Play to Win (6 page)

That was hard to hear. Yes, I thought Ryker and I were pretty much over, but Natalie being back put the nail in that particular coffin. And I felt a twinge of disappointment. But even harder to take was that Parker had noticeably not said anything about his feelings for her—if he was over her. Or not.

Parker's gaze was still on me, reading every expression that crossed my face. Embarrassed, I turned away just as my cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and sighed.

“Hey, Dad,” I said. “What's up?”

“I'm in town,” he said. “Let's go to dinner. I want to hear what you thought of your first week on the job. I'll pick you up in ten.”

“Dad, I can't,” I said, scrambling for an excuse. I wasn't up to dinner with my father. Not tonight. “Um, Parker's here.”

“Excellent! Bring him! See you in a few.” The line went dead.

“Dammit!” I tossed my phone onto the counter in frustration.

Parker raised an eyebrow. “Care to share?”

“My dad is on his way here to take me to dinner,” I groused. “You too.”

“Well, with that kind of invitation, how can I refuse?” His dry humor made me crack a smile. Not a big one, but a smile nonetheless. He could do that. Parker could change my mood from one spectrum to another with just a few words.

“Sorry,” I said. “I'm just not in the mood tonight, but my father never takes no for an answer.”

“And it's served him well.”

I shrugged.

“I don't have to come along, if you'd rather I not?”

Parker asking? This was new. My manners kicked in and, let's face it, my desire to be with him. Now that he was here, he assaulted my senses. From how incredible he looked—his arms and chest filling out the long-sleeved polo he wore—to the smell of his cologne, to the tousle of his hair that said he'd been running his fingers through it.

No no no. I couldn't think like that. Especially now that Natalie was back. If I started to consider Parker and me being a couple, would I get kicked in the teeth? He may have been talking big about being over Natalie, but what would happen when he actually
saw
her? It might end up a completely different story.

“It's fine. My dad wants you to come, so come.” I shrugged like I didn't care either way.
Right.

I went in my bedroom and changed into a clingy cotton dress with elbow-length sleeves to protect against the chill of an air-conditioned restaurant and the nippy autumn night air. It also showed off my cleavage in a really great way. I told myself I just wanted to look my best as I rearranged the girls inside Victoria's best push-up. A squirt of perfume later and a brush through my hair and I was ready to go just as Dad buzzed from downstairs.

Parker gave me a once-over with a look that burned, our eyes meeting in a clash of want that had my breath coming faster. I knew that look…

“Ready?” I asked, only a little breathless. Thoughts of Natalie were far away when Parker looked at me like that.

“Ready for what?” he replied in a voice that begged me to rip his clothes off.

Hoo-boy.

“Okay then,” I stammered, pulling open the door.

“Don't forget your purse,” Parker said, handing it to me.

“Oh yeah, thanks.” Okay, now I felt like a smitten teenager.

It was weird—almost as though Parker and I had started over since I'd quit my job as his secretary.
Executive Assistant
, I automatically corrected myself. A new start, a new relationship.

I wanted that. More than I even could admit to myself.

Dad was already having a cocktail in the back of the limo when Parker and I showed up. He handed me one without my even asking, glanced at Parker and did the same.

“My girl is a natural businesswoman, isn't she, Parker?” he asked. The note of unabashed pride in his voice made my cheeks warm.

“Yes, sir, she is,” Parker replied. “Not that I had any doubt. Sage has always been an exceptionally quick learner. A very smart, intelligent woman.”

I shouldn't let a man's praise go to my head, especially when, hello—what else would he say to my father?—but I couldn't help the preening of pride at Parker's words.

“Exactly.” My father was nearly beaming.

Shultz drove us to a restaurant that made me glad I'd taken the time to put on a dress. The maître d' recognized my father immediately and led us to a private corner table.

“So what are the plans for the two of you?” my father asked once the waiter had taken our orders. I choked on the glass of wine the sommelier had poured.

“Pardon me, sir?” Parker asked, which I thought was a more cogent response than my coughing and sputtering. He handed me a glass of water.

“You two are together, right? My wife assures me she knows about such things and that's what she said.”

I was so going to strangle my mother.

“I'd certainly like to be,” Parker said. “But that's up to Sage.”

