Except, when he opened his mouth, the entire story spilled out—from what happened with Chuck after the last time they saw Ginny, to the congratulatory note from Fiona earlier.
Ginny studied him for a moment when he finished, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. She sighed and leaned back. “Doesn’t sound like you need my help.”
Because he had a handle on things. “I need to get my head on straight, and then I’ll fuck the hell out of you.”
“Not what I mean. And no. We’re done with that.”
He raised his brows. “You’re cutting me off?”
“Like an infected limb. Pardon the analogy.” She smirked. “But you don’t need me to tell you what you’re thinking. You already know what and who you want.”
He did. “But that’s not an option.”
“It’s never stopped you before.” She glanced at the clock behind him. She’d make a perfect shrink one day. “I’m sorry, but I need to get to work. You gonna be okay?”
He nodded. “Thanks for listening to the word vomit.”
“Anytime. I’m going to use your bathroom. Feel free to keep brooding when I’m gone.”
He laughed and shook his head. There wasn’t a solution on the table, but he couldn’t keep pretending what happened was meaningless. Or that it was going to go away. He had two choices—fix things with Fiona, or push through this unreasonable attachment.
Neither was happening anytime soon.
Chapter Thirty
Fiona settled into Nick’s guest room more easily than she should have, but she didn’t realize it until several days later. She hadn’t left the house since she arrived. Working from home was easy; there were no distractions here. The nightly phone calls from Parker hurt, but they also made her smile.
It was Monday, Week Four of the competition. This was the only way she kept track of time now—by the number of days until he had his next layover. Until he knew if he was going on to the next round. Which he would be, she didn’t doubt that.
The sun was settling lower in the sky, and she logged off the remote work machines for the day. Nick had left the office a while ago, according to his messenger note, asking if she wanted him to pick up dinner.
His knock on her door drew her attention. Two plastic bags hung from his arm, and the scents of mango and curry wafted toward her, making her mouth water. “Dinner,” he said.
“Thank you.” She pushed back from her desk and stepped toward him, but he shook his head and moved back a few feet.
“Nope. You hear me out first.”
“Before I can eat? All right, boss.”
Nick grinned. “That’s better. So we have a meeting with Rinslet Media tomorrow.”
“We? You and the mouse in your pocket?”
“You and I. They want to discuss our app, and I need you there with me.”
She shook her head, before her brain finished processing why. She wasn’t ready to leave the house. It was pleasant here. “You’re the Sales and Scope guy. I’m just a developer. You don’t need me there.”
“We’re meeting with their CTO. I do need you there.” A hard edge lined his voice, catching her off-guard. “You can’t lock yourself away forever, Red. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine. I just need a little time. But do this meeting tomorrow. Tell me how it goes, and if they need specs, I’ll write them up for you.”
Nick sighed and scrubbed his face. “Fine.” He extended his arm, to hand her the two bags. “First one is food. Second one is mail.”
“You’re the best brother ever.” She gave him a quick hug, then took the delivery from him. She settled back at the desk, and he left. Despite her stomach’s growls for food, the mail had her curious. The second bag held two packages.
She pulled out two padded envelopes, one much thicker than the second but lighter. The first one had her name and Nick’s address, scrawled in Parker’s familiar handwriting. A fist clenched around her heart, but she ignored the pain.
She tore the flap open and emptied out the contents. A magnet from Baltimore, a spoon from Providence, and a handwritten note on hotel stationary.
You promised I could keep my souvenirs safe with you, for when I visit. There was a hand-drawn heart at the bottom of the letter. She traced the line, doubt and confusion bubbling inside. Was this really it? She’d relegated herself to seeing the man she loved once a week if she was lucky, so she could stay in a city she knew by heart and let him see the world?
No. So they could both be responsible and do what they dreamed of. She didn’t question for an instant that she enjoyed her job.
But she missed life with Parker.
She couldn’t think about that without answers. She turned her attention to the other envelope instead. Her name and the office address were printed on the front, in neat, block letters. There was no return mailing information.
Odd. She tore into the bubble-wrap padding. The familiar scent hit her first—Wyatt’s cologne—and she dropped the package. A purple, fuzzy foot poked out. She lifted the corner of the envelope, and let the bear slide out the rest of the way, along with a note. It was a postcard from Atlanta, with more block lettering on the back.
Red,
I think you need this more than I do.
Wyatt
A sob tore from her throat, and she threw the bear across the room. It hit the wall with an unsatisfactory poof and slid to the ground. She rubbed her eyes, but it didn’t stop the tears from spilling out.
Fucking asshole. It was a gift. He wasn’t allowed to send it back.
Vision blurring, she looked at the things from Parker, laid out on the desk. They made her cry harder.
She didn’t know what to do. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on them. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, and her nose was a snotty mess. She didn’t care about that.
She cared about the guy on the other side of the country, who sent her silly trinkets and got on Facetime with her every night. She cared about the company she’d built from the ground up with her brother. She definitely didn’t care about the jerk who had the nerve to return the gift she bought him.
