by Elle Linder
While Marie danced with the persistent Latino, she watched Mr. Blue-eyes with curiosity. She didn’t understand why women were lining up to take pictures with him.
“Well, well, well…joining us are you?” Tessa teased. “After all the complaining, now you’re acting like a pro.”
“Oh stop. I forgot how much I like to dance.” Marie smiled.
“Only one dance with the hottie?” Ann asked with a raise of her brow. “Because he’s not…Latino?”
“No. The other guy asked. I said ‘sure.’ Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”
“Not if you like the hottie better,” Ann said.
“That’s a no-brainer, she has to like Parker Nichols better.” Brooke snorted.
“Who’s Parker Nichols?” Marie asked.
“The hottie you were dancing with just now. The guy with all the moves,” Ann said.
“That tells me nothing,” Marie said.
“Hi ladies,” a waitress interrupted. “The gentleman over there ordered these drinks for your table.” She grinned, tilting her head toward Parker’s table.
“Well, how nice.” Ann smiled and gave a little wave to Parker. Marie looked over, and his gaze was on her. She pulled back.
“Ann, I think it’s time we leave,” Marie suggested.
“I don’t think so. He’s coming over here.” She raised her eyebrows with a smirk on her face.
“Yay!” Brooke cheered, bouncing in her seat.
“Hi ladies,” Parker said. “Can I join you?”
“Please do,” Ann answered for the table. Brooke stared, star-struck. He moved to sit next to Marie, and Tessa pulled her arm, making her scoot over.
“Thank you for the drinks,” Tessa said.
“It’s my pleasure.” He smiled, turning his attention to Marie. “I’m Parker Nichols,” he said putting his hand out to her. Marie stared at him, then at his hand. Tessa kicked her foot under the table, waking her from her trance.
“Nice to meet you,” Marie said as she shook his hand. His eyes were locked on her when the two women from the bathroom walked up to Parker. They swooned like lovesick groupies at a U2 concert. Marie sunk into her seat, trapped in the booth.
In unison, they gushed over him. “Mr. Nichols, it would make our lifetime if you’d take a selfie with us. Pleeease!” Their tacky script appeared rehearsed.
Marie kept her eyes on her empty margarita glass. Embarrassment filled her, but what did she care who this Parker Nichols took pictures with or who he was? He was nobody to her, yet it annoyed her to see him smile while making the gushing duo’s “lifetime.” She rolled her eyes, then shot an aggravated look at Ann. “Let’s go,” she mouthed. Ann shook her head no.
The Latin man approached the table before Marie could have choice words with Ann, and she was relieved to see him. “Would you like to dance?” he asked her, and she nodded. Two seconds later she was out of the booth, clutch in hand.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she whispered to Ann. “I’ll call Uber for a ride.” Ann’s mouth fell open.
Parker watched his evasive dance partner leave, burned by her swift exit. When his fans finally left, he rejoined the awestruck ladies, but the one person he hoped to talk to was on the dance floor without him…again.
“So, your friend,” he began, “what’s her name? What can you tell me about her?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Ann answered. He furrowed his brow. “If we gave you any information about her, she would lose her trust in us. Sorry.”
“Seriously? Can’t you at least tell me her name?”
“Nope, Ann’s right,” Tessa agreed. “She didn’t give you her name when you introduced yourself, so we can’t either.”
Parker took a deep breath, “O-kay. I’ll stay here and wait for her.” He turned his attention back to the dance floor while the women took great pleasure in gawking at him.
Marie remained on the dance floor for a second dance with the Latino, who had introduced himself as Juan. The longer Parker sat in her spot, the more frustrated she became. He couldn’t be waiting for her, could he? It unnerved her every time their eyes connected, and butterflies fluttered about in her stomach. The flummoxed look on Parker’s face was gratifying for Marie. Now, she wasn’t the only person irritated. But she wondered why he was still there.
When the song ended, Juan asked her to join him for a drink. Without giving it a second thought, she accepted. The bright lights and hot, sweaty dancers around her sucked her dry, leaving her parched. She had no other choice but to accept Juan’s offer. When she glanced over at her table, it amused her to see Parker’s head drop in defeat when she took a seat with Juan.
