The One That Matters

by Elle Linder

  “What do you care? It’s none of your business,” she shot back but tremored inside. Just knowing Parker was watching gave her the courage to speak more freely.

  “It won’t last. Mr. Celebrity—superhero—whatever the fuck he’s called will drop you the second a younger woman catches his eye. He’s way out of your league.”

  “Parker is his name!”

  Craig ground his teeth and his nostrils flared. “He’ll run after one look at your body. You might look good in clothes, but it’s a mirage. Enjoy the fantasy while it lasts. You couldn’t satisfy him or any other man in bed. I should know. Just keep your damn clothes on,” he warned.

  “Do you always have to be a dick? Maybe you do since you can’t do anything beyond five minutes with the one you have.”

  Craig’s eyes filled with contempt and as his mouth opened to set her straight, Marie saw Parker step out of the house

  “Everything all right?” Parker said as he approached. He took Marie’s hand and she squeezed it. Parker was about four inches taller than Craig with a larger muscular build. Craig wouldn’t stand a chance against him if it came to blows.

  “It’s fine,” Craig said. “Don’t forget what I said. Keep ‘em on.”

  Marie waved at Jackson as the truck drove off. She turned to Parker. “Sorry about that. I hope I haven’t made us late.” She frowned. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply and her stressed body relaxed.

  “You have done nothing wrong. We aren’t late. That’s the beauty of a chartered plane.” He smiled down at her. “Your ex is a fucking asshole.”

  Marie giggled. “I heard Ann bossing you around.”

  “Yeah, she stopped me from coming out and pounding him into the ground.”

  “I’m glad she stopped you, it might have gotten ugly. But I’m flattered.”

  The foursome arrived at Parker’s mansion just before midnight. Dave and Brooke cuddled in the backseat, while Marie sat quietly in the front, staring out the window on the drive. In fact, the whole evening she was quieter than usual. She had tried her best to have a good time, but whenever she remembered what Craig said, she’d tense up and fell into herself. The entire evening dozens of thoughts swirled in her head, making her question everything. Parker had asked her several times throughout the night if she was okay. She admitted to him Craig had rubbed her wrong, but it was no big deal because she was used to it. Her attitude would perk up for a while, and then she would sink back down into herself. Her constant thought was that Parker didn’t deserve to be mixed up in her messy life.

  Was Craig right? Was she living a fantasy with Parker? Him, a celebrity. Her, a paralegal. They were leagues apart. The whole night she had watched younger women gawk at him with their firm, perky breasts and tight asses. Once he saw her body, would he gasp in horror? It scared her to think about having sex with him. With her lack of experience and soft body, she would surely disappoint him. Maybe she was a fool thinking she could have something meaningful with him…with anyone.

  As the night had progressed, anxiety and sadness had consumed her, even though Parker showered her with a tender affection. She adored him—wanted him. But she didn’t deserve him. Damn Craig.

  The second Brooke entered the estate it was as if she had died and gone to heaven. Marie watched her scan each room at top speed, taking it all in, determined not to miss anything. Since it was Brooke’s first time in a mansion, her wonderment was understandable. It was not only beautiful with the highest quality of materials and decor, but it was also warm and inviting. It reflected its owner to a T. Marie smiled as she marveled at its luxurious beauty, remembering her awe the first time on the property.

  As she continued to watch Brooke, she admired how comfortable she and Dave were together. It hadn’t taken them long to act on their mutual attraction in Vegas. The change occurred during dinner after Parker took selfies with some “adoring” fans. Dave had laughed, saying, “It’s part of the job, but I’m glad I can live life without being asked for pictures.” Then he leaned toward Brooke and kissed her. From that moment, they had stayed connected by hands, lips, or wrapped in each other’s arms. The sight of them spurred Marie’s envy. Such laissez-faire…what limitless boundaries, being able to start a new relationship without baggage. How glorious. To add insult to injury, Brooke had an amazingly fit body. Dave was in for a treat. It was salt in an open wound. Marie sunk further into herself, and a fortress went up around her heart. The decision made, she’d stop dating Parker.

