Nights With Parker

by Tribue,Alice

  The entire period, apart from the times we spent with my family, felt like time had stood still and we were in our own little bubble. Away from everything and everyone, we could just be … free. Now, the hourglass is back in motion, and the thought of our time running out is fucking suffocating. I don’t know how to handle this because I’ve never been here before. I’ve never cared about a woman before, not like this. Given my track record, it would stand to reason that the one time I actually develop feelings for another soul, it would come with an expiration date.

  Things between us are too new, too fragile, for me to suggest that she uproot for me, travel to London with me, and then come home to New York with me. She wouldn’t do it anyway, and I can’t stay in Savannah. My work takes me away constantly, and this was never meant to be a permanent residency.

  Riley’s eyes flutter open, and her mouth parts slightly as she takes a breath. Beautiful.

  “How long was I asleep?” Her groggy voice makes me smile; it reminds me of how she came for me this morning, half-asleep and breathy. I reach over, sweeping the hair off her face, and smile as she presses her cheek into the palm of my hand.

  “Not too long. We’ll be landing soon.”

  She gives a slight nod, and I take my hand away from her face, but she grabs it. She gives it a tug, signaling me to come closer. I comply, knowing what she wants. She asking for a kiss, something that I’ve learned she loves to do. She lifts her head slightly to meet mine and her mouth opens so I can slip my tongue inside. She runs her fingers through my hair, and I’m ready to strip her bare and initiate her into the mile high club.

  The sound of someone clearing her throat makes me groan in frustration. I break the kiss, pull away from a flushed Riley, and look up to find the flight attendant hovering over us.

  “I apologize, Mr. Parker, but we’ll be landing soon, and you’ll need to fasten your seat belts.”

  “Thank you,” I bite out, trying to practice an exercise in patience. She nods and walks away, leaving Riley and me alone again.

  “That was a mortifying.” She brings her chair to the upright position and fastens her seat belt.

  “It wasn’t mortifying. It’s normal. People kiss all the time. I’m thinking she’s probably used to seeing that and much more.”

  “I suppose.” She leans into me, resting her head on my chest, and I have no choice but to put my arm around her. I’ve never been an affectionate kind of man, but for some reason, she seems to need that from me, so I do my best to give it to her. Maybe she needs to be reassured about the turn this has taken. I run my fingers through her hair, and as she lets out a happy sigh, I think to myself that perhaps I could get used to this.

  “Have you heard from your daddy?” she questions timidly. I don’t like the thought of her being afraid to ask me something, afraid of how I might respond, but I haven’t actually been an open book. I haven’t made this easy on her. Not at all.

  “Yes. He told me that he knows I’m the one who helped Mom leave him. I’m okay with taking the fall for it because Jacob isn’t used to his wrath. He said I could keep my job because it would look bad if he fired me, but effective immediately, he’s disinheriting me.”

  “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I have my own money, an inheritance my grandparents left me, and I make good money doing this. I’m not going to be broke.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the money. I was talking about how you felt about what happened with your daddy.”

  Of course, she didn’t mean the money. Money isn’t important to her, not the way it is to most of the people I know. To her, money is a necessity to live and eat. She doesn’t care about expensive jewelry, designer labels, and trips to foreign places.

  “I’m used to it.”

  “Do you think your mama will go back to him?”

  “God, I hope not, but she’s never left him before, so I’m thinking that’s a good sign.”

  “You’re a good son.”

  “Depends on who you ask.”

  She laughs and burrows in deeper as if she can’t get close enough. Strangely, I like it.

  “It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact.”

  She gets no response from me, and she’s okay with that. There’s nothing for me to say anyway. Here she is in my arms, actually convinced that I’m a good person after what I did to her—what I’m still doing to her. I’m just setting her up for a relationship that’s doomed from the start. I should let her go and explain that I’m not a good man. That I took advantage of her situation and her innocence because I’m selfish, and selfishness is a dominant trait in the Parker family. I’m proving it by staying with her even though I know better. I can’t let her go, though—not now, not yet.

  ***

  “Mr. Parker?” I look up to see Misty standing there, looking inept as usual.

  “Yes, Misty?”

  She clears her throat and proceeds to slide a paper onto my desk.

  “This invoice for carpeting needs to be signed?”

  “Have they finished installing the carpeting?”

  “They say they’ll be done tomorrow,” she says in her ditziest tone. She’d be the perfect choice to star in a remake of Clueless. The only thing missing from her look are thigh-highs and bubblegum.

  “Then you tell them it will get signed tomorrow after I inspect their work.”

  “Yes, sir,” she says, looking like I’ve just murdered her family pet. I sigh because I don’t understand why she’s still standing here staring at me. Perhaps, she’s trying to call up the few remaining brain cells she has left.

  “Is there something else you need?”

  “Um, Colleen Sims is here to see you.”

  Riley’s mother. I lean back in my chair wondering what she could possibly want.

  “Did she say why she’s here?”

  “No, sir.”

