This time her smile didn’t hurt so much. “Where are we going tomorrow?”
“I thought we’d rent a car and drive west. See what we can find hidden on the back roads and highways.”
She liked that idea.
“What are you going to do about Wyatt?” he asked.
“Give him what he asked for—demanded—space wise. If he wants to go back to being a grumpy old bachelor, fine with me.” It wasn’t. But her head wasn’t on straight to examine alternatives. “And I’m calling Landry.”
“Nick is going to be furious.”
Not what she wanted to hear, but a fair point. She was fifty-fifty, when it came to pushing away or keeping the men in her life. Why not add her brother to the list and tip the scales? “I should probably warn him.”
“Do you want me to stick around, as moral support, or do you want your privacy?”
She wanted the support, but she was concerned that, if things broke down into shouting with Nick, Parker would step in on her behalf. She liked the thought, but this was her battle to fight. “Only one of us needs to be pissed off. Do you want to go get some filming in?”
“Sure. It hardly seems important, but I should.”
Gratitude and love swelled inside. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “I won’t make you regret sticking with me.”
“I know. I trust you.” He squeezed her tight, before letting her go. “I’ll get out of your way. Good luck with Nick.”
Fiona waited while Parker tugged on a baseball cap, meant to hide his face from the casual person looking for him, and grabbed his gear. She fidgeted with her phone until he was gone.
It took her several minutes to gather her courage, before she dialed her brother.
The moment he answered, she blurted out, “We need to talk.”
So much for easing into this.
“All right... Are you okay?” Nick asked.
“No. I’m fine in the ways you’re probably thinking, but... you’re going to be furious. I ask that you hold the shouting until I finish.”
“That sounds bad. This is about Wyatt?”
“Yes.” Fiona told him everything except the intimate details, including things they’d already covered. She didn’t want to leave out any important notes. She dove into how she and Parker met Wyatt. His offer to act as a tour guide for Parker, before they had any idea who he worked for. Their giving him a second chance, after they did know. That she thought she might be in love with two men, despite it being a bad idea.
She expected a reaction at some point. A snort or something. Even the love revelation didn’t draw a squeak from Nick.
Fantastic. He’d crossed into too-furious-to-speak territory.
“Is there more?” he asked.
“Isn’t that enough?”
His barking laugh made her cringe. “Why are you telling me all of this? Did I do something to piss you off, and I didn’t realize it?”
“Because Wyatt isn’t the bomber.” Not quite the right answer, but she needed a new wave of strength.
“And Ms. Passion wouldn’t have anything to pin on you if you weren’t following this asshole around.”
Fiona’s emotions were too raw for her to ignore the surge of rage. “I went where the jobs took me. Are you going to tell me next that it’s my fault Tim did what he did?’
“No. I’m—” His sigh hurt her eardrums. “This isn’t about the sex. It’s not about your personal life. I’ve got opinions about what you and Parker are doing, but if you want to fuck up your relationship, feel free—”
“But that’s not what this is about.” She let the sarcasm drip from her voice.
“It’s not. It’s about what it does to us. You fucked a client. Before? You didn’t know. Afterward? What the fuck were you doing?”
“I’m sorry it came to this.” She couldn’t apologize for the rest of it. “But he’s not guilty, and regardless of what you think about Wyatt and me—even if you’re such an asshole you don’t care what happens to an innocent man—if he’s in jail, they’re not looking for the real bomber.”
“If you destroy the company we’ve built, because you wanted to fuck around...”
Fiona didn’t know what Nick could threaten her with that was worse than the current circumstance. “Then what?”
“I don’t know. I trust you, but I don’t understand this. Any of what you were thinking. This man lied to you. He tried to break you. He fucked you over in more ways than one.”
Each word hammered another nail of reality in. What had she been thinking? “None of that means he deserves to go to jail.”
“I hate to be the one to say this—or rather, I’m surprised no one else has—but after you found out who he was, you knew what you were walking into.”
“I really didn’t.” Because she’d pretended she could extract her heart from this mess. That all she wanted was another tumble or two, to get him out of her system. She should have seen her obsession. Why had she been so blind?
Another sigh, but this one quieter. It sank into her soul. “Call a lawyer of your own before you do this,” Nick said. “I’ll stand by you publicly, but I don’t know if I can forgive you if you destroy what we built.”
“I understand.”
As she hung up, the conversation bounced in her head, mingling with Parker’s and Wyatt’s voices. It turned out Nick did tip the scales. He was right. When she set out to do this with Parker, the one hesitation she had was that acting irresponsibly—impulsively—would hurt her and Nick’s company.
Instead of keeping that in mind, she let lust drive her. That hot, intense sensation she felt whenever Wyatt was around. Worse, she’d convinced herself it meant more than that.
Maybe it could have become real, maybe not, but it wasn’t now. She never should have let something so fleeting spill out into the rest of her life.
What have I done?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
PARKER WASN’T TALKING to the camera as he walked. He’d be pressed to meet the livestreaming portion of his requirements for the week, but the frame of mind he was in, he’d make a lousy tour guide.