  “This place is spectacular, Parker.” Brooke beamed.

  “Thank you. I’ll take your things to your room,” he offered.

  “That’s okay, I’ve got it.” Dave winked, and Parker’s brows shot up.

  “Sure, man.”

  Brooke shot Marie a cheeky grin, followed by a shimmy when the guys weren’t looking.

  Well then, not sure why I’m surprised.

  “We’ll see you two in the morning,” Dave said.

  “Yes, goodnight Marie,” Brooke said. “Parker.”

  “Goodnight, sweetie,” Marie said.

  “Well, I guess that leaves only you and me. Let’s take your things to your room.” Parker took her hand and led her upstairs.

  Marie’s heart galloped, fearful of the finish line. She knew the room he was taking her to, the one next to his. She would have been fine in the south wing with Brooke and Dave. Apparently, that wasn’t where he wanted her. It thrilled her to know he wanted her close, but it also terrified her. What were his expectations? Before they got to the door, she stopped. Parker looked down at her, expectant.

  “Wait. I’m not sure what I want.” She frowned, looking at the guest room and down the hall, past the second-floor office toward his room. She took a deep breath, thinking.

  “You know, we don’t have to do anything except sleep,” he assured her.

  “Is that right? You can just sleep in a bed with me?”

  “Yes. I can hold you through the night.”

  “That’s some restraint,” she said. Parker tilted his head down, staring into her eyes and stomach twisted.

  To be held through the night sounded lovely, but she lost her nerve. She had to stick to her plan. Besides, what if he tried for more? “I’ll stay here,” she said, walking into the room without looking at him. Had she seen the disappointment on his face, she wouldn’t have been able to refuse him.

  “Okay.” He put her bag down and pulled her into his arms. “I know something’s been bothering you today. What is it? Craig?” He pressed his lips to her forehead. And she leaned into him. This genuine man acted as though he cared about her. She loved it.

  “Yes. He knows how to ruin my day. I’ll be better in the morning,” she said, forcing a smile.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to hold you tonight?”

  “I’m not ready for that but thank you for everything.” Lies. She didn’t have to be a martyr anymore. There was no need to deny herself. He’d fulfill her every need and want, all night long. Or so that’s what Ann told her. But Marie believed she was saving him from her complicated life…and herself from mortal embarrassment.

  “If you need anything, I’m a few yards down the hall.” He cupped her face and kissed her with a tenderness she had been craving her whole life. She gripped his waist, not wanting to let him go…not wanting the kiss to end…burning the feel of his lips and the taste into her memory. Mere seconds later, it ended.

  “Goodnight, beautiful.” He lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her palm, leaving behind his essence, and the realization that tomorrow it would be over.

  Marie savored the moment and would keep it close to her heart…even when it was all over. “Goodnight, Parker.” She closed the door behind him and traced her lips with her finger as her eyes welled with tears.

  This won’t work. It can’t work. It has to end before I…she wouldn’t let herself think it.

  In the bathroom, Marie undressed in front of the large mirror that spanned the lengt
h of the luxurious bath, giving her a full view of her body. Above the ivory marble counter with grey veins and the onyx faucet, her eyes traveled to her satin bikini underwear. They were nothing special…three years old, and the nicest pair she owned. She remembered the day she bought them at Victoria’s Secret…the day she signed the divorce papers. Ann had insisted she treat herself to new panties and perfume, after the hell she had been through before and after the divorce. Marie turned to look at her ass. “Nothing impressive there,” she said disdain in her voice, and a glare full of contempt. It was laughable, wearing them on the off chance they might have sex. That was Marie trying to be prepared for every situation, but deep down, it was only her wild fantasy of being ravaged by Parker Nichols…like in her bathtub.

  And there were her breasts. If they were firm, they’d be a respectable C-cup and desired by men. But soft with a pillow-y bounce didn’t cut it. It didn’t matter what Ann said about soft breasts fitting in their mouths easier. Two words came to mind: horrific and embarrassing. “Why didn’t I get that boob job?” The fact of the matter was, breasts mattered to men. Big or small, size didn’t matter. Firm and perky was where it was at…that is, according to Craig.

