine linen or silk gloves that added to their retro style of Chanel dresses and three-inch pumps.
“Do you want me to go, Parker?” Her voice was so cool, and the challenge was quite obvious. She tossed her quarter-length black gloves on the hall table, appearing so collected and unmoved by the lowering of his eyelids to half-mast. She stood decked out in her Breakfast at Tiffany’s ensemble, sans the twelve-inch cigarette holder, reminiscent of an iceberg. Blood rushed to his mini me resulting in a decisive explosion in his lower region. Of course, she topped it off by licking her lips. He moaned. She rewarded his emotional slip by offering a slow, shy smile.
Bitch!
So much for controlling the little guy. It didn’t help that his heart was just as invested and loathed the prospect of not keeping her around, even if it were for just a little while. It grated Parker that he couldn’t bring himself to tell her to go, to just get the fuck out of his house and out of his life.
Bitch!
Instead, he placed his hands on his hips, made a one hundred and eighty degree turn, and walked into his living room, all the while praying that she would follow. Pussy whipped motherfucker, he thought.
“Would you like a drink to fortify you on your journey?” He motioned toward the bar in the corner of his loft. “If you’re truly looking for your wayward lover, you’ll need it for the shock you’ll experience when you find him. A little birdie told me there’s definitely trouble brewing in the Lane and Rogers household. The odds are stacked against you; Lilly’s way ahead by damn near twenty points.”
“Don’t count me out.” Her voice was flat but there was an unmistakable undertone to her words, one Parker couldn’t decipher and at the moment, gave less than a damn to try. Glaring contemptuously, he hoped to relay his thoughts.
Millicent shrugged off his statement and looked around the room.
“What?” he yelled, after a moment of standing idle while she scrutinized the place. “Is something out of order, or what?”
“No.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Everything is the same. You’re definitely the same. Still pathologically angry.”
“You expected I would be different?”
“No. Congeniality from you would definitely be asking too much.”
“You knocked on my door, remember. As a matter of fact, lately you’ve been knocking on my door a lot. You’re really something, you know that? Simon is a smart guy. For the life of me, I don’t understand why he has not realized who and what you are, or how he allowed himself to be sucked into your sham of a relationship. Whatever it is, I know he’s getting something more that great sex out of is.”
“My sex life with Simon is none of your damn business. You’ll believe what you want anyway.”
“Maybe I should wise him up. I don’t know what’s worse; his neutral treatment of you, or your betrayal of him.”
“Don’t you mean our betrayal?”
Bitch! What could he say? He was as guilty as she was.
She inched closer to him. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything to Simon. He can never know.”
“My promise was made during one of those heart-stopping triple orgasms that we shared.” Parker watched her flinch and step away from him. He bit back an apology and opted to bring the point home. “It was a weak moment when I wasn’t thinking clearly. You have that affect on me, even now.”
“Please —”
“Relax, Mills. I have as much, if not more, to lose if Simon ever found out. He deserves better than a best friend who would betray him the way I did. I can appease my guilt by saying you really aren’t his, and he certainly does not love you. That’s obvious, because I know him better than anyone. Hard to believe that for maybe a minute, I thought of you as mine. But that’s bullshit, and we both know it. You belong to yourself and that dysfunctional family of yours. If Lilly tells Simon to kiss her pretty little ass and sends him back home to you with his tail between his legs, his ego wouldn’t be able to handle the blow. You know, losing the love of his life and discovering his best friend fucked his fiancé. That is the only reason I’ll never tell him. You can go to hell. Mark my words; someday he’ll realize the kind of woman you are.”
“And what kind of woman am I, Parker?”
“The cheating and lying kind,” he spat. “But don’t sweat it, sweetheart, your secret is safe with me. In all likelihood, the point is moot. Lilly is Simon’s world. You need to prepare yourself for the inevitable. It may not happen today or tomorrow, hell, not even next month, but it will happen. Your engagement is inching toward doom. Simon’s little chickadee has come home to roost and no matter how hard he fights his need for her, eventually he will give in to it. I know. His need for Lilly is the same as mine was for you. Thus the reason whenever you knock on my door, we end up in one another’s arms.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“But still, you find yourself at my door.” He thought about the conversation he had on the plane with Simon. “Have you said anything to lead Simon to believe there is something between us?”
“Nothing, I swear. I’ve never told a soul about us.”
“Good, because there is no us. Not a
nymore.” He regretted his words immediately, but refused to voice the feeling aloud. For Parker, those days were done. She was no longer his problem or concern, but Simon’s. He’d been down that road and had no intention of traveling it again.
“I agree. So there’s no reason for Simon to be jealous. Is there?”
“None whatsoever,” Parker lied.
“Well, that’s one thing we can agree on.”
“Cut the crap, Mills. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Tell me Parker, the little birdie spreading tales about the Lane and Rogers household, does he or she by chance have a name?”
“Ethan called me. And of course Sean, who I might add, is livid at the prospects of Simon sniffing after Miss Lillian again.”
“Word travels fast.”
“I’d wager everyone in Chicago knows by now that she’s back. The two of you actually worked together for months, and neither of you realized who the other was—unbelievable and funny!” Parker laughed.
“I’m glad my pain is amusing to you.”
“Oh, come on, Mills, here’s your out, and Simon’s, too. End this…this farce the two of you have going. You don’t love Simon. I know that for a fact.”
“You’re right, I don’t love him, not like I —”
“Don’t say it, Mills. Don’t even think it.” He walked over to the bar, thankful that his back was to her. Parker didn’t want to hear her fake declaration of love for him. She was a liar and incapable of the emotion. Life was a bitch, and love was a curse. So why, he wondered, did he still want her?
“I need him. Simon loves me…in his own way.” Millicent made the declaration without fluttering; Parker laughed at the ludicrous statement. Simon loved Simon first and, of course, Miss Lilly Rouilard. He wondered why Mills didn’t see it. Or did she? What was the bond that held Simon and Mills together? Why would she marry a man that would never love her back?
Education of Simon Lane Page 10