Fawn moved to sit next to her. "Oh, Sophie, I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay." She tried to take a deep breath and halt her hysteria. "I can't believe I reacted like that. I'm just...."
"What has he done?" Fawn sounded just as fierce on Sophie's behalf as she'd been on her own.
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"Nothing. Nothing at all." She got herself under control and took a drink of her tea to ease her throat. "I just have a feeling he's running scared like his father."
"Parker is nothing like Biff," Fawn assured her. "He's nowhere near as self-absorbed."
"Maybe not. But he's pulling away from me. More gently than Biff did to you," she observed, "but pulling a bandage off slowly sometimes hurts more than ripping it off."
"I can't argue with that." Fawn studied her. "You're in love with him?"
Sophie choked out a laugh. "Can't you tell?"
"Well, yeah, it is pretty obvious."
"That's probably the problem. I'm so obvious it's pushing him away."
"No." Fawn pointed a finger at her. "This isn't about you.
It's about him and his fears."
Sophie stood and started to pace up and down the Aubusson carpet between the sofa and love seat. "It is about me. It has to be, because he's never gone this far with a woman before. He told me that." She lifted a shoulder.
"Indirectly." The night of the concert, when they'd ended up in his townhouse, she'd not-so-coyly asked how many notches he had on his bedpost.
"None," he'd told her, circling her like a shark in his bedroom. "No one else has been in this bed with me." He'd caught her against him, and she forgot the topic. Later, she'd teased that the bed must be a new one. He'd looked seriously into her eyes and told her it was six years old. She gotten the 268
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message, or thought she had. She was important to him. The first one important to him.
"Whatever makes me different to Parker is what binds us,"
she said, thinking out loud. "But it's also what threatens him.
So how do I balance it?"
"First you've got to know what it is."
"Okay, help me. Why me, and not the other women he's dated?"
"Geez, you got all day?" Fawn ticked off on her fingers.
"You're smart. You're independently ambitious. You aren't looking to snag a husband, especially a rich one. You'd have already done so, if that were the case."
"Well, we can stop there." Sophie sank onto the couch where Fawn had originally been. She thought of Vanessa Whitehead. She had been married to an old-fashioned tycoon who died of a heart attack six months after the wedding. As soon as the will was probated and she got all her money, she went looking for the next one. She'd targeted Parker, judging by her actions just before he started pursuing Sophie.
"I go after what I want," she said, still trying to figure it out. "But I didn't go after Parker."
"Men love a challenge."
"If I pursue him now, he'll probably retreat even faster."
"Good observation."
"But why?" She grit her teeth. "He was fine until your ...
until..." She stopped.
"It's okay. My miscarriage. It was horrible, but it wasn't the end of my world." Fawn looked thoughtful. "Maybe Parker doesn't realize that. Maybe he thinks I was devastated."
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Sophie frowned. "How could you not have been?"
Fawn sighed. "Consider where I come from, Sophie. I've been through a lot of tough times. Like I said, it was horrible to lose the baby, but it was a blessing if something was wrong. I can still have children. It would be more devastating to lose Biff."
Sophie still couldn't figure out why Parker would react this way to the situation. Why hadn't he come to her for comfort?
Made a commitment so he didn't have to fear losing her? How could she stop him from throwing them away?
"So do I back off? Stop pushing? I pushed last night, and he became so distant I could hardly even see him."
"And?"
Sophie sighed. "I don't know." She looked around for her purse. "I'm going to make you late for your lunch with Biff."
"Let him wait. He won't run away."
"I'm glad you're doing okay." Sophie smiled at her. "Good luck, Fawn. I hope you get your man."
"You, too." Fawn hugged her, then pulled back. "I want to be your mother-in-law."
* * * *
Sophie dressed slowly and carefully that night. She wore a long ice-blue satin cocktail gown with a draped neckline that she'd purchased for an opera opening a few years ago. She had her hairdresser squeeze her into the schedule to pile her hair into a complicated arrangement on top of her head that would fall apart with the pull of one pin. She added silk thigh-270
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high stockings, strappy shoes, and a pearl necklace with matching drop earrings.
She looked elegant and refined rather than sexy. She didn't want a repeat of last night, where she begged Parker for sex and he left her after giving her what she wanted.
She'd decided to play the waiting game. Parker was pulling away, but he wasn't gone yet. She wasn't sure why he was retreating and until she was, she couldn't take action.
Parker arrived at seven and took her breath away in his custom-fit tuxedo.
"My God, you're gorgeous." She couldn't keep the words in her head. His smile made him look like a model, and her heart did a little flip. He was taking her out in a very public manner. That had to count for something.
"So, what's the fundraiser?" she asked when they were settled into the car. She was trying to ignore the fact that he hadn't kissed her. She reached for his hand and fought the pain when he put it on the steering wheel, out of her reach.
"Autism." He glanced at her sideways. "MMT's new philanthropy."
"Really? Why?"
"Dave's son was diagnosed with it."
