Nights With Parker

by Tribue,Alice

  A car is waiting at the curb when we exit the hotel. I wonder why he didn’t just drive his car to the airport, but I don’t ask. Maybe he just doesn’t want to have to worry about parking it for however long we’re gone. We get in the car, and immediately, the driver speeds off toward the highway. Oliver stares out the window, and I imagine his thoughts are a million miles away. Maybe I should leave him alone, but I want to wrangle his thoughts—the negativity, the worry—and make them go away, even if only for a short time.

  “How much do I owe you for the plane ticket?” I question because I have nothing else to say and because I really would like to pay him back for it. His attention transfers from the city passing by to me, but his eyes, which usually hold so much expression, look eerily blank.

  “Nothing, we’re flying private.” I don’t like the hollowness in his tone. I’d almost rather hear him arguing with me about anything at all.

  “You have a plane?” I question. The idea that he has enough money at his disposal to have a private plane isn’t lost on me. It does nothing to help the feeling of unworthiness that I already have around him. I’d never be able to live up to all that he is, all the things that he has.

  “The company has one, yes. But I’m not using it today. I called in a favor.”

  “Big favor,” I mutter, under my breath, but when his lips tip up in a semi-smile, I know he’s heard me. I watch him as he takes me in, maybe for the first time today.

  “Lovely outfit you’re wearing,” he comments dryly, and I glare at him in return.

  “It’s all I had. You know that.”

  He gives me a nod and then reaches for his cell phone. “I’ll have my assistant send you some things to the house.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I can stop and buy what I need when we get there.”

  “I’m not setting foot in a store with you, and I’m not leaving you alone in New York City with your sweet, doe-eyed face to get robbed, raped, or murdered.”

  For a second, I wonder if he’s serious about something happening to me but quickly realize that he’s just being a smartass … I think, anyway.

  “I can see why you love the city so much. It sounds wonderful.”

  My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but instead of rolling his eyes or giving me one of his more menacing looks, he actually smiles at me. That one smile makes me feel like I’ve just won the lottery because I know that getting to his mother is the only thing that matters to him right now. I know how upset and worried he is, and how helpless he feels. If anybody can relate to feeling helpless, I can. Watching my father die and not having the power to change it was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced.

  “If you’re scared, you don’t have to come with me,” he taunts with a grin.

  “I’m not scared,” I rebut, but I’m not so sure he believes me. I’m not so sure I believe myself. He turns his attention back to his phone and types out a message to whom I assume is his assistant. When he’s done, he focuses back on the view outside the window. I leave him alone to let him deal with whatever is happening in his head right now on his own. Hesitantly, I reach out and grab his hand. He doesn’t look at me or say anything; he just gives my hand a welcoming squeeze. I realize that the only thing that’s going to help him is to see that his mother’s okay for himself. All I can do now is be there for him as much as he’ll let me be and hope that it’s enough. Hope that when he walks away from me one day and returns to his life in New York permanently, he’ll think fondly of the girl who cared enough to follow him home. That for a time someone was there who would listen to him when his shoulders felt heavy with the weight of the world resting on them.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  OLIVER

  I woke up this morning still on a high from last night. The way Riley all but initiated sex between us was astounding, to say the least. I was under the impression that she still despised me. After our last encounter, I knew that I had made some leeway, but I guess I’d made more than I realized. The way that she responded to me touching her was magnificent. I had every intention of waking her up much the same way, but that was squashed by an unexpected phone call from Jacob.

  Phone calls from my brother are rarely good, but I hadn’t expected him to tell me that my mother had been admitted and then checked herself out of the hospital after an alleged mugging. A fucking mugging. Albeit, my father hasn’t laid a hand on my mother in a harmful way in years, but I think that’s only because his mistresses keep him plenty busy. Besides, the last time he tried, I pulled him off her and threw him into a nearby wall. Before that point, I was just as important to him as Jacob was; he was molding us both to take over Parker Hotels. That all changed the day that I finally stood up to him where my mother was concerned. He perceived my loyalty to her as disloyalty to him. Because of it, I became the outcast. I think Jacob went along with it because it meant that he wouldn’t have to share the reins of the company with me. I’m not sure if he ever knew exactly what really happened; in fact, I’m not so sure he ever knew that my father hit my mother at all. Jacob has always been single-minded and focused on whatever his goal was at the time. He was raised to be a winner and not much else matters. My father’s approval is way too important to him, which is why I never bothered to tell him about our parents’ tumultuous relationship. We’ve never seen eye to eye, but he’s not a bad person. He’s just oblivious. So oblivious that he actually believes our mother was mugged.

  My first instinct when Riley offered to come home with me was to shut her down. But she was adorably insistent, and I have to admit the thought of having her here did something to calm me. Not that she can do anything or solve anything, but just the idea of having someone stand with me felt nice. Having someone choose to stand with me when life is unsettled is new to me. The only person who’s ever stood by me is my mother, and that’s cost her a significant amount.