“Ladies, it’s been enjoyable,” Parker said, forcing a smile. “I can see your friend won’t be returning while I’m here, so I’ll leave. I hope I didn’t ruin your evening. I only wanted to get to know her.”
“Mr. Nichols,” Ann started.
“Call me Parker,” he interrupted.
“Parker…she’s complicated.”
“Clearly.” He looked over at her.
“Your instincts are spot on with her. She’s terrific,” Ann assured him.
“The very best,” Tessa added, nodding.
“But she’s screwed up,” Brooke blurted. Ann and Tessa shot her a stern look. “Sorry,” she mouthed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He stared at Brooke.
“She’s not screwed up,” Ann corrected. “That’s all I can tell you.”
“Which is nothing.” He winked. “Can you tell me this: is she a druggy, alcoholic, a gambler in debt to the mob, psychotic…married?” All their eyes turned to him. “She’s married?”
“No, divorced,” Brooke blurted again. The stern looks from Ann and Tessa were back. “Sorry, you know I have a big mouth.”
“I can do divorced. Unless her ex is psychotic?” Parker asked.
“Parker, the bottom line is she’s a private person. I assume you figured that out during this conversation.” He nodded. “And you’re a celebrity. Your fans took her picture out on the dance floor. If those photos pop up everywhere she’s gonna come unglued,” Ann warned.
“She didn’t seem that bothered by it,” he said.
“That’s because she doesn’t have a clue who you are. Once she finds out, she’ll shoot you down. She’s a ‘no drama’ kind of person.” Tessa shrugged.
“I like that. So, you’re telling me to walk away?” They all nodded. He looked over at her and her eyes connected with his, turning his stomach inside out. “Can you give her my business card?” He handed it to Ann.
“Sure. I’ll put in a good word for you tonight when I drive her back to Sherman Oaks. And if that doesn’t go well, I’ll call her Monday while she’s working on copyrights and trademarks.” She winked.
Parker paused, she had just told him the city her friend lives in and what she does for a living. He stared at Ann for a few beats. “She’s a lawyer?”
Ann shook her head no. “She works for two lawyers.”
“Mhmm.”
“Malcolm-Bower,” Brooke blurted out. She covered her mouth, appearing horrified by her indiscretion.
Tessa and Ann laughed.
“I’m glad you have a big mouth.” Parker laughed. “I’ll be seeing you ladies around,” he said with certainty as he left the table.
Chapter 5
A New Mom
Marie was in a trance, lacking the motivation to work. It had been a year since she had last visited the dark abyss; she’d hoped it was her last time. Lost in her self-loathing thoughts, not even her cell phone buzzing fazed her. Seconds later came another buzz...and another.
The last three days had been awful. Friday night at the Latin club had been fun…and exciting. The music, the dancing, her girlfriends, the incredibly handsome man vying for her attention—it had been intoxicating. It had awakened her from her slumber. Life appeared to be taking a positive turn. Then Sunday night happened. Her world imploded, sending her
brief joy into a tailspin of despair.
“He hates me. No, he wants to destroy me. But why? What did I do to deserve this?” Her tears flowed down her face, dotting the keyboard. It was hard to believe she had any left. Since Craig dropped Jackson off at home Sunday evening, she’d cried an ocean’s worth.
The knock at her door jolted her. Wiping her face, she exhaled. “Yes?”
The door crept open; it was Natalie, the office receptionist. Instead of calling from her desk, she checked on her in person. Over the last two days, Marie had secluded herself, much like she had done during her divorce. “Marie, Ann’s on line two.”
“Can you please take a message? Tell her I’m in a meeting or something. I’ll call her later.” Marie remained slumped over her desk.
Natalie studied her. “Okay. She said you’re not answering her texts,” she said.
“I saw them. Thanks,” Marie mumbled.
