by Ali Parker
“Did you dig there?” another student asked.
I nodded. “I did. I was part of a team that went searching for a tomb widely theorized to exist in the Valley. Archaeologists and historians have been searching for it since the discovery of Tutankhamen. Does anyone know which pharaoh I’m referring to?”
The same young woman who’d asked if I’d been to the Valley before shot her hand into the air and gripped the edge of her table with her free hand.
I pointed at her. “Go ahead.”
“Ramses VIII, sir?”
“Very good.” I nodded.
“But you didn’t find anything?” another student asked.
It was normal during discussions like this for students to forgo the ritual of raising their hands. I didn’t mind. In fact, I preferred it. Like calling for their attention, I found the practice of raising one’s hand a bit childish.
“No, we didn’t find anything. Just a hell of a lot of sand and limestone. But there are more and more theories being thrown around. More suggestions of potential dig sites to set up shop and try again.”
The girl in the front row rested her chin in her hand. “If they asked you to go back, would you?”
I didn’t have to think about my answer. “Yes. I would drop anything and everything to have a shot at something like that. Opportunities like that don’t come our way very often. They require funding and approval and copious amounts of tedious paperwork. The stars have to align for everything to fall into place. A little bit of advice to those of you pursuing a career in Archaeology: if you’re invited to a dig anywhere, you go. No questions. Will you find something on your first dig? Probably not. Your fifth? Still unlikely. But one day, if you’re really lucky, you’ll be the son of a bitch to discover something the earth swallowed up a long, long time ago. And there is no better feeling than that. I promise you.”
The auditorium buzzed with excited energy as I adjusted the shoulder strap of my bag on my shoulder. “All right. I have to duck out early today, guys. Don’t forget, you have your own first assignments due next Friday. As discussed, you have to have them in my inbox by noon. Any late assignments will not be accepted and will not count toward your grade. No exceptions. Now get out of here. See you all on Friday.”
For the first time this semester, I was the first one out of the auditorium door. I strode with purpose down the hall and took a sharp right to take the stairwell up to the offices on the top floor above the lecture hall level. My office was the third door on the right, and I was lucky to have scored a view over the grounds down below. The expanse of healthy green grass was broken up with shocks of orange and red as the leaves on the trees changed colors. It was a magnificent sight, and one I had not tired of in my five years of teaching here.
Students milled around on the grounds down below. Some had set up blankets and were sitting in circles, poring over their texts, head bowed, and mouths moving in study practice sessions as they quizzed each other.
I’d studied at Harvard, too. My parents had pushed me hard to graduate a year and a half early from high school. After that—and including all of my extra-curriculars, of course—I was a shoo-in to study here amongst the best.
And now, I taught the best.
Funny how things came full circle like that.
I shrugged out of my tan suede vest and swapped it out for the dark brown leather jacket draped over the back of my chair. I adjusted the collar of my white button-up, smoothed the shirt, and did a quick scan of the room to make sure I wasn’t forgetting something.
Then someone knocked on my door.
I don’t have time for delay, I thought as I crossed my office in three long strides. I jerked the door opened and braced myself with one hand against the frame. “Yes?”
A doe-eyed copper-haired young woman blinked up at me. “Hi, Christian. Sorry, is now a bad time?”
“Heather.” I grinned sheepishly. “I wasn’t expecting you. I didn’t even know you were in Cambridge.”
Heather, a colleague of mine here on campus, gave me a wide smile, showing me all of her straight white teeth. “I’m back from our semester abroad. I was hoping you’d have a spare minute to catch up over coffee?”
Shit. What God-awful timing. I glanced at my wristwatch. “Sorry, Heather. Now isn’t a good time. I have to pick someone up at the airport, and I’m already running a bit behind.”
“Oh.” Heather tucked a strand of wild copper hair behind one ear and backed up as I moved out to join her in the hallway. I pulled the door closed behind me and locked it as she stepped to the side to lean against the wall. “Someone special?”
“I’m not sure yet, actually.”
“Well, I’m here straight through until January now. We’ll have plenty of time to—you know—spend some time together. It’s been far too long.”
I flashed her a white smile of my own. “We’ll make it happen, Heather. Cross my heart. I hate to duck out on you so fast like this, but time is fleeting.”
“Don’t worry. I know where to find you.”
I closed a hand on her shoulder. “Welcome back.”
I didn’t look back to see if Heather was looking after me as I jogged down the hall, my book bag bouncing against my hip. She and I had a somewhat complicated and interwoven history, where neither of us had been available at the same time, and our friendship was always this glaring reminder that we might ruin things if we took our relationship to the next step.
Heather was a friend.
Piper, on the other hand, was the girl who had the potential to be more.
To be everything perhaps.
I had the career, the reputation, and the lifestyle I’d always desired.
All that was missing was the beautiful woman by my side to share all those things with, and who I could inspire to follow her dreams. If I remembered anything about the dark-haired bombshell from December, it was that she was a woman in control of her own fate.