Dad's gaze whipped around to me like a spotlight.

Cancel that. I was going to strangle Parker first,
then
my mother.

“Sage? What's wrong with Parker? He's good-looking, got a good job, decent family, military history. I approve and so does your mother.”

“Dad,” I struggled for words. “I-it's not that simple.”

He snorted. “Bullshit. Of course it is. Unless there's not much there in the bedroom?”

Oh God. Could this conversation get any worse?

Parker snorted a laugh, covering it quickly with a cough.

“I cannot believe you just asked that,” I chastised my dad. “Seriously?”

He finished his wine. “I don't sugarcoat, sweetie. It's better to know the truth. I don't lie to myself or my family. Neither should you.”

That's what passed for fatherly wisdom and I gave an internal sigh.

Parker changed the subject to business, for which I was grateful, and dinner continued. I could follow the conversation this time and the three of us were talking long after dessert had come and gone. It was nice, really nice, to have something new that I could contribute to and have a stake in myself. I'd been part of Parker's life and career for so long, it was a new feeling to have things reversed. Now he was part of my career.

What a concept.

We'd finished off the second bottle of wine when dinner was through and I was feeling relaxed.
Natalie? Natalie who? Pfft.

We were standing outside the restaurant on the sidewalk, waiting for Schultz to bring the car around. Parker's arm was around me, his palm resting lightly on my back, and I didn't mind at all. I may have even edged a bit closer to him; the wine was doing things to my hormones that made it seem like the best idea ever.

A car drove by, but I hardly paid attention. The only reason I even noticed was because it was going kinda slow. I glanced over as an automatic curious reaction just as a sharp sound split the night.

I had no time to react because Parker wrapped his arms around me and took me down to the ground so fast, I barely knew I was no longer vertical before the sound came again and this time I recognized it for what it was.

Gunshots.

Several of them, in rapid succession. Muffled, because Parker was covering me, his entire body shielding mine.

Fear for my father gripped me as tires squealed, and I heard an engine fire as the car sped away. I hadn't counted the gunshots, but it had seemed like a lot. A dozen, maybe? Had Dad reacted as quickly as Parker had? Or was he hurt? Possibly dead?

I struggled, trying to get out from underneath Parker. He was heavy and I couldn't catch my breath as the thought came that he could be hit, too. Sirens screamed in the distance, coming closer, and I could hear people yelling.

Something lifted Parker off me and I sucked in a breath, then scrambled to get to my knees, looking around frantically. The skin of my knees scraped against the asphalt, but I barely noticed.

“There's blood on her!”

Someone yelled it, but I knew I wasn't hurt. I crawled to Parker's prone body.

“Somebody get her some help! She's bleeding!” The guy who'd lifted Parker was still yelling and pointing at me.

“It's not mine!” I tore open Parker's navy sport coat, the vivid stain on the shirt beneath like a punch to my gut.

“This guy's hurt, too! Get the paramedics!”

I whipped my head around to see three people standing over my dad, who was lying on the ground. He wasn't moving either. Schultz appeared, parking the car haphazardly in the middle of the street and running to my father.

“Oh god oh god oh god…”

I couldn't think, didn't know what to do. My hands clutched at Parker's shirt. I knew nothing that could help him. His eyes were closed and I watched his chest, relieved to see it rise and fall with his breathing.

“Parker—” I choked out. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a nightmare and I'd wake up any second.

Parker's eyes opened to mere slits and my heart leapt as he focused on me.

“You…'kay?” he murmured.

Tears spilled over and ran down my cheeks. I nodded frantically. “I'm fine.”

His eyes drifted closed, but he was still conscious because he spoke again. “Good.”

Sirens were closer, screaming inside my ears, but I didn't take my eyes off Parker. He seemed to drift into unconsciousness now.

“Ma'am, we need to get to him,” someone said, moving me aside in a gentle but firm way. Someone else immediately took hold of me, turning me to face them. It was a paramedic.

“Are you hurt? Do you have pain anywhere?” he asked.

I shook my head, craning my neck to see Parker, then swiveling to try and spot my dad past the paramedics swarming him. Two ambulances had come as well as fire trucks and police. The whole sidewalk was practically swarming with emergency personnel.

