Her days at work dragged on until she found herself dreading going into the restaurant. Even on her worst days, when Sergei was being an utter tool, she had never dreaded work. She’d always loved her job, and she still did, but it just didn’t seem quite as important to her as it always had before. Not to mention the long hours were a little harder to manage now that she actually had a social life.
It was no wonder why all the professional chefs she knew were single or divorced. They were a bunch of workaholics with weird hours who didn’t get to take time off for holidays or vacations unless they wanted to risk someone younger and hungrier coming along to poach their job.
She was beginning to question whether or not this was the life she wanted. She loved the work but didn’t love her job, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be her whole life anymore. She found herself thinking more and more about that little bakery she’d always wanted to run. Maybe it was time to consider it a little more seriously.
When her phone buzzed, she realized she’d been standing in the produce section of the grocery store for the last five minutes, staring blindly at a pyramid of Granny Smith apples. And there was a very unhappy elderly woman standing directly behind her waiting for her turn.
Amanda muttered an apology and stepped aside, fishing her phone out of her pocket.
She answered without looking and immediately regretted it.
“Wow, I didn’t think you were ever going to answer your phone again,” Colin said. His tone was cold.
Shit.
She’d been ignoring his calls and his texts since that night outside the restaurant. The only reason she hadn’t already blocked him was because she’d hoped that once he cooled off they might be able to stay friends. But the longer this went on, the less likely that seemed.
“Sorry, I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah? Busy with that asshole who showed up at the restaurant putting his hands all over you?”
Amanda hardly thought that was a fair characterization of what had happened, and it was none of his business who or what she was busy with.
“Listen, Colin, we’ve been friends for a long time. Can we not do this? We went out once and I didn’t feel like it was a good fit. Can we just forget it and move on?”
“You know I recognized him, right? I’m not stupid. He works at Elysium. Is that why you agreed to go? Did you even give me a serious thought or was it just a way to get to him?”
Amanda pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to ten.
“Colin, that’s not true. I did give you a shot, it just didn’t work out. I didn’t even know he was working there when I accepted your invitation. You’re really making too much of this.”
“Okay, so I’m the bad guy here? Is that what you’re going with? For what? Because I wanted to give us a chance?” he scoffed.
“Colin, I’m not saying you’re a bad guy. There is no bad guy here, but there’s also no us. We had one date. End of story and end of conversation. If you can’t accept that, then I think it’s best if you don’t call me again.”
“I wonder what his boss might think if they found out he was fucking a guest of the club. His name’s Parker, right? Maybe I’ll give them a call and let them know.”
Amanda’s vision blurred and her blood was pounding in her veins until all she could hear was a dull roar. She could handle Colin’s snarky remarks and his entitled, delusional attitude, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him think he could get away with threatening Parker’s job.
“Do you have their number?” Amanda asked. Her voice was deadly calm. “Because I do. Kate Monroe happens to be a friend of mine. Perhaps I should give her a call and suggest she make some changes to their membership roster. What do you think, Colin? Should I call her?”
“You b-”
“I would think very fucking carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” she snarled, ignoring the looks she was getting from the shoppers around her. “Because I don’t make idle threats, Colin. Don’t call me, don’t talk to me, and get Parker’s name out of your mealy little mouth or I will have you blacklisted so fast that you won’t even be able to clock it on that hideous fake Rolex of yours.
“And I don’t just mean at Elysium. I know half the chefs and maître d’s in this city, my parents are members of every single club and organization in town that’s worth belonging to, and my sister just married a man who owns the private sector equivalent of the fucking FBI. I will torch your reputation and salt the hallowed ground you used to walk on. Don’t. Fuck. With me.”
Amanda waited for a response, ready to put every single word of her threat into action, but all she heard was a loud click. The call dropped and Amanda shoved the phone back into her pocket, still shaking with fury.
The elderly woman had finished selecting her apples and stood there watching her with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. She gave Amanda a shrewd once over before she nodded once in approval.
“Good for you, dear,” she said. She turned away and toddled on her way.
A startled laugh burst from Amanda’s lips and she slapped a hand over her mouth. She shook her head and took a deep breath, but she couldn’t shake her anger or the feeling she had in her gut that this wasn’t over.
How could she have known him for so long and still have no idea what he was really like? Was she that blind, or was he that good of an actor? Either way, the cat was out of the bag now and there was no going back. Nobody threatened someone she loved and got a second chance.
She stopped in her tracks, mouth gaping, stunned.
Did she just…
Of course, you moron. You love him.
She smiled wide, biting her lip. She couldn’t wait to tell him. But how would he react considering this whole thing was, in his mind, temporary? Would it change that for him? Or would it just make him feel bad? There was no way to find out but to just tell him. They were overdue for a serious conversation as it was.
She’d nearly gotten the question out that night a few weeks ago, but then he’d seduced her with his wiles and she’d been unable to resist. And she didn’t regret it. It was… amazing. Spectacular. Earth-shattering.
