by Tiffany Snow
“Right.”
“But, like, with work, I’m stuck, ya know?” He nodded. I squinted blearily at him. “What’s your name again?”
“Han,” he said.
I squinted even harder. “Like Star Wars?”
“Yep.”
“Huh.” I didn’t think I’d ever met someone named after Star Wars before. “What was I saying?” It was hard to remember, so I shrugged, taking another sip. It was really going to my head now, despite the dinner I’d eaten, but I was past the when-to-say-when stage and had hopped on the gonna-regret-this-tomorrow train.
Han was funny, and talkative, and he really liked me. Or at least he pretended to like me, which was more than I could say for Parker, who didn’t even think I was a hard worker, but just a slut who’d sleep with her boss and he didn’t even care about people but just money and he should know better than that because karma is a bitch and he wouldn’t be able to even find his own computer if it weren’t for me…
“…and it’s not like I’m a pain in the ass,” I complained. “I never call in sick, or take vacation days, or personal days. I’m at his beck and call twenty-four-seven—” I interrupted my own diatribe to finish off my third—fourth?—glass of wine. I had to pee. “Excuse me,” I said, sliding off the stool, wobbling for a moment on my heels before my equilibrium righted itself. “I’ll be right back.”
The floor felt like it was shifting sand as I searched for the bathroom, the room spinning around me. I used the facilities and washed my hands, glancing in the mirror at my smeared mascara and bun that was sadly listing to the side. I started taking pins out, carelessly tossing them on the floor, then ran my fingers through the freed strands.
“Much better,” I sighed. I was tired. Time to leave.
Star Wars guy—Luke, was it?—was still there when I got back and I handed my credit card to the bartender to take care of the tab.
“I gotta go,” I said to him, “but thanks for the company.”
“Let me help you get a cab,” he said as I pocketed my card and signed the bill.
He followed me as I tottered outside, letting me hold on to his arm for balance, then whistled and flagged down a taxi. The cab pulled over and Obi-Wan opened the door for me.
“Have a good evening, Sage,” he said as I settled inside. He told the name of my hotel to the driver.
I glanced back at him with a frown. “How’d you know where I was staying?”
He leaned inside and smiled, though it wasn’t nearly as friendly a smile as before. “Viktor told me.” Then he shut the door and the driver stepped on the gas.
A wave of cold washed over me as I struggled to think, but my mind was too fogged. I rested my head against the seat.
“Hey, lady, we’re here.”
I jerked awake, realizing I’d fallen asleep during the ride back to the hotel. I dug in my purse, handing over a couple of crumpled bills before climbing out of the cab.
I knew I looked like someone who was incredibly drunk but trying desperately hard to appear not to be.
The catnap in the taxi had helped a bit, though the lobby was spinning and tilting as I made my way painfully forward, careful with each step I took. Making a scene by falling on my ass in the lobby of a five-star hotel in Manhattan was not how I wanted New York to remember me.
At this hour, there was a bellman at the elevator and he asked me what floor. I scrunched my forehead, trying to remember. The bellman stared at me.
“Fourteen!” I said at last, proud I’d remembered. “Yes, fourteenth floor.”
The hallway was long and quiet and I talked to myself as I passed the doors. “Fourteen-ten, fourteen-eleven, fourteen-twelve…wow, this hallway has great acoustics.” Testing it out, I sang a few bars of one of my favorite Material Girl songs. I wasn’t the best singer, but wow, tonight I sounded awesome.
I was finishing the second verse by the time I got to fourteen-twenty-seven. Digging through my purse, I’d just hit the chorus when the door suddenly flew open.
“Where the hell have you been?”
I stumbled back, abruptly cutting off in the middle of didn’t know how lost I was until I found you. I lost my balance and Parker’s hand shot out, grabbing hold of my arm and keeping me from falling.
“I went to dinner,” I retorted. “Where do you think?” I remembered I was mad at him, but couldn’t recall why. Shaking off his hand, I pushed past him into the room. I was headed for my bed when the bathroom caught my eye.
A bath sounded really good. Yeah. A relaxing bubble bath.