“My dad,” I choked out. “He's hurt…”

“We're doing our best to help him,” the guy said. “We need to focus on you, though. Can you tell me what happened?” He took my vitals as I stammered my way through what little I knew. We were standing there, then there was the car, then gunshots. Then Parker was bleeding and my dad wasn't moving…

I couldn't breathe and tremors shook me. There was blood on my hands and clothes. Parker's blood…

“It's okay. Take a deep breath. You're hyperventilating. Look at me. Focus on breathing…”

The paramedic's words penetrated, but I still couldn't breathe, and now I was sobbing.

“Parker…Dad…”

“It's okay—”

But it really wasn't, and I had to watch as they loaded both Parker and my dad into separate ambulances, still trying desperately to regain control. Schultz climbed in with my dad, looking more shaken than I'd ever seen him. The paramedic with me helped me into the ambulance carrying Parker, and with the sirens screaming, we roared away into the night.

T
he bullet that had struck Parker had gone clean through, so he needed stitches, blood, and antibiotics. He'd be fine with only a scar. My dad, though…my dad was a different story.

I stood there, dried blood on my clothes, listening with as much control as I could muster as the surgeon described to me my dad's condition. He'd been hit three times. He needed surgery. One bullet had fragmented off a rib and they were prepping him now to go in and remove the metal shards. He was stabilized, but at his age surgery would be hard on him. Depending on the extent of his internal injuries (which wouldn't be known “until we open him up”), he might need to be put into a medically induced coma for an indeterminate period of time.

I nodded like I was taking it all in, but my hands were still trembling and Parker's blood was on me. Schultz stood by my side, his solid presence comforting to me. He'd worked for our family for as long as I could remember, all the way back to driving me to school in the back of our Rolls.

“Surgery may take several hours,” the doctor was saying. “You're welcome to wait in the surgical waiting room rather than in the ER. It'll be more comfortable for you.” He gave us a last little nod, then turned and headed back through a set of swinging doors.

Schultz wrapped me in a hug, but I didn't allow myself the luxury of tears. I squeezed him hard, then took a step back. There were things that needed to be done, and I had to be the one to do them.

“I'll call Mom,” I said. “Do you think you can go get her, bring her here?”

“Of course.”

I already had my cell out. “I also need to call Charlie. He'll know the implications and what we need to do for the business if Dad's going to be—” I had to stop and clear my throat. “If Dad's going to be laid up.”

There was also Parker.

I had his parents' phone number in my phone. I'd put it there a while ago just for emergencies. I needed to call them, as well as his office, and tell them what had happened.

I phoned Charlie first and to his credit, he didn't seem shocked at the news. Upset, yes, but nothing fazed him apparently, not even the fact that my dad had been hit in a drive-by shooting. It was as I was talking to Charlie that it occurred to me perhaps it hadn't been a random thing. I remembered what Dad had said about the problems he'd had over the years and the tough-looking ex-military men he'd hired to secure his business.

“Charlie, do you think Dad could have been targeted?”

There was a hesitation on the other end. “Maybe,” he said at last. “It's hard to know just yet. If he was, it shouldn't take long to find out.”

“Can you find out?”

“Absolutely. I'm on it.”

I hung up, my mind working. I didn't want to know exactly how Charlie would go about investigating this, but I did want to know the answer. Because if this hadn't been random and my dad
had
been a target from a rival…well, then there'd be hell to pay, courtesy of his daughter. I could feel the anger in my veins at the thought and I took a deep breath before dialing again.

“Hi, Mom. It's me,” I said when she answered.

“Goodness, Sage, what are you doing calling at this hour? Is everything all right? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” I reassured her. “It…it's Dad.” Best to make this quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid. “He's been shot and they have him in surgery. They think he'll be fine, but they won't know more until later.”

I could feel the shock in my mom's silence and tears stung my eyes again. I blinked them back.

“Thank God you're okay,” she said at last. “What hospital?”

I told her, then added, “Shultz is on his way to pick you up. He should be there soon.”

“Good. Do you need anything?”

Just my mom.
But I didn't say that. “No. I'm okay. I'll see you when you get here.”