Sophie gasped. That darling little boy. He was only three.
"When?"
"I don't know. Recently. I guess you haven't been in touch with them."
"No." She felt terrible for Dave and his wife. Chuck had called her early last week, but she had never gotten around to returning the call. She'd been afraid he would try to talk 271
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her into coming back to MMT again, and she just hadn't been in the mood to argue.
"Do you ever feel too lucky?" she asked Parker.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, in the past few weeks there have been Trina's death, Melina's kidney, Fawn's miscarriage, and now Zachary's diagnosis. It's like it's circling closer and closer."
"What is?" He sounded irritable.
"Bad luck, fate, tragedy, whatever. Tests, you could call them." Sophie rubbed her breastbone, where a feeling of dread had settled, then took a deep breath. She was lucky, but she was also not in control. She couldn't stop bad things from happening, to other people or to herself. But she didn't need to anticipate it, either. "Never mind. I'm getting philosophical, that's all."
Parker shrugged and they drove in silence for a while.
Sophie decided to apply the "not anticipating" ploy for a while. She couldn't predict or prevent what was going to happen next with Parker, so she'd stop dreading it.
When they got to the ballroom where the fundraiser was being held, the valet opened her door and helped her out.
Parker waited for her on the curb, then took her hand and placed it on the crook of his arm. Very formal, very proper.
Very unlike them until today.
Sophie plastered a smile on her face for the people she knew and the ones she met. She approached Dave and Shirley and told them how sorry she was.
"I hadn't heard," she apologized. "How's he d
oing?"
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"Good," Shirley said. "He's really a wonderful child. We just have a bigger challenge than many other people do." She smiled serenely, and Sophie knew they would be okay.
Dave seemed bent on raising as much money as possible and thanked Parker for attending. When Sophie realized why, she faded out of Parker's line of vision. It didn't do any good.
"I understand you did a study on me," he murmured in her ear.
Sophie nodded to a passing acquaintance to avoid looking at him. "Mmm. Not a study, really. It wasn't at all scientific."
She looked around the room and spotted a bar. "Excuse me, I'm thirsty. I'm going to get some water."
"Not a study, hmm?" He followed her, and Sophie realized he sounded amused. She stopped, aware this was the most attention he'd paid to her in days.
"Okay, I did some research. At all events you attended, more money was raised per attendee than the ones you didn't. Which is why you are always invited and sometimes actively courted to go to these things."
"I didn't realize I had so much influence."
Sophie whirled and returned to her path to the bar. "Well, you weren't the only one. There were three other patrons who had nearly the same attendance patterns." She reached the bar and smiled at the bartender. "Hi, Tony. Ice water with lemon, please." She set her elbow on the bar. "You aren't the only one who inspires people to give more, but you are an important part of this small circle."
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"Interesting. I'll have a Scotch and water," he told Tony once Sophie had her drink. "Oh, look. There's Chuck. He's the one who told me about the study."
Sophie looked up to see her old employer bearing down on them with an over-wide grin. "Sophie, so good to see you."
He hugged her more exuberantly than he ever had. "I've missed you, friend," he murmured in her ear.
"I'm sorry I never called you back," she told him. "I don't want to come back to MMT, so don't even ask."
He laughed. "I won't. I learned my lesson." He nodded when Parker motioned to a table, and the three sat. "I did want to ask your opinion on something, though." He launched into a description of their latest promotional campaign and the attendant customer service issues. Sophie became so intent with her advice she didn't even realize Parker was gone. She looked at her pearl-banded watch and realized she'd been chatting with Chuck for half an hour.
"I think that covers it," she said, and stood. "I'd like to make my donation and find Parker." The band started just then, an old waltz played at every function she'd ever been to for MMT. She and Chuck jokingly called it "their song"
because they always ended up dancing to it.
Chuck held out his arms. "For old times' sake?"
Sophie couldn't spot Parker in the crowd and felt one dance was the least she could do for her old friend, so she agreed.
Dancing with Chuck was familiar. They'd done this so often it was second nature, but Sophie was distracted. Where had 274
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Parker gone? She found herself continually scanning the crowd.
Finally she spotted him, sipping his drink on the edge of the dance floor. He looked sad, wounded. Had she hurt his feelings by dancing with Chuck first?
She thanked Chuck when the song was over and took off a little faster than was polite. Her heart was tripping along as she moved through the crowd, trying not to step on any skirts or polished shoes. Could Parker be jealous? If so, it wouldn't hurt to fan that flame. Sometimes making someone jealous backfired, but sometimes it made them aware of their feelings. Sophie was willing to take a chance on the latter.
She found Parker near the band and tugged him toward the dance floor. "It's your turn."
He smiled at her, but it still held a tinge of melancholy.
"You looked like you were having fun with Chuck."
"Reminiscing," she said airily, reveling in the feel of him against her again. She was aware of the strength in his fingers around hers. Liked the solid chest in front of her. Felt awash in his scent, so much more than after shave, even if it was her favorite kind of after shave. "We always dance that waltz."