I detoured, my purse falling to the floor as I flipped on the light in the bathroom. Bending over the tub, I grabbed hold of the side so I wouldn’t topple in, and turned the knob. Water began pouring out of the spigot. I plugged the drain and stood.
“What are you doing?”
Glancing around, I saw Parker watching me from the doorway. He looked pissed and disheveled, the first of which was to be expected—the latter, not.
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been all fucking night?” he spat. “I’ve tried to call you at least a hundred times.”
“Too bad,” I shot back. “I took the night off.”
My feet hurt. I bent a knee and tugged off a shoe, letting it fall to the floor, then did the same for the other. I wiggled my toes and sighed. Much better.
Parker made a noise of disgust and reached past me to turn off the water.
“Stop that!” I said, yanking a handful of his shirt. “I want to take a bath!”
“You’re so drunk, you’re liable to drown,” he said. “Forget it.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I said, poking him in the chest. “I mean, you can, like, during the day, but not at night, so just back off.” It may have made more of an impact if I hadn’t hiccupped in the middle of that.
The tub was nearly half-full now so I started unbuttoning my shirt, getting about four undone before growing impatient and tugging it over my head. The room was spinning, but I knew if I could get in the tub, I’d feel so much better.
“I’m taking a bath, like it or not, so get out.” I bent to test the water temperature. Just under scalding. Perfect. I shucked my bra, then unzipped my skirt and shoved it down my legs along with my panties.
I’d put one foot into the tub when I felt hands on my waist. I yelped in surprise. Parker was still in here. “What the hell? I told you to get out.”
“Take it easy. I don’t need you falling and cracking your head open.”
“I do this all the time,” I said as the water splashed. “It’s not like I’ve never taken a bath before.” Sinking down into the steaming tub, I leaned back against the side and let out a deep sigh, my eyes sliding shut. Oh yeah. This was what I’d needed. It wasn’t as deep as my one back home, but it was good enough.
I sat like that for a while, dozing, then coming awake, then dozing again. One of the times, I opened my eyes and saw Parker still there, sitting on the closed toilet lid. He didn’t speak. He just watched me.
“Shouldn’t you leave?” I asked. “Just ’cuz you had your hands all over me last night doesn’t give you the right to a show tonight.”
“I’m afraid you’ll pass out and drown,” he said dryly. “And they’d probably accuse me of killing you, so no, I think I’ll stay.”
“Glad to know you care,” I retorted. Asshole. Whatever.
I forgot Parker entirely as my eyes slipped shut again. I groped blindly for the soap, wetting it and sliding it down my arm, over my neck and breasts, and down my stomach. Everything was soapy now, my fingers sliding over my slick skin. Suddenly, I felt the soap plucked from my hand.
“Okay, that’s enough. Time for bed.”
I’d barely registered that before I was hauled to my feet, my eyes flying open in shock. “But I still have soap on me!” I protested.
Parker reached and grabbed a washcloth off the counter. Dipping it into the water, he pressed it roughly to my neck and squeezed. Water fell in a warm ca
scade over my breasts and stomach. I rubbed the soap from my skin, noticing now that Parker’s eyes were glued to my chest and his forehead was dotted with sweat.
“Is it hot in here?” I asked.
His eyes jerked to mine. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he rasped. His tone held such incredulity, so uncommon for him, that I laughed, which didn’t go over very well. Reaching behind him again, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it roughly around me.
“You shouldn’t curse,” I said, holding on to his shoulder as I stepped out of the tub. “Especially around a lady.” I smothered a yawn.
“I was a Marine. Of course I curse.”
“Ryker was a Marine. He curses, too,” I said.
“Does he?”
“Yeah. He wanted to sleep with me.”
My foot slipped on the tile and I would’ve fallen if Parker hadn’t locked an arm around my waist. I was relaxed from the booze and the bath and sagged against him. The towel had slipped, but I was beyond caring. Scooping me up in his arms, he carried me to the bed and sat me down.
“Need my pajamas,” I mumbled, but I didn’t move. The pillow beckoned.