I had to take a couple of minutes to regroup after that phone call before I made the next one.

“Hi, Mrs. Anderson? This is Sage Reese—”

“Parker's secretary?” she interrupted.

I bit back the automatic “Executive Administrative Assistant” that wanted to pop out. “Yes, ma'am.”

“How can I help you?”

As gently as I could, I explained that Parker had been wounded in a drive-by shooting downtown. “But he's doing all right,” I hastened to tell her. “He's stable and they're keeping him comfortable. He should recover fully without any problems.”

There was silence on the other end, long enough that I checked to make sure the call hadn't dropped on my phone. Finally, she spoke.

“I see. I will let his father know. Thank you for calling, Sage.”

The line went dead.

I stared at my phone, nonplussed. I knew Parker wasn't particularly close to his parents—hence the fact that I, not them, was his in-case-of-emergency person—but he'd been
shot
, for crying out loud. Surely that merited a bit more concern than what his mother had just shown?

I didn't have time to dwell on it; I had more calls to make, but it bothered me. I couldn't imagine having a child and then seeming to care so little about what happened to them. It wasn't any of my business, of course, but I felt angry and slighted on Parker's behalf.

Next I phoned Parker's office—my old one—leaving a voice mail for his new assistant and giving her detailed instructions on what had to be done for Parker since he would be out for several days. No doubt Rosemary would wonder how I knew all that, but I didn't take time to explain, just leaving my cell number in case she had questions.

I felt more in control when I got off the phone, having hit the big lines on the To Do list. I glanced at the clock, wondering how long my dad would be in surgery. I wanted to see Parker, but had one last call to make.

“Ryker, it's me. Sage.”

“I'm surprised to hear from you,” he said. “You seemed pretty pissed earlier.”

Gee, I wonder why?
“I didn't call to talk about that,” I said, biting back the retort hovering on the end of my tongue. “I called to tell you that there's been a shooting. Parker was shot and so was my dad. We're at Cook County.”

“A shooting? What kind of shooting?”

I told him about the car and the slow drive-by.

“Were you hurt?”

“No. Parker covered me, which is why he was the one hurt.” The lump in my throat grew at that, but I swallowed it down. No time to fall apart right now. I'd lose my shit later in the privacy of my apartment.

“I thought you might want to know—”

I stopped talking then because I could hear another voice on Ryker's end. A woman's. Natalie. He covered the mouthpiece and it muffled his words, but I imagined him relaying to her what I had told him.

“We'll be right down.” He hung up.

We? Oh shit…

They let me in to see Parker and I thought I'd been keeping it together pretty damn well…until I saw him.

He was shirtless, with bandages stained slightly with blood that had seeped from the wound, machines quietly monitoring his vitals, an IV drip in his arm, and his hair in a spiky disarray that at any other time would look sexy but now just made me that much more aware of his injured state…It was enough to break anyone, and it broke me.

I put my hand over my mouth to muffle my sob. Guilt didn't even begin to describe the emotion I felt at seeing him this way. Because of
me
. And likely because of my father as well. I still held out a small hope that it had been a freak of circumstance, but I also wasn't an idiot.

Parker's hand lay on top of the covers and I gently covered it with mine. I couldn't believe this had happened. It was surreal, like a nightmare from which I couldn't wake.

As if to punctuate the whole
nightmare
theme, the door swung open and Natalie walked in, followed by Ryker.

“You're kidding me, right?” I hissed at Ryker, heading him off at the pass and getting all up in his business. “Parker's been shot and you bring
her
here? You think
now
is the best time for a reunion?”

“She wanted to come,” he said. “It wasn't like I could tell her no.”

“So it would seem,” I spat. He heard the scorn in my voice—it was hard to miss—and his gaze turned cold.

“Does it matter? Tell me the first thing you did when you got home wasn't to call Parker and tell him everything.”

I didn't dignify that with an answer. Turning on my heel, I nearly gagged at the sight of Natalie, her hand cradling Parker's, running her fingers through his hair. Twin tears trailed down her cheeks in perfect crystal rivulets.

“You're going to wake him,” I gritted out, trying to keep my voice down. I knew they'd given Parker pain medication, but the way she was messing with him was sure to pull him out of any drug-induced haze.