  The lighting in the bathroom provided full illumination of her naked body; this wasn’t a positive. In some ways, having tan skin was a blessing, as it was forgiving of minor imperfections. If she could have seen past Craig’s negativity, she would have seen that her body wasn’t horrible like she believed. Sure, she didn’t have rock hard abs, and her breasts weren’t like they were pre-kids. Still, she had a fabulous body. Her thoughts were a product of Craig’s lies. They controlled her in a way that made her believe she was hideous—gross—disgusting.

  Marie pulled her nightshirt over her head and crawled into bed, beat up after her self-deprecating tongue lashing. It was as if Craig had been there. She could regurgitate his putdowns, word for word. And yet, knowing Parker was steps away made her yearn for him. The way he had stepped between her and Craig earlier, ready to protect her made her feel valued. Other than Ann and the girls, no one stood up for her. But she couldn’t do this with Parker. It wasn’t fair to him. He deserved a woman who could match his youthfulness and sexual experience. Not her. Not the divorced mother of two with breasts falling south, and who’d never had a sexual experience last beyond ten minutes. Parker deserved so much better than what she could give him. There was nobody more wonderful, funny, sexy, and sweeter than him. And she was none of that. Plus, she was older than him by a few years. Oh crap, what if he wants children? No, no, no… I need to stop this before we get in too deep. Before I… fall in love with him.

  The morning light streamed onto Marie’s face from the glass French doors, waking her with its warm radiance. She stretched, reaching for her phone to see what time it was—6 am. Like clockwork, she always awoke before six, no matter what time she went to bed. And just like that, she rolled out of bed, ready to start the day.

  “Okay Marie, today’s the day you pull back from whatever this is,” she rallied herself. “You gotta let him go. He’ll find someone new…younger. And you can look for someone normal.” She paused when Seth entered her mind. A divorced man with three kids. Should she consider him? He was older than Parker. And he wanted a chance. “If you don’t want to be alone, you’ll consider him,” she told herself, looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Do we want to be alone?” No.

  After she indulged herself in the expensive marble shower with a phenomenal waterfall shower head, she dressed for the day. The French doors beckoned her to open them. And when she did, the fresh, salty ocean air enveloped her, and its deep blue waters calmed her nervous angst. There was a private balcony off the guestroom adorned with a lovely bistro table and chairs. It made for a perfect spot to sit and savor the view while inhaling the morning sea air. This was her last time there, after all.

  The elegant Mediterranean estate was quiet and peaceful at seven in the morning. She wondered if Parker might be awake, but the quiet grounds told her no one was up yet. Was it safe to venture downstairs? Perhaps it was too early? After all, they had arrived after midnight. She’d wait a little longer before going downstairs. The fear of being rude or offending kept her in place.

  Across the courtyard, the balcony of one of three additional guest rooms on the south end of the mansion caught her eye. The iron railing was like hers but smaller, with clay pots filled with orange flowers. She guessed they were California poppies. French doors mirrored hers with sheer drapes covering them. The room was dark. Was it Brooke and Dave’s? She laughed, guessing it was, confident it had seen more action than she had…by her own choice, of course.

  That Brooke… I’m sure she had a good night’s sleep.

  At 7:30 am, she couldn’t stand being secluded in the posh suite any longer. No matter how pampered she felt inside the well-appointed room, she had to go downstairs. If no one was up, she’d go out by the pool and relish the peaceful view of the Pacific Ocean in the solitude of Parker’s tropical oasis. The halls, his private office, the movie room…all were quiet. Then her ears dialed into a soft clinking from the kitchen. To her delight, someone was awake, and she hoped it wasn’t Parker. The dread of ending it with him and never seeing him again already tormented her.

  Marie followed the noise and tiptoed to the entrance of the kitchen, and peeked in. An older woman was at the island preparing food.

  “Good morning,” Marie said to the woman as she entered the kitchen.

  “Good morning. You must be one of Mr. Nichols’ guests. I’m Vicky, his housekeeper. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Vicky. I’d love a cup. Point me in the right direction, and I’ll help myself.”