Parker bent and rummaged through my suitcase, returning with my jammies.
“Is this it?” he asked, a dubious look on his face as he held up the black nightie.
“Yep.” I raised my arms, waiting for him to slip it on over my head, but he didn’t. Parker just looked at me, his gaze raking down my body and back up. His throat moved as he swallowed.
“Did you let him?” he asked.
I frowned, lowering my arms. “Let who do what?”
“You said Ryker wanted to sleep with you. Did you let him?”
“Nope. Not yet. He hates you, by the way. But he’s a really…um…really good kissssser.” My words slurred and my eyes were too heavy to stay open. Then I felt my arms being lifted, each in turn, and the fabric of my nightgown settled into place.
Something nagged at me, but I couldn’t think what it was, something bad. “Viktor,” I said, frowning and trying to remember.
“Viktor? What about him?” The bed dipped as Parker sat beside me. “Sage, wake up. Tell me about Viktor. Did you see him tonight?” The urgency in his voice had me prying open my eyes.
I gave a halfhearted shake of my head. “Nope, not him. Another guy. Darth Vader.”
“What?”
I waved my hand. “Star Wars,” I explained, but Parker just looked even more confused. I heaved an exhausted sigh, forcing my lips to move. “He bought me wine, lots of it. Then put me in a cab. But he knew the hotel and I asked him, I said, ‘Hey, how do you know that?’ and he said Viktor told him.”
My head was too heavy and Parker’s shoulder was right there. I leaned against him, his arms coming up to hold me. He smelled good.
“It scared me,” I mumbled into his chest. “I don’t like being scared, Parker.”
His arms tightened around me, one palm moving up to cup the back of my head, his fingers sliding in the strands of my hair. He tucked me closer to him.
“Don’t be afraid. No one’s going to hurt you,” he said. “I swear it.”
But I was already asleep.
* * *
“Time to get up, Sage. We’ve got a flight to catch.”
The words penetrated my consciousness, right along with a massive headache. I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Come on. I let you sleep in, but now you’ve got to get up. I don’t want to miss our flight.”
I blinked blearily, squinting against the massive rays of sunshine that were trying to burn my eyeballs. Parker stood above me.
“Here’s some water and painkillers,” he said, setting something on the bedside table. “We leave in thirty minutes.” He walked away.
I sat up, blinking and wishing I’d never heard of wine, or Grey Goose. I should become a Mennonite. They didn’t drink, right? Or a Mormon. No wait, Mormons didn’t do caffeine either. Mennonite it was.
Scrabbling for the three pills he’d left, I swallowed them down with the water. He was shaving, using the mirror out here to do it, rather than in the bathroom. I assumed that was out of deference to me so I could get my ass in the shower and get ready to leave.
Rubbing my eyes, I realized I was in my nightgown. I didn’t even remember coming back to the hotel, much less changing. Oh God, had Parker been here when I’d gotten back? I’d been drunk off my ass. Not exactly the most professional way to behave with your boss. Nice one, Sage. But how to find out? I didn’t want to ask, which would be a dead giveaway as to how drunk I’d been.
Getting out of bed, I carefully made my way to the bathroom, recognizing that I hadn’t had enough time to sleep off the booze and it was still floating through my bloodstream. I wore nothing underneath the nightgown and my clothes from last night were nowhere to be seen.
I took a quick shower, pinning up my hair since I had no time to blow it dry. Makeup wasn’t to be bothered with and I dug through my suitcase while wrapped in a towel, pulling out a skirt and blouse for today. My clothes from last night had been neatly folded and put in my suitcase, which gave me pause, but I had no time to think about it.
“Thanks for the pills,” I said to Parker once I’d dressed and emerged from the bathroom. I winced. I’d tried to speak softly, but my voice sounded like a megaphone inside my head.
He was putting in his cuff links and glanced at me. If I’d thought maybe I could read something about what I’d done last night from his expression, I was disappointed.
“I need you to be functional today,” he said, picking a tie and sliding it underneath his collar.
My face flushed hotly and I nodded. “Sorry about…last night,” I said.
