Nights With Parker (15 page)

I chuckle at her response and give her hand a tug, making her move with me toward my building. I greet the doorman, who makes a point of welcoming me home and letting me know that bags had been delivered earlier and placed in my sitting room. Bags that I’m sure are filled with the clothes and necessities I instructed my assistant to purchase for Riley. She looks around the lobby as best as she can, but I don’t give her any time to stop and take it in. I’m anxious to get upstairs and figure out my next move.

“Nice building,” Riley comments as we step onto the elevator, and I punch in the code to get up to my floor.

“Believe it or not, it was once a warehouse dating back to the eighteen hundreds.”

“Really?”

“Really,” I confirm, giving her just about the only piece of information I know about this building. We step off the elevator and directly into the foyer of my apartment. I observe Riley as she takes in the space—the wood floors that run throughout the apartment, the two skylights that brighten it, and the three oversized windows that overlook Washington Square Park.

“This place is beautiful, Oliver. It’s not where I imagined you’d live, though.”

“No?” I make my way into the sitting room and drop my laptop onto a nearby chair. “What did you think I’d live in?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs her shoulders. Her face lit with amusement. “An upscale bachelor pad.”

I can’t help myself. I throw my head back and laugh at her adorable assessment.

“And what does an upscale bachelor pad look like?”

“Not this.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I tell her, with a smile on my face.

“It’s not a disappointment.” She rewards me with a shy smile before dipping her head away and aiming her gaze out a nearby window. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

I spot the bags on the couch that my assistant had messengered over for Riley.

“These are for you,” I call to her. I’m drawn in by the way her hair whips around as she turns in my direction. She eyes the bags as she takes a few steps in my direction. Her confused eyes land on me as she comes to a stop.

“What is all that?”

“Clothes, undergarments, toiletries, makeup. Things I thought you might need while you’re here.”

“Okay, but there seems to be a lot of it.”

“I’m not sure how long we’ll be here, Riley. It could be a day; it could be a week. I’d rather you have an excess of clothing than not enough.”

I can see she’s getting ready to dig her heels in and argue with me, and I’m gearing up for what undoubtedly will be a battle when I hear the elevator doors slide open. Riley and I both turn our heads in that direction, only to find my brother, Jacob, strolling into my apartment as if he owned it.

“I need to speak with you,” he delivers curtly, barely looking at Riley.

“Remind me to have a word with my doorman about who he allows in my apartment freely.”

“It seems you barely made it into the city before picking up a friend.” It takes a lot for me not to lose my patience with him at his assumption of Riley and who she is.

“I suggest you speak only about things that you know, Jacob. Riley has accompanied me here from Savannah, and she’s a friend.”

“Is that what we’re calling them these days?”

“Careful,” I growl, taking a menacing step closer to my brother. He glares at me, almost willing me to take a shot at him. Riley steps in front of me before I can react at all. She stands perfectly straight and holds out a hand in his direction.

“Hi, Jacob. I’m Riley.”

In return, Jacob looks down at her hand then glances at me; he smiles before giving her his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Riley,” he tells her, sounding apologetic. I almost believe he’s sincere. “I apologize for my comment. I was just a little surprised to see you here.”

“It’s okay. Oliver was obviously upset to find out your mother had been in the hospital. I wanted to come with him in case he needed any help.”

He looks at her, curiously, as if he’s seeing her, really seeing her, for the first time. Maybe realizing she’s different. That she means something, and he practically seems pleased.

“That’s very kind of you,” he says, releasing her hand and taking a step back. “I can see why my brother is fond of you.”

“Riley,” I call. She turns to me, and I stride toward her cutting the distance between us. I grab her hand as she tilts her head back to look up at me.

“Take your bags and go settle in. The bedroom is the last doorway on the right.”

She looks at me hesitantly, and I’m not sure if she doesn’t want to leave me alone with my brother right now or if she’s worried about her sleeping accommodations. Or more importantly, if she’ll be expected to share that room with me. She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off before she can say anything.

“Please, baby. Jacob and I need to have a conversation.”