And afterward, she hadn’t been capable of putting a coherent sentence together, let alone having a conversation about his past and their future. They’d cuddled, watched movies, showered, and slept. In the morning he’d woken her up in a very creative way before feeding her breakfast and driving her to work.
And every time she’d seen him since then it had been the same. He hadn’t wanted to waste a second of the time they could find together. Between their separate schedules and having to find time when Jackson was out of the apartment, or when her place would be at least mostly empty, they hadn’t spent nearly as much time together as either of them would have liked.
And she didn’t just mean sex. She wanted him to come over and hang out with her. Go to dinner and a movie, or just out for coffee. She was nearly thirty for crying out loud. She’d stopped sneaking around years ago. She dated whoever she wanted and was unapologetic about it. If someone had a problem, it was theirs, not hers. Hiding this felt wrong in so many ways.
She wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed by Parker. Hell, she wasn’t even embarrassed about all the things they’d done together. It wouldn’t be her first topic of conversation at dinner with her parents, but she wasn’t ashamed of any of it. They were consenting adults and what they did in the bedroom, or in the shower, or on the kitchen counter was nobody else’s business.
And she desperately wanted to talk to someone. She finally had the kind of sex life she could brag about and she couldn’t say a word. And she wanted to have girls’ night and annoy all her friends because she couldn’t shut up about her amazing new boyfriend.
She had managed to fit in a coffee date with Kate the week before, and it had helped. Amanda had talked to her about some of the things that had happened, in general terms, and had asked lots of questions. It had felt so good to finally talk about it.
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Kate had even assured her that yes, the crying thing wasn’t out of the ordinary and she even commended Parker for providing excellent aftercare. Another term Amanda wasn’t familiar with, but one that was pretty self-explanatory.
Amanda had every intention of staying in touch with Kate, who had given her an open invitation to Elysium. Parker wouldn’t be thrilled, but she was hoping to convince him to take advantage of the opportunity with her. After all, she’d never gotten her full tour.
But it still wasn’t the same as talking to her sister and the girls. She really wanted to be able to get their advice on all the normal couple stuff at least.
She made up her mind then and there. Connor and Alexandra had just gotten back from their honeymoon trip to Scotland and they were having a dinner party at their place as a thank you for the bridal party.
She did not want to go to that dinner and sit across the table from Parker and pretend that nothing was going on. They were going to have a talk and settle this, one way or another.
Of course, that was easier said than done, and later that night, sitting on his couch after he’d cooked dinner for her, she nearly lost her nerve. She was comfortably tucked against his chest while he ran his hand up and down her back. It was something he was fond of doing and it always made her feel so safe and calm. She hated to pull herself away, but she knew she had to do this now.
Sitting up straight and scooting back to the opposite side of the couch, Amanda took a deep breath and uttered those four words that normally send any man into a panic.
“We need to talk.”
Rather than panic, Parker sat up taller and turned to face her, giving her his undivided attention.
“What is it?”
“You said, communication was really important, right?” Amanda asked, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them.
“Yeah.”
“So, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.” He nodded and gestured for her to continue.
“You keep saying that things between us won’t work out. You’re expecting us to fail and I need to know why.”
She held her breath and waited as Parker sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“Shit, Amanda,” he muttered, scrubbing his hand over his face. He got up and began pacing in front of the couch, running his hands through his hair. For a few minutes she thought he wasn’t going to answer and she prepared herself for the possibility that this would be the end of it.
“It’s so much easier to communicate when it’s about sex,” he mumbled to himself. He turned to face her and put his hands on his hips. “It’s complicated, but the long and short of it is we’re just too different.”
“How? I think we’re pretty damn compatible.”
“In some ways,” he replied with a sad smile. “But, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, and it’s safe to say that I don’t exactly come from a rich family or even a good family.”
“So?” Amanda asked, confused. “What does it matter?”
“Your parents are who they are and your sister is who she is and… you’re too good for me, Princess. You always will be.”
His voice was thick and he looked so desolate that she wanted to cry. And she wanted to throat punch him for spouting the most ridiculous horse shit she’d ever heard.
“That’s it? That’s insane! Do you honestly think that money matters to me at all? This isn’t Victorian England, Parker. I have a job and money of my own.”
“I’m not saying it matters to you.”
“I’m the one you’re sleeping with, so who else would it matter to?” she asked, flinging her arms out.
“Your parents, for one.”
“You’re wrong.” She shook her head. “You’re so wrong.”
Parker was quiet for a second before he replied.
“Have your parents ever tried to set you up?”
“I mean… a few times,” she admitted with a shrug.
“And how many of the guys they set you up with were working-class guys? Plumbers, mechanics, construction workers?”
Amanda couldn’t think of a single one, but that didn’t mean anything. They were all mostly sons of their friends… who were all part of the same social circle.