He was barely aware of what he was filming. The conversation—fight?—with Wyatt looped in his head. He knew what was going on, because he’d do the same thing in Wyatt’s place. He’d try like hell to not take anyone down with him.
Wyatt may want them to believe he was more selfish than that, but Parker didn’t buy it.
Why not? What did Wyatt do to raise himself above the sabotaging asshole they originally met?
It wasn’t any one thing. It was the culmination of his behavior.
Not that it mattered. That chapter of Parker and Fiona’s life was closed. They had a solid relationship, and this would hurt her for a while, but it wouldn’t pull them apart.
He tried to focus on filming. The city held so much beauty and vibrancy, it was easy to capture and hard to contain.
His phone rang. He paused the camera and stepped aside, to answer the call from Chloe. “This is Parker.” He wouldn’t be rude, but he wasn’t feeling the friendliness either.
“This is Chloe with Rinslet Media. Do you have a few minutes?” Her cool tone matched his.
“Sure.”
“We’re prepping our next competition round, but no surprises this time. Not for the content creators. We need to do some damage control around the incident—”
“That’s really what you’re calling it?” Parker couldn’t hide his irritation.
Chloe’s silence was deafening.
She finally spoke. “That’s what we’re calling it. And while we’re on the subject of Ms. Passion, if you ever make demands of me again—”
“What?” Parker’s patience was thinner than he realized. “You had the power and contacts to do what needed to be done. I don’t have any regrets.”
“I don’t have to keep you in this contest.” Chloe’s frustration pushed aside her professionalism.
“You co
uld eject me, if I’m that big a problem.” Parker expected a sick feeling at the words. He should be praying she wouldn’t call his bluff. But was he actually bluffing?
She tsked a couple of times. “I understand why you did what you did when the situation came up. I’m asking for professional courtesy right now.”
That was fair. “Competition round?”
“What you did with Jeremy—you on camera, his performance, hitting both your subscribers—was a big hit. What are the odds you’ll be in Chicago any time soon?”
Parker didn’t know what one had to do with the other. “I haven’t picked my next destination.” Let’s drive west wasn’t much of a plan. Chloe’s words clicked together. “You have the chefs in Chicago. Julie and the TV guy?”
“Dante. That’s them. Any interest in filming a cooking show?”
“Could be fun.” As long as they weren’t making hand-crafted candy.
“I’m glad you think that.” A hint of amusement leaked into her voice. “This will be a two-part act. You stream their show—which they rarely do live—to yours and their channel. After, they have a friend who will show you around the city. You keep filming. As in, you put in the hour for them and don’t turn off the camera for the next three after that.”
A three-hour tour. The Gilligan’s Island theme song bounced in his thoughts, both taunting him and making him smile. “That’s a long show.”
“I’ve seen you when you’re in the groove. You’ll rock this. When can you be there?”
“Two or three days.”
“Great.” She sounded sincere. “We’re planning this for a week-ish from now. I’ll send you the final times before the public announcement, in case you want to be someplace else until that day.”
Getting out of town would be good. Taking Fiona away from all of this. Parker didn’t even care about the change of scenery for himself this time; she needed a break. “Sounds like a plan. Anything else?”
“Yeah...” Chloe dragged out the word.
He waited for her to finish the thought. And waited. “Which is?”
“Regarding Ms. Passion. Any idea why she’d do this to Fiona? Why she’d risk her channel, to say those things?”
Insanity didn’t know reason? “I wanted to ask you the same question.”
“I wish I knew. I met her the same way I interviewed all of you, before this started. She’s not unhinged. Or she is, and I missed it. Or she jumped off the deep end since. But there’s no hint of this at all in her work. She’s been doing the sex-toy reviews for years and knows exactly where that line is between obscene and not, to keep her channel from being tagged as Adult. I can’t fathom why she’d destroy all of that, for no reason.”
“It’s not as though she was going to get away with it.” Parker had gone over similar questions and not reached a conclusion. But he didn’t know the woman. An online persona was easy to use as a mask. “She had to know the least you’d to do her was kick her out.” And in this case, YouTube had deleted her account.
“So no one has an answer.”
“Ms. Passion does. Maybe someday she’ll share it.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “This is stressful for everyone. I get it. I’m sorry for what you’re dealing with.”
Chloe’s laugh was dry. “I’ve dealt with worse. Google it.”
Parker wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“But I’ll give you this much,” Chloe said. “You’ve helped uncover more holes in our concept in the last couple of months than we expected to find the entire first year. I should be thanking you.”
It was a shitty thing to be known for. “Don’t mention it. Please.”
“Fair enough. Stay safe and enjoy Chicago.”
“Thanks.” Parker disconnected.
This was what he and Fiona needed. The road trip he suggested. A couple of days off. A new place.
He couldn’t ignore the gnawing inside that insisted this wasn’t the easy escape he hoped for. Worse, his looming dread didn’t have to do with Fiona’s attraction to Wyatt. It was tied to something he hadn’t seen yet, and the last thing he was going to do was challenge the universe by asking, What now?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
FIONA WATCHED PARKER’S competition round from the anonymity of a hotel room on the other side of downtown Chicago. She’d rather be with him, but neither one of them relished the idea of her trying to stay out of the camera’s way for his city tour.