Yeah, because that was what made Wyatt a jerk.
She rocked and cried until she was spent and her eyes were dry and her stomach ached. It left an odd kind of clarity in its place.
The one thing she’d liked about Wyatt above all else, was that he seemed like a no-regrets kind of guy. He made his decisions, and he lived with them.
If she couldn’t have her cake and eat it too, she wasn’t going to wallow over getting half the good stuff. She forced herself to wander into the guest bathroom. The face that stared back at her in the mirror was a wreck. Blotchy cheeks. Runny nose. Red-rimmed eyes.
But she could fix that. Wallowing wasn’t doing her any good. She ran the water until it was cold, and cleaned her face, letting the icy shock drive more sense into her.
She scrubbed her skin dry and wandered into the apartment to find Nick. He was on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table, watching a Fortnite Battle Royale tournament. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help her smile. “You’re such a dork.”
He looked up with a grin. “I learned it from watching you. I heard you just now. How are you?”
“A mess. But better than I was.” She summoned her resolve. Fortunately, this next bit was easy. “I’ll go with you tomorrow, if I’m still invited.”
Nick gave a single clap. “Absolutely. This is going to be awesome.”
It would be. Not the adjusting, but she’d find a way to make everything work. One step at a time, backpedaling when she needed, but not getting stuck in the mire again.
FIONA AND NICK SAT in the Rinslet lobby. An entire wall was covered with TVs. The outer row played clips from Rinslet’s games, and the inside screens were snippets of YouTube videos from the contest. The clips of Ms. Passion made Fiona grit her teeth, but those with Parker were the perfect way to forget Ms. Sex-toy-vlogger-with-the-big-tits.
“Just Nick. And this my sister, business partner, and genius coder, Fiona.” Nick shook the man’s hand.
TRON turned to her with a smile that probably disarmed the right women. “You’re the brains, then. Pleasure to meet you.” His grip was warm and firm. “Scott McAllister.”
She knew that name. Everyone knew that name. He was one of the co-founders of the company. Supposedly built their graphics engine from scratch, back in the day. She tried to hide her shock. “Yeah. Hi. Right. Pleasure. Definitely.” Now who was the dork?
Scott chuckled and nodded toward a set of doors. “Thanks for making time for me. I’ve got a conference room set up for us, so we can talk.”
Fiona and Nick followed him into a room with an oval table in the middle and several chairs around it. Standard conference room. A counter lined the back wall, and a coffee pot, cups, and donuts sat next to it. “Help yourselves.” Scott gestured.
“Are you expecting someone else?” Fiona asked. They didn’t roll out this kind of red carpet for two people, did they? She picked a chair and sat.
Scott gave her a funny look. “Nope. Just you.”
Nick didn’t seem fazed by the situation. He made himself a cup of coffee and took the seat next to Fiona. “What can we do for you?” he asked.
“That’s simple. Or rather, I hope it is.” Scott grabbed a remote off the table and strolled to the front of the room as he turned on screen on the wall. “I’ll lay out the basics, and if you don’t laugh me out of the room, we’ll talk details.”
A few pieces clicked in Fiona’s head. Nick had said something about an investment opportunity. Wow, she was dim. Rinslet wanted to invest in them? But the app was for scheduling local deliveries. That was who their contracts were with. It didn’t have anything to do with video games or multimedia.
“We like what you did with the contracts part of your application,” Scott said. “And the way this contest is going, we’re going to need something similar to protect our asses. Especially if we run the thing again next year. Bottom line is we’re willing to put up the capital you need, to grow you to the point where it’s useful to us.”
“No you’re not.” The words slipped out of Fiona’s mouth before she could consider them, and heat flooded her cheeks.
Scott raised his brows. “I’m going to say that doesn’t count as laughing me out of the room. Yes, we are.”
“I’m intrigued,” Nick said. “Let’s talk details.”
And that was why he was the face of the company. Fiona listened to Scott and Nick toss around terms and figures for the next hour, and chimed in whenever things got technical.
When the meeting was up, nothing had been signed, but there were handshakes and an agreement to pursue things further. Nick was beaming as Scott walked them to the front door, and Fiona felt better than she had in days. She was glad she decided to attend.
“Fiona,” a voice called from behind.
Fiona spun as Chloe Nielson jogged to catch up to her.
“Hey. I heard you were in the building. I’m glad I caught you.” She extended her hand. “Chloe.”
“Nice to meet you.” Fiona shook her hand.
Chloe glanced at Scott, then back at Fiona. “Meeting went well?”
“It didn’t go badly,” Scott said.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Chloe asked Fiona.
“Sure.” They stepped away from prying ears, and Fiona’s curiosity grew.
Chloe was watching her with an expression Fiona couldn’t read. “How are you doing? Like, really. You’ve been through a lot.” Chloe sounded genuine. It was a nice change from Ms. Passion’s doubt.
“I’m surviving.” The concern didn’t compel Fiona to spill her guts to a stranger.
“Can I ask you something only barely business related?”
Fiona didn’t know what that meant, or if she wanted to answer. “Sure.”