Parker looked my way again, his gaze sharp. “No need to apologize,” he said carefully.
I swallowed. “Were you…ah…here…when I got back?” In other words, had I changed into my pajamas in front of him? Lord, that would be mortifying.
Parker looked steadily at me, his face unreadable. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. Finally, he said, “I was asleep.”
Oh. Oh good. I breathed a sigh of relief. “I must not have woken you then,” I said, fishing just a tiny bit more.
There was a knock on the door, interrupting our conversation. I hurried to open it before they could pound on it again.
“Room service,” the man said. He was holding a tray that was emanating a smell. Bacon and eggs.
“Oh, God,” I said, bolting into the bathroom and slamming the door. And there went the last of the wine. And the pills I’d just taken.
When I was through being sick, I brushed my teeth again and wiped my face with a cold washcloth. I felt like death warmed over and my hands shook. Glancing in the mirror, I winced. Dark circles shadowed my red-rimmed eyes and I was as white as a sheet.
There was a soft tap on the door. “Sage? Are you all right?”
Parker.
“Um, yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, quickly patting my face dry. I took a deep breath and prayed he’d eaten the food really fast so I didn’t have to smell it again.
Opening the door, I glanced around, but the food wasn’t there. “Did you eat that fast?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Wrong room. Sorry about that.” Concern creased his face. “You sure you’re all right?”
I nodded, glancing away from him. God, I was so embarrassed. He’d just heard me puking in the bathroom. New York hated me. I was never coming here again. “We probably need to get going,” I said.
Parker hesitated, then turned away. I grabbed my suitcase, threw a few last things into it, and zipped it up. Slinging my purse and laptop over my shoulder, I started hauling it out of the room.
“Here, I’ll get it,” Parker said, taking the handle from me.
“Oh, um, okay.” Unexpected, but I would certainly let him. Fishing in my purse, I found my oversized sunglasses and slipped them on. My throbbing head felt fractionally better.
I fell asleep on
the way to the airport and Parker woke me when we got there. He was surprisingly kind, though I didn’t deserve it. I was still having a hard time accepting the fact that I’d gotten rip-roaring drunk on a business trip to New York—while staying in the same room as my boss.
Moronic idiot didn’t begin to cover it.
We didn’t speak until after we were on the plane. This time I was comfortably ensconced in first class next to Parker. We were midway through the flight and he had his laptop out when the flight attendant came by.
“Coffee, please, black,” he said. “And a water for her.”
I still wore my sunglasses, my head resting in my hand while my elbow was braced on the armrest, but glanced at him. He was being awfully nice and considerate…and a flash of memory hit me.
Oh. My. God.
I had pranced around buck-ass naked last night. I’d stripped in front of Parker, bathed in front of Parker, then had draped my naked self all over him.
I gasped aloud, my dismay and horror cutting so deep, it was sure to leave a mark.
Parker’s head swiveled, his eyes meeting mine, and I could tell at once that he knew I’d figured it out. Of course, my gaping mouth was probably a flashing neon sign. His jaw tightened.
“You told me you were sleeping!” Even I could tell that I’d said that a little too loud.
“Sage—”
“Oh God oh God oh God,” I quietly moaned. I slid my fingers beneath my glasses, covering my face with my hands. I’d be lucky if I didn’t lose my job over this. Was he even now just waiting until we got back to Chicago before telling me? The thought sent my stomach into a whole other round of churning nausea.
“Sage, listen to me—”
“Please stop. Just…don’t talk to me.”
To my relief, he shut up. I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. How was I ever going to look him in the eye again? Every moment was now back in stark Technicolor clarity, the stripping, the tub, letting him put my nightgown on…
The rest of the flight was a blur, my mind a whirl of embarrassment, dread, and regret. I didn’t want to get fired, and it wasn’t just because I loved my job, which I did. The truth was I didn’t want to not be able to see Parker anymore, which is exactly what would happen if I was canned. We had no relationship outside of work, so it wasn’t like he’d call me up or text me to meet for a friendly lunch or something. It would just be…over.