No. He couldn’t be right about this. She knew her parents and she knew that as long as she was happy and loved, they wouldn’t care.
“This is crazy, Parker. White-collar, blue-collar, no collar- it doesn’t change who someone is, who you are, or how I feel about you. And they’d be the first to tell you that! My sister loves you, for crying out loud. She’s been trying to get us together for months.”
That seemed to shock him and for a moment he went still and slack-jawed.
“And my dad had nothing but nice things to say about you after the wedding,” she hurried to add, hoping she finally had him on the ropes. But that seemed to be the wrong thing to say because he shook his head and began pacing again.
“Your dad might like me as some guy who works for his son-in-law, as someone he may never see again, but I’m telling you, it would be a whole different story if he knew I was dating his daughter.”
“That’s absurd,” she replied. She stood up, putting her hands on her hips. “He has no problem with Connor and you guys are a lot alike.”
“Connor’s dad is a lawyer who grew up on an estate in Scotland. Connor owns his own business, and he saved Alexandra’s life. It’s not the same. Connor is a good guy from a good family.”
“You are a good man, Parker. There’s no difference.” Her hands were clenched in frustration and she tried to make him see things from her perspective by sheer force of will.
“I’m not good, Amanda. I never have been,” he shouted. It was the first time he’d ever raised his voice to her and she took a step back out of surprise.
Parker sighed and hung his head. When he looked up at her it was with a look of hopeless resolve.
“You come from a good family, Amanda. Not just rich, but good. My family was… not just poor, but trash in every sense of the word.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“I was born in a shitty little trailer that usually didn’t have power or water because my parents forgot to pay the bill.”
“That doesn’t matter-”
“My mother was an addict, Amanda.” He put his hands on his hips and she could see the muscles jumping in his jaw. She covered her mouth with her hand, speechless. “My father was an abusive alcoholic who also happened to be her dealer and her pimp. Does that matter?”
“Oh, God…”
“Yeah. I’m sure your parents would just love to have me in the family.” He laughed bitterly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You want to know how my mom died? It was officially ruled an accidental death by overdose. But when her abuser was also her dealer and he was so controlling that he would load the needle for her it’s pretty fucking unlikely that there was anything accidental about it.”
“Parker, I-”
“After that,” he continued as if he hadn’t even heard her. From the distant look in his eyes, she wasn’t sure he had. He was somewhere else. “I was the only one left to kick around. And he did it every chance he got. When I was fifteen, I finally stood up for myself. I’d hit a growth spurt and thought I might finally be able to defend myself. I hit him and knocked him on his ass. You know what he did?”
Amanda couldn’t speak so she simply shook her head.
“Chased me out with a broken beer bottle. Gave me this little parting gift.” Parker turned to the side and folded his ear out of the way. Just behind it was a jagged scar that Amanda had never noticed before. It was faded with age, but from the look of it, the cut had been a bad one.
“He told me if I ever came back, he’d kill me. He said another dead kid with a needle in his arm wouldn’t even be a blip on the radar. No one would even notice I was gone. Nobody would care.”
“Parker-”
“Oh, there’s more. Yo
u wanted to know so you’re going to get the whole story.” He let out a harsh breath and looked down at his hands as he clenched and unclenched them, turning them over as if seeing them for the first time.
“The real kicker is, he was right. No one would care. Not a damn soul. I had one living relative, so that’s where I went. Hitched my way to Texas with no money, no food. My aunt took me in and I finally thought I could just… live. Just be a kid. But that didn’t last long. I learned pretty quickly that all she was interested in was increasing her welfare benefits.
“Otherwise, she wouldn’t have given two shits if I ended up on the street. She would constantly tell me that with the mess I made and all the things I needed for school and the food I ate that it was hardly worth it. She used to call me a waste of space, that was her favorite one.”
Amanda’s eyes filled with tears for the little boy he’d been and the man he was now; a wonderful, caring man who’d been denied everything to the point that he believed that he was entitled to nothing.
Nobody deserves to feel unwanted and unloved, especially a child. She wanted to hold him and never let him go. Not until he knew how amazing he was and how much he deserved to be loved. She took a step forward, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “She was right. I was a waste of space. Useless, worthless. I fought all the time, my grades were terrible. It was obvious I was never going to make anything of myself. I even got myself a nice little rap sheet as a juvenile. Luckily those records are sealed or the Marines wouldn’t have taken me.”
“But you made something of yourself. You were a Marine. You fought to protect people. You still do.” Her chest ached at the pain and sadness written all over his face.
“You know why?” He asked. “Jackson. He’s the only reason I did anything with my life. He was the only person who cared about me. The only one who ever stuck up for me. He took me home to his family and his parents basically adopted me. They fed me, gave me clothes, bought me presents for Christmas. Jesus, they loved their kids so much. Enough to take me in just because Jackson asked them to.”
Her Keeper Page 23