  “I’ve never seen so many people in my life.” I look over at Riley, who can’t seem to peel her eyes away from the movement of the city. I thought her stunned reaction to the private plane was something, but this, this is priceless.

  “If you look over there, you’ll see the Empire State Building,” I tell her, pointing at the building that towers over the city from just a few blocks away.

  “It’s so pretty. I’ve seen it in so many movies; it’s strange to be seeing it in person.”

  “There are a lot of beautiful sights to see here,” I tell her, leaning back in my seat, studying her, and thinking that none of those sights compare to her beauty. Thinking about how I wish this trip were for pleasure and not family drama. I’d love to take her to see all the sights—take her to Times Square, see a show on Broadway, or go to Central Park for a walk. I could be her tour guide the way she was mine.

  “How can you live here when it’s this busy all the time?” she questions wide-eyed.

  “My neighborhood is a little less crowded, a little trendier, and it’s easier to walk around in,” I tell her, referring to my penthouse apartment downtown. She nods and goes back to taking in the sights of the city. It’s clear that she would never fit in here, or maybe she could but she’d never want to. When we finally reach my block, the driver double-parks in front of my building, and I tell him not to bother opening the door. I get out quickly and extend my hand to Riley, helping her out and onto the sidewalk.

  “There’s still a ton of people out here.”

  “It’s still New York, so there’s always going to be people,” I tell her as she looks at the people walking by. Definitely fewer than we saw earlier, but still more than what she’s used to.

  “I suppose.”

  “I’m beginning to think you don’t like people,” I say, linking our fingers together.

  “I love people.” She looks up at me and smiles. “It’s the volume that takes some getting used to.”

  I chuckle at her response and give her hand a tug, making her move with me toward my building. I greet the doorman, who makes a point of welco
ming me home and letting me know that bags had been delivered earlier and placed in my sitting room. Bags that I’m sure are filled with the clothes and necessities I instructed my assistant to purchase for Riley. She looks around the lobby as best as she can, but I don’t give her any time to stop and take it in. I’m anxious to get upstairs and figure out my next move.

  “Nice building,” Riley comments as we step onto the elevator, and I punch in the code to get up to my floor.

  “Believe it or not, it was once a warehouse dating back to the eighteen hundreds.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” I confirm, giving her just about the only piece of information I know about this building. We step off the elevator and directly into the foyer of my apartment. I observe Riley as she takes in the space—the wood floors that run throughout the apartment, the two skylights that brighten it, and the three oversized windows that overlook Washington Square Park.

  “This place is beautiful, Oliver. It’s not where I imagined you’d live, though.”

  “No?” I make my way into the sitting room and drop my laptop onto a nearby chair. “What did you think I’d live in?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugs her shoulders. Her face lit with amusement. “An upscale bachelor pad.”

  I can’t help myself. I throw my head back and laugh at her adorable assessment.

  “And what does an upscale bachelor pad look like?”

  “Not this.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I tell her, with a smile on my face.

  “It’s not a disappointment.” She rewards me with a shy smile before dipping her head away and aiming her gaze out a nearby window. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  I spot the bags on the couch that my assistant had messengered over for Riley.

  “These are for you,” I call to her. I’m drawn in by the way her hair whips around as she turns in my direction. She eyes the bags as she takes a few steps in my direction. Her confused eyes land on me as she comes to a stop.

  “What is all that?”

  “Clothes, undergarments, toiletries, makeup. Things I thought you might need while you’re here.”

  “Okay, but there seems to be a lot of it.”

  “I’m not sure how long we’ll be here, Riley. It could be a day; it could be a week. I’d rather you have an excess of clothing than not enough.”

  I can see she’s getting ready to dig her heels in and argue with me, and I’m gearing up for what undoubtedly will be a battle when I hear the elevator doors slide open. Riley and I both turn our heads in that direction, only to find my brother, Jacob, strolling into my apartment as if he owned it.

  “I need to speak with you,” he delivers curtly, barely looking at Riley.

  “Remind me to have a word with my doorman about who he allows in my apartment freely.”

  “It seems you barely made it into the city before picking up a friend.” It takes a lot for me not to lose my patience with him at his assumption of Riley and who she is.

  “I suggest you speak only about things that you know, Jacob. Riley has accompanied me here from Savannah, and she’s a friend.”

  “Is that what we’re calling them these days?”

  “Careful,” I growl, taking a menacing step closer to my brother. He glares at me, almost willing me to take a shot at him. Riley steps in front of me before I can react at all. She stands perfectly straight and holds out a hand in his direction.

  “Hi, Jacob. I’m Riley.”