After Natalie closed the door, Marie returned to the dark, depressing hole that was her life. Sunday had been a pleasant day until Jackson returned from Craig’s, then it turned into the worst day ever—worse than the day Craig had announced his affair and that he was moving out.
Marie struggled to hold her tears back. The words had cut like a knife to her heart, ripping it to shreds. “I’m getting a new mom.”
New mom hung in the air, sucking the life out of her. A declaration no mother ever wanted to hear from her child. Jackson couldn’t have known the magnitude of his excited announcement. New mom. Like she was disposable. Replaceable. A robot without feelings. Not a second thought was given, trading old mom for a new mom. Her chest tightened, her sobs fighting hard to be free. No work was getting done today. She collected her things and walked out of her office, stopping at Natalie’s desk with a vacant expression.
“I’m leaving for the day. Tell the bosses to call me if they need anything.”
“Okay…I hope you feel better,” Natalie replied in a warm, sympathetic tone as Marie walked out the large, smoked-glass door.
When she opened her front door, the quiet stillness inside sent an icy chill down her spine. Jackson wouldn’t be home for several hours. She was alone—just her and her small, drab townhouse. It was nothing like the home she had lived in for fifteen years while married to Craig. Her lip quivered, remembering the beautiful 3500 square-foot custom-built home. It had top-of-the-line everything and only a sought-after designer would do for Craig. He wouldn’t settle for anything less. Now, she lived in a 1200 square-foot townhouse with low-grade, subpar everything. A mishmash of furnishings bought at a local consignment store filled the small space.
They had sold the house and divided the money, along with all their assets, during the divorce. Marie had taken her portion of the money and put it toward a down payment on the townhouse. The comfortable life she had once lived was now a painful memory. Her salary at work paid the bills with a little extra leftover, but gone were the trips to Hawaii and Mexico. She couldn’t even afford one day at Disneyland.
Craig had been ruthless throughout the entire divorce. He told her she could have full custody of Jackson if she gave up spousal maintenance. It was a crushing blow. Still, she didn’t think twice accepting his offer on the spot. She agreed to all his demands to get the divorce over with as fast as possible. Ann had reminded her repeatedly that it was only money. Getting out from under Craig’s thumb and verbal abuse was vital to her emotional well-being. Ann had been right. After Marie had signed the divorce papers, she was free.
Free from a physical standpoint, anyway. Marie’s mental state was a life sentence in prison. She had failed, and she rehashed her failures each week. Although her marriage was empty and loveless, she had tried to make the most of it. She believed her love could sustain them. And it did for a while, as she believed in the phrase, “all you need is love.” She had created a warm, loving home for her kids, and did her best to make Craig happy. Her countless efforts didn’t matter because nothing pleased Craig. Dinner should be made from scratch and was never good enough; the house needed to be “white glove” clean; she needed to be thinner, and she needed to be more grateful for the privilege of being on the receiving end of his massive, oversized cock.
Not a day went by that Craig didn’t brag about his buddies’ wives—how Charlie was a lucky son-of-a-bitch because his wife blows him whenever he wants. Or how Tim’s woman had the body of a Greek goddess with perfectly sculpted tits. “Why don’t you give blow jobs like Charlie’s wife?” he’d ask. His was relentless in hounding Marie about getting work done on her boobs daily. And there was Craig’s favorite statement: “I got a reject in the spicy Latina department. What a fucking disappointment.” She had heard it all and believed every word.
Marie poured a glass of wine and sat down on the barstool. It was one o’clock, and if she didn’t respond to Ann’s text, she might show up at work; or worse yet, at her house. So, she dug her cell phone out of her bag. There were three unread messages.
Ann: Happy Hump day!
Ann: Are you alive???
Ann: Did you call Parker???!!!
“Ugh, why on earth would she think I’d call Parker? It’s obvious she’s out of her mind.” She typed out a reply.
Marie: I’m alive. It’s been a busy day. TTYL
Ann: Something is wrong with you, what is it???
Marie: Nothing, I’m busy.
Ann: I don’t believe you, I’ll be over after work!
