Nights With Parker

by Tribue,Alice

  My blood feels like it’s boiling in my veins. As badly as I want to do exactly the opposite of what he’s just demanded, I don’t. I don’t because I think of my mom and what it would mean for her if I let my anger get the better of me. I look down at the plate of food that was placed in front of me, pick up my knife and fork, and eat my dinner just like I was told. Just like a good girl and I hate every minute of it.

  We finished dinner in silence, and even though I tried my best to act normally, I’m positive he could sense the hostility radiating off me. Regardless of my attitude, he was a perfect gentleman, treating me with nothing but respect throughout the remainder of dinner. The drive home was equally silent, though not as hostile, because I had enough time to calm myself down. This is probably because, by the time we got in the car, I realized that our time together would soon be coming to an end, at least for tonight. We pull up to the hotel, and I barely wait for the car to come to a complete stop before I’m unbuckling my seat belt and getting out. I watch as Oliver hands the keys to the valet and makes his way over to me. I’m all set to say good night to him when he grabs me by the hand and pulls me into the hotel.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going to my room.”

  “Why are you dragging me with you?”

  “You know why,” he says, pushing the call button for the elevator. Just my luck, the doors slide open immediately, and I’m pulled inside with no chance of escape.

  “Oliver, I thought we were just having dinner tonight? You know, getting to know each other?”

  “We did dinner, and we got to know each other. Now, we’re going to get to know each other,” he declares, putting just enough emphasis on the knowing part. I know exactly how much more he wants to get to know me.

  My natural inclination is to fight him to do whatever I have to do to get away from him, use whatever excuse I can muster to grant myself a stay of execution, but what would that buy me? A night … two, if I’m lucky? There’s really no point. I’ve made a deal with the devil, and at some point, I’m going to have to pay up. My entire body goes cold as I think of what’s going to happen and what I’ve agreed to do. I never imagined I’d ever be in a situation like this. It doesn’t matter, though; the agreement’s been made. Taking a deep breath, I do my best in the short amount of time I have to come to terms with what’s about to happen. When the elevator doors slide open, Oliver pulls me out and down the hall, only letting me go momentarily so that he can open the door to his room.

  Just like last time, he’s on me as soon as the door closes behind us. He grabs my face firmly in the palms of his hands, and I gasp when his lips crash against mine. I want to say it's too aggressive—his touch, his mouth—but the truth is that when his lips are on mine, it feels nothing short of spectacular. Even though my brain knows what he’s doing to me is wrong, my body betrays me in the worst way. It gives in, siding with the enemy like a traitor. Instinctively, my hands clutch the lapels of his suit jacket, an act that only ignites Oliver more. He releases my face, his hands landing on my hips, and with a shove, I’m moving backward. I go willingly because all I can think about is how good his kiss feels and how amazing he is at this.

  There’s a moment of astonishment when we hit the bed with a bounce, but he never breaks the kiss. He’s relentless. Maybe because he knows that I might bolt if he lets me up for air; that my brain might catch up with my body and I’ll run out of here just as I did the first time. What he doesn’t realize is that my mom’s job is too important for me to go back on our deal. This job is the only thing standing between us and home foreclosure. We’re always just a paycheck or two away from losing everything.

  His large hand lands on my leg, just below where the hem of my dress lies, and I start to tense as it travels north. I know exactly where he’s going, so I take a breath and force myself to relax. He gives my thigh a squeeze, and yet again, I note how good his touch feels. It’s too good, and an underlying sense of guilt accompanies it. It shouldn’t be this way; I should hate him for doing this to me. His touch shouldn’t make me want him, want more of him, yet it does.

  The sudden sound of a cell phone ringing cuts through the otherwise quiet room and causes me to jerk with a start. I have a combined sense of relief and disappointment as my mind and body battle it out.

  “Shit.” Oliver grunts, pushing off me. “Hold that thought,” he utters in my general direction while at the same time grabbing his cell phone. I lay there panting, trying to catch my breath while watching him with fascination as his expression goes from annoyed to downright furious. “What?” he answers curtly, and I’m grateful I’m not on the other end of the line. He listens for a moment, and yet again, I witness his face transform from angry to something else. Worry, maybe. Without any notice, he’s up and out of the bed in a flash.

  “All right. I’m on my way,” he says before disconnecting the call. He grabs the hotel phone and dials the front desk, asking whoever is on the other end to have his car brought around. Once he’s finished, he turns to me, and I can tell that look from before is definitely one of worry.

  “I have to go to the hotel. There was a fire in one of the guest rooms.”

  “Is everyone all right?”

  “Yes, but the police and fire department are there. I have to get over there.”

  “Okay,” I tell him scooching off the bed and straightening my dress. I forget about what my body was telling me it wanted and say a silent thank-you to God for the reprieve.

  “Come on,” he commands, reaching his hand out for mine. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  I do as he asks, giving him my hand and letting him escort me out of the room. We stand in silence waiting for the elevator, and I can tell that his body is tense. Part of me wants to help him, to offer to go with him to the hotel even if it’s only for moral support, but that’s not my place. I will never play that role in his life.

  “You don’t have to walk me to my car. It would take too long. I’m at a lot down the street.”

  He looks down at me, and the look of annoyance that I’m becoming so accustomed to has returned. “Why are you not parked in the hotel?”

  “Because the valet here is too expensive,” I return, pointing out the obvious. “I parked for half the price down the street.”

  He lets out an audible sigh as we get into the elevator.

  “Next time, park here, and I’ll cover the cost.”

  Leaning against the wall, I look up at him, ready to dispute his latest demand. “Oliver.”

  “Do as I say, Riley. I don’t need your shit right now.”

  Yet again, I bite my tongue because I know that his mind is preoccupied. He has the hotel to deal with, and I don’t need to add to that. My next thought is that I shouldn’t care what’s happening in his world because he’s thrown mine into upheaval without a second thought. He takes my hand as we walk through the lobby and out onto the street where, just as requested, his car is waiting for him. He lets me go and opens up the passenger side door.

  “Get in.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m driving you to your car.” Before I can protest, he lets out a tired sigh and continues. “I don’t have time to debate with you. Just get in.”

  I do as he asks, not wanting to drag this night out any longer than it needs to be. Not to mention, the idea of walking down the street in these heels is not at all appealing to me right now. It only takes a minute for him to drive me to the lot where my car is.

  “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 m
oment, it makes me feel safe, but I push that thought out of my head just as he peels away.

  CHAPTER SIX

  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.”