And that spoke to me more than anything else.
Chapter 3
Piper
Boston Logan International Airport was a sprawling expanse of terminals and restaurants and shopping areas, and when I got off my flight, I found myself wandering around in desperate search of coffee.
I’d been so stressed out last night about meeting my parents for coffee in the morning that I’d barely slept. Despite all the flights I’d caught over the course of the year, I was still an anxious flyer, so catching a nap on the flight was a no go. Now I was dead tired, and all my worrying last night had been for naught.
Relief washed over me when I happened across a coffee shop with a short line. I toted all my luggage along behind me, ordered a large Americano Misto, and sipped it slowly as I wandered toward the exit, keeping my eyes peeled for the man of the month.
Christian Peterson.
To be honest, he was one of the men at all the events who had kind of faded into the background. The time I spent with him had been short and sweet, and he made me feel at ease, but he hadn’t been all that memorable.
Then again, if there hadn’t been such big personalities in the room, that might have been a different story.
What I remembered of Christian was his easygoing smile and his relaxed demeanor. That kind of personality might be just what I needed, going into a new month. My heart was heavy from heartbreak and the situation with my parents. I didn’t know which of the two was getting me down more.
That wasn’t true.
Not true at all.
I just didn’t want to admit in my own head which disappointment brought me down more. Because that only invited in a whole new wave of guilt. And shame. And loneliness.
Janie had given me a serious talking to last night in our apartment as I braced myself for the storm I thought was coming in the morning. She’d told me that none of this was my responsibility and that I had acted to benefit my family. None of what I had done was selfish, and therefore, I shouldn’t feel guilty about any of it.
But words
were just words. And even though a big part of me knew she was right, another part of me squirmed at the thought that I was to blame for the way my family seemed to be coming apart at the seams.
“Piper?”
I looked up from the shiny tile floors of the terminal and came to a nearly skidding stop in front of the best-looking man within a thirty-mile radius. It was just a guesstimate, but I was fairly certain it was accurate.
“Uh, hi,” I said, wishing the caffeine in my coffee had kicked in sooner.
Christian, all six feet and a few inches of him, stood back and looked me up and down. A smile broke across his face, pushing dimples into his cheeks and making him look a lot more boyish than he had seconds before. “Wow, you’re even more beautiful than I remembered. How did I get this lucky?”
I smiled. There. That was something else I remembered about him. He was charming.
Very charming.
I adjusted my purse strap on my shoulder and sipped my Americano. “The same way as all the others, I suppose. You were blessed with a good face, and you have a massive bank account. Sound about right?”
Christian blinked, and then he threw his head back in unabashed laughter. People walking by looked at him, some of them grinning as they passed. His laughter was undeniably contagious. Women cast glances over their shoulders once they walked by, just to steal an extra couple seconds of looking at him.
I couldn’t blame them.
He was a sight and a half.
Christian was wearing a pair of dark-wash jeans that fit him perfectly. He’d paired them with a pair of dark brown boots, Blundstones or something of the like, a white button-up shirt, and a brown leather jacket. He looked like the sort of man who might appear on a men’s business magazine, all poise and sophistication and rugged good looks.
And his eyes.
I didn’t have words to describe their deep, royal blue.
Christian stepped forward and took my bags, slinging one over his right shoulder and another over his left. Then he took my massive suitcase from my hand. “Sounds right to me. Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here. Airports make me want to start drinking.”
I had to do a little hop step every five seconds or so to keep pace with Christian’s long strides. The crowds in the airport parted for him unlike anything I’d ever seen before. His presence commanded attention, and his purposeful walk seemed to deter anyone and everyone from getting in his way.
I needed to find a way to channel that into my own walk somehow. It would have served me well with all the time I’d spent in airports this year.
We broke free of the chaos of the airport, crossed the sidewalk outside the terminal, and plunged into the cool darkness of a six-level concrete parking garage. My sneakers shuffled along the concrete as I hurried along behind October’s bachelor, and he seemed to realize how fast he was going.
He slowed his pace and looked over his shoulder at me. “Sorry, Piper. I tend to forget that I walk like I’m in a race.”
“It’s all right.” I was out of breath from our mad dash through the airport. “I could use a bit of a workout.”
He chuckled, and we stopped at the trunk of a pearl-white luxury SUV. It was all sleek lines and chrome finishes—very expensive. Christian popped the hatch, loaded in my bags, and came around the passenger side to open my door for me.
“Should we make a pit stop anywhere on the way to the house?” he asked. “It’s about a forty-five-minute drive. You need a drink? Something to eat? Anything for your stay?”
“No, I’m all right. I brought everything I’d need.”
Christian reached inside and tugged my seatbelt forward, handing the clip to me.
I smiled. “Thank you.”
He closed the door and walked around the back of the vehicle to make his way to his side. As he did so, I noticed something bizarre.
My stomach was fluttering with butterflies.