Sure enough, no sooner had I thought it than his eyelids fluttered open.

I hurried back to his side—the
other
side, as Natalie had taken my previous position—and saw his eyes open and focus. Unfortunately, they focused on Natalie, and his brows drew together in a frown.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.”

The rasp of his voice was low but even so, the words were unmistakable. I hid a triumphant grin, disguising it with a slight cough.

“Parker, it's me. It's Natalie.” The tears had stopped and she smiled the perfect blend of sad and hopeful.

“Yeah. I know.” He winced as he turned his head, pulling his hand away from hers as he did so, until his gaze landed on me. His hand fiddled with the controls to the bed. “There you are,” he said to me. “Glad to see you're all right. What did the doctor say?” He completely ignored Natalie as he pressed the button to adjust the bed to sit more upright.

I gave him the rundown of his diagnosis and prognosis, ending with “And I called Rosemary and told her what to do about your meetings this week and the month-end reports. Your parents have been notified as well.” That last one I kind of glossed over because I didn't want to go into detail about how
un
concerned his mother had seemed to be.

“Good. Thank you.” He blinked kind of slow-like, resting his head back on the pillow, then saw Ryker standing behind me. “Man, what are you doing?”

Ryker stiffened. Parker hadn't said it meanly, more like the way I'd ask a girlfriend why in the world she'd start texting the ex who'd taken forever to go away.

“We'll talk when you're not drugged up,” he said, approaching Natalie and taking her elbow. “Let's go.”

Natalie let him lead her out of the room, but her gaze remained on Parker and what I saw chilled me: desperate longing and determination.

They went through the door and a noise from the bed had me swiveling, my attention now caught on Parker.

His eyes had shut but opened to slits when the door snicked closed.

“Are they gone?”

“Yeah, I'm sorry,” I said. “I thought Ryker should know, but I didn't realize he'd bring her.”

Parker sighed. “'S'okay. Best to get it over with sooner rather than later.”

“Is there anything you need? Anything I can get for you?”

He shook his head. “No, I'm fine. Thank you.”

Parker was clearly
not
fine—he was shot and in a hospital—but I got the message well enough. I'd been dismissed and I turned to go.

“Wait…”

I was afraid to hope when I turned back.

“Stay for a while?” he asked.

My smile nearly broke my cheeks, it was so wide. I nodded, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, I can do that. I'll just go check on how my dad is doing, then I'll be back, okay?”

He nodded and I hurried out to the waiting room, finding a nurse who was able to tell me my dad was still in surgery but things were going well so far. I told her where I'd be and asked if she'd come to Parker's room to update me. She smiled in a nice way and said she would. Shultz hadn't yet returned with my mom and I knew it would still be a while before they got here.

By the time I got back to Parker's room, he'd fallen asleep, but that was okay. After Natalie had woken him, I was sure he needed the rest. And I didn't care what he said about not having any reaction to Natalie's return other than his exasperation at Ryker's behavior—it would be a shock for anyone, especially considering their history. Maybe he just didn't want to tell me for the same reasons I didn't want to know.

I moved one of the chairs in the room closer to the bed, which took some doing as I was trying to be quiet and it was a heavy chair, made for people to sit in for long vigils and have some measure of comfort.

It was late and I stifled a groan when I sank into the cushions. Worry for my dad gnawed at me and I tried to keep my eyes open, but exhaustion—emotional and physical—proved too much and before I knew it, I'd nodded off.

A gentle hand on my shoulder woke me. I jerked upright from where I'd been slumped, then immediately winced at the crick in my neck. It would appear I was too old to be sleeping in chairs.

“I'm sorry to wake you, but I thought you'd want to know that your father came out of surgery okay,” the nurse said quietly. “He's in the ICU now and your mother is with him. You can visit him in the morning. You can talk to the doctor then about his condition, but for now the surgery went well and he's stable.”

I glanced at the generic clock on the wall. It was after three in the morning.

“Yeah, okay, thank you.”

She disappeared out of Parker's room as quietly as she'd apparently entered. The lighting had been turned down so only the faint glow from the panel of windows on the door lit the room. I tried to find a new position in my chair that would provide any semblance of comfort. Impossible.