She’d take this a hundred times over her life a week ago—the mess that culminated with her telling Landry that she was Wyatt’s alibi.
Landry asked her in every way imaginable why she’d kept the information to herself for so long.
Her answer was the same each time—she didn’t believe the information was any more relevant than giving him details about her sex life, but when she realized why they were asking, she was happy to make sure Wyatt was clear.
Landry didn’t look like he believed her, but her lawyer cut the conversation short when it got repetitive, and Fiona walked away.
On her laptop screen, Parker wrapped things up in the kitchen. He kept up the chatter with Julie and Dante, while the pair cleaned up. The couple was adorable on camera. They radiated chemistry, and each touch—no matter how small—came with a smile. Fiona hoped to meet them when the cameras weren’t on.
The drive up here had been nice. The scenery was stunning. There were so many trees, some shifting toward fall colors, while others were still green. Chicago was amazing, the skyline rising up in architectural spikes against a flat horizon.
Parker wasn’t on screen much, but she could tell from his voice that he was having fun.
She flopped back on the hotel bed and listened for a while. To Parker chatting. To Christopher joining the conversation. To the train ride further into the city.
It wasn’t as much fun as seeing the action. If she couldn’t be there with them, at least she could watch. She sat up again and focused on the screen.
Fiona only had to watch for a few minutes, to see that Christopher was as close to Julie and Dante as they were with each other. The three of them made a cute triad. Fiona couldn’t imagine Parker and Wyatt swapping the type of subtle but intimate touches the men did on screen.
She shouldn’t be imagining Wyatt at all. He’d made his decision, and she needed to get him out of her head. Doing so would help with the pit that formed in her stomach every time she thought his name.
Trying to convince herself last time that he was gone didn’t work so well, and they weren’t this close. Why did she think she could forget him this time? What were the odds he’d take her call? Could she go through that kind of heartache again?
No. She had more respect for herself than that, and she loved Parker too much, to make him put up with it.
If Wyatt wanted in—was willing to admit he felt something more than I need to get off—the three of them could make things work.
He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested. That was that.
Fiona tried to lose herself in the guided tour of Chicago. Christopher was good at what he did. He pointed out several places Parker could check out later. Everyone was laughing and having fun.
A pounding on the hotel door made Fiona’s heart leap into her throat.
“Fiona Walters? FBI.” The booming voice carried into the room.
Acid surged up her esophagus. She swallowed it down. Any other thought evaporated. She walked on shaky legs to the door and peered through the peephole. “Show me your badge.”
There were four men in the hallway, stretched in a weird fish-eye view. The one nearest her held up a badge.
That didn’t help. She couldn’t identify it, even without the distortion.
The hotel desk clerk stepped forward. She did recognize him. “These men are who they say they are. I’ll vouch for them,” he said.
That didn’t calm her hammering heart. She opened the door. “Is something wrong?” It might be a dim question, but she didn’t know what else to as
k.
“I’m Agent Spike. I’m here to take you into custody.”
“Why?” Her pulse pounded in her ears so loudly, she was surprised she heard him. “I want a lawyer.”
“It’s protective custody.” Agent Spike’s voice softened, and so did his expression.
“Why?” she asked again.
“There’s been another bombing.”
Oh fuck. She was going to be sick. “Where?”
“A few blocks away. The package exploded in the night drop box.”
Jesus. Fiona’s world tilted and spun, until she swore she was going to pass out.
THE ONLY THING PARKER would change about tonight would be not having Fiona here. And maybe the tour guide. Christopher was nice enough, but he wasn’t Wyatt.
Parker’s phone rang with the familiar tune he’d assigned to Fiona. “Hold on,” he said. “I wouldn’t take this, but she wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
“No worries.” Dante came to a stop a few feet away. Julie and Christopher paused too.
Parker kept his camera arm extended, focused on them. “Keep talking. I’m still rolling.” He pressed his phone to his ear. “What’s up?” He was quiet. The camera mic should filter him out as background noise.
“There was another bomb.” Fiona sounded on the verge of panic. “The FBI have me in protective custody. Call Nick, please, and meet me at the police station.”
“Whoa.” He wished he’d heard her wrong. “Red, slow down. Tell me more.”
“I’m still finding out for myself. I need you here. Please?” Her terror bled across the line.
“Okay. I’ll be there. Give me an address.”
She did, and he tapped it into his phone, then read it back to her twice, to make sure he had it right. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can.” He hung up.
“Is everything all right?” Julie watched him with concern.
“No. It’s really not.” He shoved the camera at Christopher. “I’ll pick this up from you later. I need to go.” Parker didn’t care that they were live or that he’d just handed a thousand-dollar piece of equipment to a near stranger. Fiona was the only thing that mattered. “Can you tell me the fastest way to get to this address?” He showed Christopher the phone, off screen.
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