Parker didn't seem to notice what she'd said. He maneuvered them across the floor and Sophie saw Chuck to the side, gazing wistfully at her. When he saw her looking, he turned quickly and engaged the elderly woman next to him in conversation.
"Sophie?" Parker squeezed her hand. "You here?"
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"Of course." She smiled at him, then frowned when his phone buzzed between them.
"Shoot." He stopped dancing, right in front of Chuck, and pulled the phone from his pocket. "Hello?" Then the standard,
"I'm sorry, I've got to take this. Can you dance with her?" He looked at Chuck and tilted his head at Sophie. As he walked away, she heard him say, "Thanks, Mare."
Sophie stared at Parker's retreating back, then at Chuck's eager face. "Wait a minute!" she yelled. Parker turned. She braced her hands on her hips. "I know what you're doing, Parker Cornwall." She whirled on Chuck. "Are you involved in this? Did you arrange this with him?" Back to Parker.
"Outside. Now." She slapped a hand on Parker's chest and pushed him toward the main door. When they were in the deserted lobby she stopped and pressed her finger to his chest.
"I can't believe you'd try to do this to me. Me! I'm not stupid, Parker. I've noticed your habits. And I'm not one of your bimbos to pass off when you get bored with me."
"I'm not passing you off, Sophie."
"The hell you're not." She was so furious she could hardly see him. "You think Chuck has a thing for me, and that I'm susceptible to it. Well, he doesn't, and I'm not. I'm head over heels in love with you, you fool."
Parker closed his eyes. "That's what I was afraid of."
Sophie's anger burned off, leaving her feeling empty and alone. "And you don't want it."
"Remember at the picnic, you told me not to let a let a hole burn in me so big no one can ever fill it back up?"
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Sophie blinked back tears and nodded.
"It's too late."
"You're throwing me away to avoid being hurt."
He shook his head and put his hands on her shoulders as if he couldn't avoid touching her. "I'm letting you go so you don't get hurt. I can't give you what you need. I'm damaged goods, Sophie." He rested his forehead on hers. "You saw what I come from. Dysfunction breeds dysfunction. I know I have issues that I may never resolve. I can't inflict them on you or your family." His voice grew softer. "Or our children."
He swallowed. Sophie could see his Adam's apple bob. Then he whispered, "I love you" in so low a voice she sensed it rather than heard it.
"Then stay with me." She was crying so hard she could barely speak. "Don't pretend to be noble. Don't you know it will hurt more to be without me now than to risk losing me later?"
He shook his head. "It couldn't." That was when she realized he was crying, too. Slow, masculine tears of a pain much more complex than she could understand.
Sophie pulled herself together. Sniffed. Moved away and wiped her cheeks. Then she put her hands on his face and wiped away his tears.
"You're more like your father than you think," she told him.
"I know." He gripped her wrists and kissed her palm, then stepped back. "I'm just like him. I can't do that to you."
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CHAPTER 18
Parker resigned from Rant and Rave the next day. When Stevie and George threatened legal action for breach of contract, he gave them his lawyer's card and said it didn't matter.
He listened to the show for the rest of the week
. Sophie was a trooper, giving the listeners no indication that anything was wrong between them. He couldn't tell if the ratings were suffering, but he was sure some advertising had been lost because he wasn't there to fulfill commitments. He let his lawyer handle the loss of revenue lawsuit threats, too.
Melina's brother had turned out to be a good match.
Parker made arrangements to bring him over from Greece, then went with Melina to the airport. He was gratified by their emotional reunion.
"He was very resentful that I came to America," she'd told Parker one afternoon while they discussed logistics. "He refused to speak with me or answer my letters. When my parents told him I was sick, though, he came through." She'd kissed his cheek. "Thank you not only for saving my life, but for renewing my relationship with my brother."
"Just get healthy," he told her. The surgery was scheduled for next month, and everyone had high hopes for a positive recovery.
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a form of torture. The guy had shortcomings, sure, but he wasn't responsible for the flatness Rant and Rave had developed. The callers were bitchy, Sophie seemed to have no excitement, and advertising was clearly off. The show was floundering, and it was his fault.
One more reason Sophie was better off without him, he thought, and told Mare so.
"How the hell do you figure that?" She motored around him preparing dinner in the kitchen of her apartment. The boys were playing video games in the living room. Parker had barely survived their whining over Sophie's absence.
"I should never have pursued her," he said. "Her original show was fine without me. If I hadn't kept calling, they wouldn't have hired me. And I shouldn't have accepted. I knew if we broke up it would ruin the show."
"She can get another show somewhere else." She shoved a stack of plates and flatware at him. "Set the table."
"But she loved this show. Why didn't I stay away?"
"Will you please shut up?"
He looked up and Mare was glaring at him. Her arms were folded across her chest. "Between you and Dad I've never had more self-pity floating around my kitchen. And with two elementary school boys, that's saying something." She pulled the chicken casserole from the oven and plopped it on a hot mat on the table.
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