  Vicky smiled. “I’ll get it for you, dear. It’s my job.” Vicky looked at her closely, examining her like Marie’s mother would. However uneasy she felt, she would endure Vicky’s inspection as she did her mother’s. It was easy to see her assessment of Marie was thorough, but when she smiled warmly, her eyes said it all. They were kindred spirits. Marie was not intimidating like royalty or the Hollywood elite; she was more like the help.

  “Okay…I appreciate it. I’ll have cream; no sugar, please.” Marie watched, mesmerized by Vicky’s graceful movements pouring the coffee and cream into a lovely ocean blue mug.

  When she handed her the cup, Marie inhaled the comforting aroma. “Thank you so much. I’ve been up since six. I gotta have my coffee first thing in the morning.” She took a sip. “Mmm,” she hummed, sitting down on a barstool at the island.

  “Well, in the future I’m here at six. Just come on down; the coffee will be ready.” Her voice was pleasant with a soft and airy quality that appealed to Marie.

  A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach jostled her when Vicky’s words finally registered. There would not be “in-the-future” visits. The painful reminder crushed her. Marie shook the sad thoughts out of her head and relaxed on the barstool, observing Vicky doing her job.

  Vicky prepared a fruit tray and made fresh whipped cream. Next, she mixed up waffle batter and laid some pastries on a platter. The two chatted casually. Each time Marie asked if there was something she could help with, Vicky declined her offer in a sweet, respectful manner. Marie didn’t know why Vicky wouldn’t let her help. It seemed over-the-top as far as she was concerned.

  “Which do you prefer, bacon or sausage?” Vicky asked. Her question caught Marie by surprise. “Mr. Nichols didn’t specify. Whatever you select will be fine.”

  “I’d love bacon, but if he likes sausage, do the sausage.”

  “Bacon it is. He would want to please his guest.” Vicky nodded.

  “How long have you worked for Mr. Nichols?”

  “Three years now, since he bought the mansion. He’s one of the best employers I’ve ever had,” Vicky replied in a plummy voice. With her refined manners and graceful gestures, she had to be English, but in California? That’s rare…or perhaps socialites and celebritie
s preferred English servants waiting on them. It was odd that Parker had an English housekeeper, considering most of "the help" in Southern California were Mexicans. It wasn’t what she expected.

  “Wow, that’s saying a lot.” Though she wasn’t surprised at all. Parker had shown himself to be a kind and generous man, and the more she learned about him, the more she respected him. It was heartbreaking really, as he was everything she wanted and more.

  “I’m not exaggerating. I assure you, Mr. Nichols is wonderful. Have you known him long?”

  “No, but I agree, he’s wonderful.” Marie smiled. Vicky smiled back, studying her again. Just as quickly, she redirected herself back to preparing the food.

  Marie sat spellbound as Vicky cut an assortment of fruit into fun shapes. Vicky displayed her artistic talents well with a paring knife. In her trance, Marie didn’t hear Parker come up behind her. He sat down, wrapping his arm around her back, and pulled her close, kissing her cheek.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” Her eyes brightened, seeing him. “Have you been up long? You could’ve come to my room and woke me.”

  Those blue eyes… The longing in them...she was sure they mirrored her own. “I’ve been up for a little while, enjoying your lovely home.”

  He rubbed her back, drinking her in.

  She had never felt more desired than she did with him, nor did she ever feel more tormented. “I’ve also enjoyed sitting here with Vicky. Her coffee is the best.” She smiled up at him. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips this time, sensually. It was clear he didn’t care that Vicky was in the kitchen—she was the help, after all. Vicky understood her place, turning away. Marie laid her hand against his cheek, savoring the kiss. “Mmm,” she hummed, pulling back. She couldn’t let herself get lost in him.

  “So what time do you need to be back for Jackson?” Parker accepted a cup of coffee from Vicky, and he nodded in appreciation. Marie pondered the question. If Parker knew she was going to be alone, she was sure he’d asked her to stay, and she couldn’t do that.