  Of course not. Why would she know? It’s not like it’s her fucking job to find out why people want to see me. On days like these, I kick myself for not having her replaced months ago.

  “Let her in.” My response is curt, and she can tell I’m annoyed as she quickly exits my office.

  In the two months since Riley and I have started seeing each other, things have settled into a somewhat normal routine. I’ve never done normal before, but it’s not terrible. Not with her, anyway. With her, it’s actually enjoyable. I meet her for dinner after I get out of work on the nights she’s not working, and the nights when she waitresses, I go to the restaurant for dinner. She thinks I’m there just to see her, and she’s partially right. I’m also keeping my eye on her and making sure the drunk assholes who babysit the bar keep their hands off her. The hostess knows by now that she should seat me in Riley’s section, and if there’s no open tables, she still manages to end up the one who takes care of me.

  Afterward, we end up back at my hotel, still the Hyatt, partially because I can’t be bothered to move but mostly because neither one of us wanted her mother to find out about our relationship. An inevitable occurrence since she mans the front desk. The uncomfortable questions that would arise are ones that neither one of us wants to answer, but now, she’s here, walking into my office, and I hope it’s not because she somehow found out about Riley and me.

  “Mrs. Sims.”

  “Mr. Parker, I’m sorry to bother you.” She looks worried, unsure of herself, uncertain if she should be here maybe. She’s not here because of Riley and me; something else is going on.

  “No bother, have a seat,” I tell her, lifting my hand in the direction of the chair in front of me. “What can I do for you?”

  “I … I don’t want to betray someone’s confidence, but as a manager, I really think you should be aware of a situation in the hotel.”

  “All right,” I say, with a nod, trying to assure her that I’d like to hear whatever she has to tell me. She seems uneasy, maybe even a little bit scared.

  “There’s a girl on our new housekeeping staff who’
s barely nineteen years old.”

  “Okay.”

  “She’s a good worker. She needs the job, and she’s working to pay her way through school. She actually reminds me of my own daughter.”

  “Is she in some sort of trouble?” I have to interrupt her when she brings Riley up. It seems wrong of me to sit here and pretend that I don’t know her daughter, that I’m not half in love with her fucking daughter. Jesus, this whole situation is absolutely ridiculous; blackmailing a woman into bed with me only to end up complicating things by falling for her later.

  “Kind of but …”

  I try to reassure her. “I’ll help her if I can; you have to trust me on this one.”

  “One of the hotel managers is sexually harassing her.” She spits the words out like they’re poison, and they need to be expelled. I’m stunned. Fucking stunned that this is happening in my hotel. My face starts to flush with anger at what she’s just told me. I would never stand for a manager harassing an employee under any circumstances. I’m a fucking hypocrite, I know. I did something similar to Riley, but that situation was different, and I carry that guilt with me daily. And after getting my mother out of a domestic violence situation, the last thing I want to hear is that someone is being harassed in this hotel.

  “As a manager, I have no problem handling the situation, but I felt that since the subject matter is so sensitive, I should bring it to your attention as well.”

  “I prefer to know what’s going on here, I appreciate you bringing it to my attention.”

  “This girl, she needs this job …”

  “I can assure you that her job is safe here. I need you to write down the names of the people involved for me,” I tell her, handing over a notepad. She hesitates for a moment, searching my face for reassurances, before finally writing down the names and handing the pad back to me.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Hopefully, the right thing,” I tell her because that’s all I can say. I don’t want to involve her any more than she already is. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I promise you that you did the right thing.”

  She stands and opens her mouth to say something, but no words come. She looks at me for a moment as if she’s seen a ghost. Something’s off with her, but I don’t know what. Maybe she wanted to tell me something else.

  “Was there something else you wanted to tell me?” I probe, but she simply shakes her head.

  “No. That was it. Thank you for your time,” she returns, and before I can say another word or ask her if she’s okay, she turns and walks out of my office, leaving me with an odd sense of concern. I replay the conversation in my head, wondering if I said something that might have offended or upset her, but I can’t think of anything.

  My phone signals that a text has come through, and when I pick it up, I see that it’s from Riley. Immediately, I smile at the sight of her name on the screen.

  Riley: I took the night off. I miss you.

  Me: I miss you too. What would you like to do on your night off?

  Riley: Order room service and …

  I smile at the insinuation because my innocent little virgin has turned into an insatiable sex kitten. Her appetite is almost as big as mine is—almost. I think of how hard she came for me just last night as I type out a response.

  Me: And what?

  Riley: You know what.

  Me: All right baby. I’ll make you tell me tonight. Meet you around five.

  Riley: Five ☺

  Me: Bring snacks.

  I type out the last message, referring to the desserts she often bakes and brings me. It started out with a carrot cake as a thank-you for fixing her car. I had one piece and asked her where she bought it, so I could go there and buy more. I was impressed when she told me that she’d made it herself; it was better than anything I’d ever tasted in New York, hands down. Every few days, she brings me another one of her creations to try. I’m convinced that she’s missed her calling. She should have a chain of bakeries throughout the South by now, but when I brought it up to her, she just brushed it off and changed the subject.