“Well crap, I don’t want her coming over.” Now what was she supposed to do? Jackson would be home in two hours, and Ann would be over sometime after that. “This day keeps getting worse,” she mumbled. She decided to try lying.
Marie: No, I won’t be home. Call me later tonight.
After she sent the text, she was over it. Leaving the phone on the counter, she grabbed her glass and went up to her bathroom. A long soak in the bathtub was what she needed to relax, to regroup; she would get lost in the wine, along with her Latin tunes. It was the perfect time to try out the bath bomb Ann had given her. She dropped it in the steaming water and watched it fizz.
The smell of vanilla and cherry filled the room as she undressed. “Mmm.” She stepped into the tub and sank down in the soothing, spa-like water. Her eyes closed, and Parker’s face was there. They burst open in shock. In a frenzy, she blinked to erase him.
Just no. He’s a celebrity. A gringo. There will be drama. But damn, he’s handsome.
She remembered dancing with him and how his rhythm shocked her. The fact that he could Latin dance scored big with her. But it was the intense gaze of his slate-blue eyes on her that stirred latent desires within. He had made her feel wanted and sexy...all with a look.
Any possibility with him had ended when she found out he was a celebrity—a celebrity who acted like he was interested in her…her. Impossible.
All she could do was laugh when Ann gave her his business card as if that would help his case. It was comical. Call a man? Never, let alone a celebrity. He’s only after one thing…a one-night stand. The thought of having sex with him filled her stomach with butterflies again. It had been a long time since flutters or tingles coursed through her body. Experiencing the sensations again amazed her; she had forgotten how good they felt. But none of that mattered. Parker Nichols was all wrong for her.
Her eyes closed once again as her hands moved over her breasts. She cringed. There was no way she could be with a man, not with her body. In particular, not with a sexy celebrity who could have his pick of perfect women. Her hands continued down to her stomach. It was flat, but she knew where every stretch mark was.
Marie inhaled the vanilla and cherry scent. It brought a mischievous smile to her face. “Mmm… Well, I may not be with him for a dozen different reasons, but that doesn’t mean I can’t imagine being with him. I so need this…gringo, celebrity be damned.” Her hand moved further down as Parker re-entered her mind, and she allowed herself to get lost in the moment.
Parker walked through the smoked-glass
door of the law office of Malcolm-Bower & Associates. It was obvious Natalie recognized him by the wide grin on her face.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Nichols. How may I help you?”
“Hi,” he greeted. “I’m looking for a woman who…um…specializes in copyrights.” The questioning expression on Natalie’s face made him feel like a fool. But he didn’t care; he had to find her.
“None of our lawyers are women, only a few paralegals. I could schedule an appointment with Mr. Malcolm or Mr. Bower?”
“No, I don’t need an appointment. I’m looking for the woman.” Natalie stared at him, perplexed while chewing on the end of her pen. Parker could hear himself sounding like an idiot. He took a deep breath and continued. “I’m sure this seems odd. But, I’m just looking for a woman I danced with Friday night and I didn’t get her name. I heard she works here. Can you help me?”
Before Natalie could respond, the phone rang. “Um, just a moment, Mr. Nichols.” He nodded. “Malcolm-Bower and Associates, how may I help you?” she answered. “Hi, Ann. Sorry, Marie left a while ago. She seemed upset or maybe sick.” She paused. “Well, you know how private she is, so she didn’t give me any details.”
Parker’s ears perked up when he heard how private this Marie person was. So, he tuned in with interest to the one-sided conversation about...Marie. While eavesdropping, he looked around the waiting area of the law office. Black leather contemporary chairs with steel arms were in front of the floor to ceiling windows. White walls bounced the natural light off the white marble floors. On the walls hung large black and white photographs that showcased epic waves and surfers. It was modern decor of the finest quality—simple and understated.
“I assume she’ll be in tomorrow.” Natalie paused. “Not sure. I think she went home. She hasn’t been herself the last few days.” Her voice lowered. “I think it’s her ex.” Then there was silence. “Will do. Have a good day, Ann.” Natalie hung the receiver up and turned her attention back to Parker.