Her features go soft, her face warms, and the way she looks at me makes me want to kick my brother out so I can explore exactly what that look means. She gives me a small nod then skirts around me. She gathers the bags and, without delay, heads down the hall. I look away only when the sound of Jacob’s voice grabs my attention.

“You know that’s not the kind of girl you fuck around with, don’t you?”

“I don’t need your advice. Please don’t act like you give a fuck about me or my intentions for Riley.”

He juts his chin in the direction Riley just went. “She’s beautiful. If you aren’t interested in keeping her as more than just a
friend,
I might consider taking a shot.”

“Over my dead body, though I’m sure your lovely wife would love to hear how interested you are in
my
girlfriend.”

Yes. I used the word girlfriend. I’ll say just about anything to make sure that Jacob stays the fuck away from Riley. The worst part is that I actually like the sound of the words as they came out of my mouth. Jacob looks stunned; I never have a woman on my arm for more than a night, and I’ve certainly never claimed one as my girlfriend.

“Maybe you’re not so stupid after all,” he says, turning and striding into my kitchen. He makes himself a little too comfortable, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as I watch on in aggravation. “As for my wife, I highly doubt she cares what I do as long as her credit cards have an endless limit.”

I’ve never heard him talk about his wife like that. I was under the impression that he practically kisses the ground she walks on. I thought he was just as oblivious to her as he is about everything else in life.

“Did you come here to complain about your marriage, or was there a reason that I might actually care about?”

He takes a drink of his whiskey before placing the glass on the countertop. His eyes travel to the large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city, and he stares for a moment before finally focusing on me again and saying what’s on his mind. “I want to know what the fuck you were going on about this morning, telling me to keep Dad away from Mom.”

“Jesus Christ, Jacob, if you don’t already know, then you’re even more fucked up than I thought you were.”

He grips the edges of the countertop, his knuckles turning white, and I can tell that his control is slipping. This is hard for Jacob because he likes control, maybe even needs it.

“Are you implying that he did something to her?”

I fold my arms across my chest and shake my head at him. It astounds me how little my brother actually sees of the world around him, of the people in his life.

“I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you.”

“Why? Why would you think that?”

“Again. I don’t think it. I’m telling you.”

“You’re really starting to piss me off.”

“You’ve been pissing me off for years. If you’d get your head out of your ass for just a minute, then maybe you’d actually see what’s right in front of you. He’d been hitting her for years before I finally jumped in and pulled the bastard off her. That would be right around the time I stopped being a golden boy just like you, in case you’re wondering. Not that you cared that he started treating me like scum practically overnight. All you’ve ever cared about was taking over the company.”

“You pulled him off her?” he questions in disbelief. His head cocked to the side in confusion.

“Do you care? You don’t treat her much better than he does.”

“She’s my mother,” he says with a pained sigh. As if his reaction is supposed to convince me that he suddenly feels something for our mother. That he might actually give a shit about her struggle.

“Then why is it that you’re so conveniently ignorant about what her life is like?”

“If I’d have known …” he starts. He’s trying to defend himself, actually defend his behavior toward his family. I refuse to allow him to spew his nonsense to me. Not even for a minute.

“What? What would you have done, huh? Would you have gotten between them like I did, Jacob? Would you have jeopardized your shot at taking over the hotels?”

“Yes,” he bites out, his face turning red with anger, but I don’t care. I don’t care if it makes him angry that I’m questioning his integrity, his morals, because for way too long, he’s shown very little of either.

“Bullshit. You and I both know that you have no use for anything unless it helps to further your agenda and get you ahead. You never once questioned why all of a sudden I was stripped of my job and demoted. Why all of a sudden our father could barely even stand to look at me. You just cared about yourself and what it meant for you.”

His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t argue. He can’t because he knows I’m right. He knows that not once did he stand up for me the way I would have stood up for him had the roles been reversed. He knows that I would have been more than happy to share the reins of the company with him, that success and power were never as important to me as they were to him. Our rivalry and competition were not one that I created. Most importantly, he knows that our father’s approval was not something that I lived to get or keep because I’ve always known they came with conditions that I wasn’t willing to follow.