“Little fuckers,” I breathed. How was this possible? How, after all the men I’d been with and fallen for, was it comprehensible that I could have feelings like this after being in Christian’s company for a grand total of seven minutes?
You’re a horrible person, I thought bitterly.
Christian swung himself up into the driver’s seat, put on his seatbelt, and started the SUV. He flashed me a smile as he twisted around in the seat and gripped the back of my headrest to pull out of the parking space. “I’ve been looking forward to your visit all year. It felt like I had to wait ages. You know?”
I bit my bottom lip. “Yeah.”
He removed his hand from the back of my seat and put it on my shoulder. “Who am I kidding? Why would you feel the same way? You’ve had a whirlwind of a year. I bet time is flying for you. You’ve been able to see the world, meet new people, explore. Has everyone been good to you?”
“Pardon?”
“The men,” he clarified. “Have they all been good to you?”
“Oh. Yes. Yes of course. Everyone has been very accommodating and pleasant.”
Accommodating? Really, Piper? Is that the word you’re going to go with in hopes he doesn’t think you’ve fucked them all? Which, friendly reminder, you have.
Christian straightened out the wheel, and we drove toward the exit. He wore a sheepish smile the whole way, seemingly unbothered by the discussion of the company I’d kept over the course of the year. “I’m glad to hear it. Back in December, I was a little wary about some of them. You know when someone just gives you a bad feeling?”
“Sure.”
“Well, there were one or two I thought might… rub you the wrong way.”
I laughed softly as we emerged into the cool daylight from under the parking garage. “You’re referring to Easton and Cooper?”
“Am I that transparent?”
I laughed more earnestly now and shook my head. “It’s all right. You’re not the first to express concern in their regard. But rest assured, they were perfect gentlemen. Well, by the end of the month, they were anyway. I had to whip them into shape, of course.”
“Of course,” he said with a lopsided smile. “A woman like that is a woman worth holding on to. Cooper is intolerable.”
“He’s not that bad once you get to know him. Once you figure out what makes him tick.”
Christian eyed me with a playful smirk curling the corners of his mouth. “And did you?”
“What?”
“Figure out what made him tick?”
I wished I’d kept my big mouth shut as my cheeks began to burn. I swallowed.
Christian laughed. It was that same carefree laughter that had come out of him in the airport. “I’m just messing with you, Piper. No need to answer that. Although I’ll take that redness in your cheeks as a yes.”
I looked out the window. “He has more depth than people give him credit for.”
“A Rockefeller with depth? Who’d have ever thought?”
Frowning, I turned back to the handsome man behind the wheel. “You know he’s a Rockefeller?”
“Of course. You didn’t?”
I shook my head.
Christian frowned. “Huh. Well, I could be mistaken, but I feel like that’s an important bit of information Jackson Lee probably should have shared with you before you flew all the way to Cooper’s little island and spent thirty days with him. He’s reckless. And I know I’m not the only man who didn’t like the idea of you being alone with him.”
I blinked. I expected the men to talk about each other, but I hadn’t expected them to talk about me. Now that I thought about it, that was a really naive way to think, but it was true. I figured they would want to leave me out of conversations. Not knowing was better.
“Other guys didn’t want me to spend time with Cooper?”
Christian chuckled. “Piper, none of them wanted you to get stuck with that jackass. Except maybe Easton. But he’s too arrogant to think of anything past his own nose.”
I ran my hands down my thighs.
Great. They
were all talking about me. Or had talked about me. Were they still talking about me? Did they keep in touch? Did they fill each other in on how their month went with me when it was all said and done and I’d already caught my flight home?
No. Not possible. There was no way my men would do that.
For the rest of the drive to Christian’s house, I gawked at the thought that I had just referred to all the men prior to Christian as mine.
It was early evening when we pulled into a long driveway flanked by a perfectly manicured green lawn. It was sparse. There weren’t many plants or flowers except for a willow tree between the detached garage and house.
“Wow,” I breathed as I peered up at the home. “Your house is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Christian’s voice was colored with pride. “I grew up here. My father built this place. Well, restored it. The shop was actually the original house on the property. When he purchased it for him and my mother, she was pregnant with me, and he decided they needed more space, so he turned this spot into her dream home. She was born and raised in Georgia.”
That made sense.
The beautiful Georgian colonial sat like a proud monument in the middle of the property. It was stark white with black window shutters and a classic red door with an iron knocker. It was the kind of house in all the movies, and I wondered how beautiful it would be at Christmastime with the lights and a tree glittering in the front window.
“You live here alone?” I asked.
Christian chuckled. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be bringing you here, would I?”
Chapter 4
Christian
I lugged Piper’s bags over the threshold into the entrance of the house, and she stepped in behind me, her cardigan wrapped tightly around her and her hands tucked under her armpits. She did what everyone did who stepped into this house for the first time. She looked up and gawked at the massive chandelier hanging from the open ceiling on the second level in front of the grand white-wood staircase.