  Putting my phone down, I try to focus on getting through the rest of this day. I spend the next few hours handling the situation between the young girl and the manager who will never work for a hotel chain again if I have anything to do with it. I’m so caught up with work that I forget all about the strange behavior from Riley’s mother before she left my office.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  RILEY

  I’m just about ready to leave the house to go meet Oliver when I hear the front door open.

  “Hey, Mama,” I call, wishing I’d left ten minutes ago. It’s a lot easier leaving to meet Oliver when she’s not home. When she doesn’t see that I’m overdressed, and I could just send her a text later to let her know I’m spending the night at a friend’s house. Not that she buys that excuse day in and day out, but at least, she’s cool enough not to say anything. I mean I’m an adult, but technically, I still live in her house.

  “Where are you off to?” she asks, coming into the kitchen and dropping her bag on the counter. She doesn’t greet me in her normal happy tone. Instead, she appears to be a little agitated.

  “Just going out with some friends. Is everything all right?”

  She purses her lips the way she used to at my father when he’d tell her something she didn’t want to hear. Instantly, I go on alert, and I can feel the sudden tension in the room go from nonexistent to stifling.

  “Would one of those friends be Oliver Parker? My boss.”

  She narrows her eyes as at me, and it’s as if though the wind has been knocked out of me. I’m stunned speechless, all of the color drains from my face, and the only thing I can do is stare at her in confusion and disbelief.

  “What—” I start, but she interrupts me immediately.

  “Don’t you dare open your mouth to lie to me, Riley,” she warns, which only confirms that the shit has absolutely hit the fan. This is going bad real fast. “Are you going to meet him? Is that why you’re never home anymore?”

  What can I do? I can’t stand here and lie to her; that’s not who I am. I mean technically I’ve been lying to her for months, omitting the truth, but this is different. She’s flat out asking me, and I can’t lie. Oliver and I have been careful, so if she’s bringing it up at all, I’m certain that she has proof.

  “Yes,” I confirm with a nod. “He’s the reason.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “He came into the restaurant once, and I was his waitress.”

  “How do you go from that to where you are now?”

  “He was new in town and asked me for a tour of Savannah.”

  “Are you the reason I got my job?” she asks, practically seething.

  “Mama.”

  “Answer me.”

  “I didn’t know he was the one who’d fired you until you told me his name that morning. I wanted to help, so I went to his hotel and asked him to give you your job back. He said he couldn’t because he’d already hired a cleaning staff, but he would consider you for a different position.”

  I know I cleaned up the real version of what happened, but I can never tell her how he blackmailed me. She would lose her mind and confront Oliver. That’s the last thing I want. At least, this way I still have some hope of smoothing things over.

  “All these months, you’ve been lying to me.”

  “I knew if I’d told you I put in a good word for you, you wouldn’t take the job, Mama, and you needed that job.”

  “You’re damn right I wouldn’t have taken the job. I don’t take charity.”

  “It’s not charity,” I say, thinking if she only knew the price I really paid for her to get that job. “Oliver did me a favor.”

  “By giving me a job that was double the salary I was making?”

  “I didn’t know what he was going to pay you, just that it would be more.”

  “You know I have to quit now, r
ight?”

  “What? You can’t. You can’t do that?”

  “Why not.”

  “Because you’d leave him in the position of not having someone to cover you, and he thinks you’re doing a great job. He told me that you turned out to be the best choice for that job.”

  I know I’m laying it on thick, but I can’t let her quit her job because of me. Her hands are crossed over her chest, and she’s staring at me, no longer in complete fury, so I think I’m making some headway.

  “Besides, Mama, this thing with him and me … it’s not going to last,” I tell her and when I do, I look away so she won’t see the emotion in my face. It’s a true statement, I know it … I’ve always known it. I’ve just avoided admitting it because it hurts too badly.

  “Why won’t it last, Riley?” she questions, moving so that she’s in my line of sight again.

  “Oliver’s from New York, and as soon as the renovations on the hotel are complete, he’ll be leaving.”

  “And this hurts you because you’ve fallen in love with him,” she deduces accurately. I don’t say anything because I don’t have to. The tears that have now begun to fall are confirmation enough. “Oh Riley, does he know?”

  “No. What’s the point? He’s leaving, and he doesn’t love me.”

  “You’re wrong,” she says, cupping my chin in one hand and wiping my tears with the other. “He absolutely loves you.”

  “What? Why would you say that? How did you even know about us to begin with?”

  “I went to see him today. I had an issue arise I needed to let him know about.”

  “And he told you about us? He wouldn’t do that.”

  “No, he wouldn’t. He was very professional.”

  “Then how?”

  “Because he keeps a picture of you in his office, Riley. One that’s framed all pretty and on his desk. He didn’t even think to hide it when he knew I was there.”

  “He has a picture of me?”