“This is getting us nowhere.” He stands up straight, his eyes locked on mine. He’s trying to gain control of the situation, but I’m not about to fall in line just to make him feel better.

“Seems like you and I are pros at getting nowhere with each other.” I do not attempt to hide the contempt in my tone. I’m through with hiding what I really think and feel around the members of my dysfunctional family.

“Oliver.” He says my name on a defeated sigh, running a hand through his now disheveled hair.

“I need you to go,” I say, suddenly feeling just as frustrated as he looks. “I have to get to Mom.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Try to convince her to get the fuck out of there and leave that bastard for once and for all.”

“Where would she go?”

“She had money before she met our father, you know? She’s not exactly poor. She’ll be just fine without him, and I’ll help her.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Excuse me?” I question wide-eyed. Now, I’m the one who’s in disbelief.

“I’m coming with you. She’ll be more likely to leave if we both suggest it.”

“You’re actually advocating for her to leave Dad?”

“You might think I’m an asshole, and you’re probably right, but this is our mother. Do you really think I’d be okay with knowing that she’s being abused?”

“Well, that’s good to hear, but you understand that if Dad finds out, you’re putting your career in jeopardy,” I tell him because if he thinks he can cross our father and come out unscathed, he’s sadly mistaken.

“I know you think my career means everything to me, and maybe that’s how it seems, but you’re wrong.”

I’d like to believe there’s more to him than what he’s shown me. Is it possible that he’s not quite as bad as I thought he was?

“All right, we’ll go get Mom. Get her out of the house, and bring her back here. Once she’s out of there, maybe she’ll be more willing to listen to us.”

“Let’s do it.”

“I’m going to tell Riley I’m leaving then we’ll go.”

He gives me a nod, and I turn away heading to my bedroom so that I can see to Riley, but I stop when I hear Jacob speak again.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and at the sound of his unexpected apology, I turn back to him. “I’m sorry that I was so self-involved that I missed what was happening with you and especially with Mom. Mostly, I’m sorry that my obliviousness made you hate me.”

“I’ve never hated you,” I say before turning and walking away. I’m sure I could say more to put his mind at ease, but this is the best that I can give him right now.

RILEY

I was still busy looking through bags of clothes, makeup, toiletries, and accessories when Oliver snuck up behind me. He wrapped his hands around my waist, pulled me back against his chest, and gently kissed my neck. Very unexpected. He told me to make myself at home while he went with his brother to check on his mom. I’d told him that I wanted to go with him, but he said it was something that he needed to do with his brother and that I would meet his mother when he got back. I agreed, and when I did, he just gave me a sexy smile and then he kissed me. He kissed me the way a man kisses a woman that he’s taken with, the way a man would kiss a woman that was his. His fingers gripped my waist, keeping me tethered to him, and I couldn’t stop myself from melting into him, from wrapping my arms around his neck and taking everything he was giving me.

Oliver is a walking contradiction, coercing me into this strange relationship with him and then treating me as if I mean something more. It’s confusing, and it doesn’t help that I’ve developed feelings for him. It doesn’t help that I want him to be that something more for me. But I don’t think Oliver wants the same thing. I don’t think he wants that from anyone, and when I consider the obviously tumultuous relationship of his parents, I can’t say that I blame him. The best thing for me right now would be to end this … whatever it is, as soon as possible, to minimize the damage to my heart.

I was starving after perusing through the bags of unnecessary items Oliver had his assistant purchase for me. I made my way to the kitchen to see if there was anything at all edible, and upon opening the refrigerator, I realized that his assistant must have also had food delivered. I decide to make dinner because I know Oliver and his brother will be coming back, and hopefully, their mother will be with them. The last thing they need to worry about is dinner, so I pull the ingredients for a simple Chicken Francaise dish and begin to cook. I think about how, when my dad was sick and Mom was busy working and taking Dad to his doctor’s appointments, I would often cook dinner in order to make things easier on them. I began to experiment with recipes that I’d find on the internet, and before long, I found that not only was I actually pretty good at cooking, but I really enjoyed it as well. It became a way for me to take my mind off what was happening in my life, how my dad’s health was failing him, and how my mom was overextending herself in order to make ends meet.