“Why did you cut out of the show? I know you weren’t originally part of it, and Parker holds views on his own, but the two of you had off-the-charts chemistry on camera.”
And off. “The whole stalker incident... It freaked me out.” That was as much detail as she was willing to share.
“I get it. Are you doing better now that you’re back?”
Fiona started to say yes, but the lie stuck in her throat. She was doing better than yesterday. That wasn’t a high bar, though. She didn’t feel safer. She missed Parker so much it hurt... “I’m good.”
Chloe seemed to relax. “I’m glad. And I hope the contract negotiation, due diligence—all of it—goes well.” She handed Fiona a business card. “You can call me if you can’t get hold of the guys up top, or if you have any questions. And...” She frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Chloe shook her head. “It was good meeting you.”
“Thanks. You too.” Fiona wandered back toward Nick, the odd advice echoing in her head. It was another version of think outside the box.
She only had the one big issue, though—how was she supposed to do her job and be with Parker and let him do his job, all at the same time? Outside-the-box thinking didn’t seem like a solution, unless it came with the ability to bend space and time or alter reality.
That didn’t stop Fiona from getting stuck in a loop of how as she got into the car.
“We’re here.” Nick’s announcement made her realize they’d finished the drive back to his place.
“We’re not going to the office?” She was surprised.
“I figured you did your socializing for the day. Honestly, we don’t need the office. I like the structure of it, but you work fine wherever you are.”
“Is this your way of getting out of paying rent on my spot in the shared space?” Fiona teased.
Nick chuckled. “No. And if this Rinslet deal goes through—fingers crossed—I won’t have to consider things like that anyway. It’s up to you, though. You’re not some nine-to-fiver I have to watch, to make sure you’re working. You have as much vested in this as I do, and you bust your ass regardless of your location.”
She hopped from the car. “Thanks for the ride. Talk to you when you come back online?”
“Yup.” Nick pulled away from the curb.
Something tickled Fiona’s thoughts, but she couldn’t grasp it. What was it?
Chapter Thirty-One
Fiona wasn’t surprised when Parker made it to the next round of the competition. Despite his detractors, and her critics, he was putting out a solid show, and his fans loved it.
She watched the new coverage around Tim, and was relieved when they denied him bail, and then two weeks later, arraigned him. He was behind bars for at least a little while, and she prayed it would be a long while.
After a week at Nick’s, she told herself she needed to go home. After two weeks, she realized she didn’t want to. Not because she was terrified—the fear was still there, but not as potent as before—but what Nick said about her working remote refused to leave her.
She didn’t want to move back to her place, because she wanted to be with Parker. To see more of the world. To learn more about the man she’d called best friend. To explore their new relationship.
Each time she thought about it, terror tried to convince her to stay here. There were more people like Tim in the world.
But she refused to let him terrify her into hiding her life away. She’d done enough of that to herself.
PARKER WORKED AS BEST he could in the confined storage room. He was grateful the bar owner gave him a place to set up, but the folding table tucked between boxes of beer wasn’t exactly prime real estate.
A knock made him look up.
A thin guy, sporting dreadlocks and a goatee, stood in the open door. “You Parker? I’m Jeremy.”
“Yeah. Goo
d to meet you.” Parker shook his hand.
Jeremy was another of the contestants, and he and Parker had a joint Week Four challenge. Jeremy did death metal covers of popular songs. He was performing in a New Orleans bar, and Parker had to broadcast to both channels. The challenge was, they each had to keep the other’s audience entertained. The longer the average live feed view, the better their scores.
“You have any idea how this tech works?” Jeremy nodded at Parker’s camera and tripod.
“Not beyond the standard. I’ll run through a Rinslet cloud, so technically we’re broadcasting on a several-second delay. They do their magic—wands or some shit, I don’t know—and all our viewers see it.”
Jeremy shrugged. “That works for me. You need anything from me before I go on stage?”
“Don’t fuck things up for us.”.
“Me? Man, everything else will pale in comparison to what your subscribers see tonight.”
“Big words. Bring it, guitar boy.” Parker laughed.
Jeremy clasped Parker’s hand one more time and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll break a leg for both of us,” he said. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think the two of you faked anything.”
“Thanks.” Parker’s smile was thin. He was so sick of the rumors that Fiona’s kidnapping wasn’t real.
He grabbed his camera and tripod, and headed to the club floor, to set up. The bar had sectioned him off a square, a few feet back from the stage. Parker expected to get jostled, but he’d deal with it. It was part of the magic of live streaming.
He let his thoughts wander as the crowds poured in. He didn’t know how much longer he could deal with the whole Fiona isn’t here thing. He wasn’t sure how he’d gone so long in the past.
But he’d been rearranging his travel schedule. Going home for good was a no-no. He wanted to argue with her logic, but it was true. However, Parker had put plans in motion that would let him be with her two to three days a week. He’d surprise her with the news next time he was in town. Which might be sooner than expected if he didn’t make it through today’s elimination round.
Red Hunted_An MFM Ménage Romance Page 21