  In return, Jacob looks down at her hand then glances at me; he smiles before giving her his hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Riley,” he tells her, sounding apologetic. I almost believe he’s sincere. “I apologize for my comment. I was just a little surprised to see you here.”

  “It’s okay. Oliver was obviously upset to find out your mother had been in the hospital. I wanted to come with him in case he needed any help.”

  He looks at her, curiously, as if he’s seeing her, really seeing her, for the first time. Maybe realizing she’s different. That she means something, and he practically seems pleased.

  “That’s very kind of you,” he says, releasing her hand and taking a step back. “I can see why my brother is fond of you.”

  “Riley,” I call. She turns to me, and I stride toward her cutting the distance between us. I grab her hand as she tilts her head back to look up at me.

  “Take your bags and go settle in. The bedroom is the last doorway on the right.”

  She looks at me hesitantly, and I’m not sure if she doesn’t want to leave me alone with my brother right now or if she’s worried about her sleeping accommodations. Or more importantly, if she’ll be expected to share that room with me. She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off before she can say anything.

  “Please, baby. Jacob and I need to have a conversation.”

  Her features go soft, her face warms, and the way she looks at me makes me want to kick my brother out so I can explore exactly what that look means. She gives me a small nod then skirts around me. She gathers the bags and, without delay, heads down the hall. I look away only when the sound of Jacob’s voice grabs my attention.

  “You know that’s not the kind of girl you fuck around with, don’t you?”

  “I don’t need your advice. Please don’t act like you give a fuck about me or my intentions for Riley.”

  He juts his chin in the direction Riley just went. “She’s beautiful. If you aren’t interested in keeping her as more than just a friend, I might consider taking a shot.”

  “Over my dead body, though I’m sure your lovely wife would love to hear how interested you are in my girlfriend.”

  Yes. I used the word girlfriend. I’ll say just about anything to make sure that Jacob stays the fuck away from Riley. The worst part is that I actually like the sound of the words as they came out of my mouth. Jacob looks stunned; I never have a woman on my arm for more than a night, and I’ve certainly never claimed one as my girlfriend.

  “Maybe you’re not so stupid after all,” he says, turning and striding into my kitchen. He makes himself a little too comfortable, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as I watch on in aggravation. “As for my wife, I highly doubt she cares what I do as long as her credit cards have an endless limit.”

  I’ve never heard him talk about his wife like that. I was under the impression that he practically kisses the ground she walks on. I thought he was just as oblivious to her as he is about everything else in life.

  “Did you come here to complain about your marriage, or was there a reason that I might actually care about?”

  He takes a drink of his whiskey before placing the glass on the countertop. His eyes travel to the large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city, and he stares for a moment before finally focusing on me again and saying what’s on his mind. “I want to know what the fuck you were going on about this morning, telling me to keep Dad away from Mom.”

  “Jesus Christ, Jacob, if you don’t already know, then you’re even more fucked up than I thought you were.”

  He grips the edges of the countertop, his knuckles turning white, and I can tell that his control is slipping. This is hard for Jacob because he likes control, maybe even needs it.

  “Are you implying that he did something to her?”

  I fold my arms across my chest and shake my head at him. It astounds me how little my brother actually sees of the world around him, of the people in his life.

  “I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you.”

  “Why? Why would you think that?”

  “Again. I don’t think it. I’m telling you.”

  “You’re really starting to piss me off.”

  “You’ve been pissing me off for years. If you’d get your head out of your ass for just a minute, then maybe you’d actually see what’s right in front of you. He’d been hitting her for years before I finally jumped in and pulled the bastard off
her. That would be right around the time I stopped being a golden boy just like you, in case you’re wondering. Not that you cared that he started treating me like scum practically overnight. All you’ve ever cared about was taking over the company.”

  “You pulled him off her?” he questions in disbelief. His head cocked to the side in confusion.

  “Do you care? You don’t treat her much better than he does.”

  “She’s my mother,” he says with a pained sigh. As if his reaction is supposed to convince me that he suddenly feels something for our mother. That he might actually give a shit about her struggle.

  “Then why is it that you’re so conveniently ignorant about what her life is like?”

  “If I’d have known …” he starts. He’s trying to defend himself, actually defend his behavior toward his family. I refuse to allow him to spew his nonsense to me. Not even for a minute.

  “What? What would you have done, huh? Would you have gotten between them like I did, Jacob? Would you have jeopardized your shot at taking over the hotels?”

  “Yes,” he bites out, his face turning red with anger, but I don’t care. I don’t care if it makes him angry that I’m questioning his integrity, his morals, because for way too long, he’s shown very little of either.

  “Bullshit. You and I both know that you have no use for anything unless it helps to further your agenda and get you ahead. You never once questioned why all of a sudden I was stripped of my job and demoted. Why all of a sudden our father could barely even stand to look at me. You just cared about yourself and what it meant for you.”