Chapter 4
Oh my gosh, that was great!” Marie announced, taking her seat.
“I told you,” Ann said with a roll of her eyes. “Now drink your margarita before it gets watered down.”
“Yes, I’m parched.” Marie took a large gulp and the powerful punch of tequila hit her. “Whoa, that was a little much.” She checked her phone and saw she had a missed call from Lexi. “Oh crap, Lexi called. I’ll be right back.” Marie went to the lobby, where it was quieter and hovered in a corner to return the call.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Lexi, is everything okay? I freaked when I saw your missed call.”
“Mom, it’s fine. Dad called asking to have Jackson tomorrow night, but Jackson said he had Ricky’s party. So, Dad wanted me to call you. Can he have Jackson?”
“Um, if Jackson wants to, it’s fine with me. But he was excited about Ricky’s birthday. Why is he coming back a day early from Vegas? Ugh, it’s so like him to flip-flop. I don’t know what to do.”
The irritation in Marie’s voice was loud and clear. Who could blame her? Lexi’s call had interrupted her evening out—her first evening out since the divorce. But it was typical Craig being controlling, having to know right now. Especially after Lexi told him Marie was out for the evening with the girls; that was Lexi’s first mistake. Her second mistake was calling him rude.
Marie knew Lexi had her own irritation with her dad. The strain on their father-daughter relationship had begun ten years earlier, once Lexi was old enough to understand his controlling, manipulative treatment of her mom. Marie had tried to shield Lexi as much as possible from the hurtful, ugly words Craig would say, but she couldn’t. Time and time again, Lexi was a witness to her mom’s tears, and it broke Marie’s heart. When Craig left their home for good, Marie saw the enormous relief Lexi felt. Even so, Craig still controlled Marie, and Lexi had no way of helping her mother.
“Okay, Mom, I’ll handle it, no worries. Are you having fun? You kinda sound relaxed. I can hear the music…you’re dancing, right?” Lexi prodded.
“I am relaxed. And yes, I’ve danced to two songs.”
“Well the night is still young, so I expect another dozen dances from you, missy,” Lexi teased.
“You’re an awesome daughter. Have a good night.”
“You too, Mom. Bye.”
Marie ended the call and paced, gripping her phone tightly. She couldn’t believe Craig called Jackson after canceling his weekend with him. He was the world’s biggest jerk, in her book. She took a deep breath and did a little shake to release her frustration. More than ever, she wanted to forget about her boring life and her ex. The call fueled her determination to have a good time with her girls.
When Parker saw the woman walk to the front of the club with her phone in hand, he assumed she’d be back, but his curiosity got the better of him. He excused himself from the table and followed her. He stopped several feet back to observe the delicious dress that hugged her curves just right. Her tan skin stood out against the white of her dress, begging to be touched by him. There was no question he found her attractive, and he hadn’t even spoken to her yet…but he planned to.
Parker had watched the expression on her face change throughout the call—worried, then smiling, then frustrated with her hands balled up, then smiling again. The sight of her was magnificent, and more than anything, Parker wanted to dance with her.
As she walked toward him, he stepped in front of her. Their eyes locked and an unfamiliar surge move between them as her face flushed.
“Excuse me,” she said.
“Would you like to dance?” She stared up at him, stunned. “I watched you dancing with the other guy. Your moves are pretty great. What do you say?” Just inches away from her, he could smell the soft scent of her intoxicating perfume, her eyes darting around with a look of uncertainty.
“Sure.”
Parker nodded with a slight raise of his brows, then put his hand on the small of her back, escorting her to the dance floor.
Marie stiffened at the light touch of his hand as if hot coals burned through the fabric of her dress. The sensations put her on alert, instantly hyper-aware of his touch. She avoided looking in the direction of her table. The girls would for sure see the anxiety on her face and would likely give her crap about it.
This guy was gorgeous, in his black slacks and white button-down shirt that enhanced his muscular build and trim waist. She guessed he was several years younger than her, judging by his dirty-blonde hair that looked to be styled by a top-rated stylist—one of those Hollywood stylists. Then she remembered her Latino requirement; Latino he was not. However, this gringo had slate-blue eyes that were calm and safe, not at all like Craig’s hard stare. Why on earth did he ask me to dance? No matter, it’s just a dance, she told herself. Just one dance.
Marie turned to face him, his intense eyes consumed her with their intrigue and desire. A tremble radiated through her body; she needed to dance to get her mind off him. The song, “Me Enamoré” by Shakira, did the job. It was a sexy song she could get lost in as she danced with her handsome partner. All she had to do was pretend she was dancing in her kitchen, wiping down the counters and loading the dishwasher. It’s just one dance.
Enthralled, Parker couldn’t get enough of this dancing beauty. She made little eye contact with him, but when she did, her dark, piercing eyes stirred him up. All he wanted was to pull her close and feel her curvy body against him. When she whirled around and whipped her hair back, her perfume about knocked him off his feet. Then a flash from behind her caught his eye; a woman had her phone out taking pictures of him. It was crappy timing. He wanted to dance and be normal, not pose for selfies with his encroaching fans.
Just as the song neared the end, the Latino returned and cut in. “Can I have the next dance?” he asked Parker’s partner.
“Sure.” She smiled. “Thanks for the dance,” she said to Parker as she turned to dance with the other man.
Deflated, Parker walked back to his table with a few women following him. He took a large gulp of his drink, then proceeded to take selfies with the women, but his gaze remained on Marie.
“Nice move on the free publicity,” Victor praised. “You always surprise me with what you know how to do.” Parker sighed with a slight shake of his head; his manager never quite understood him.
“She has you bent out of shape,” Dave said, jerking his chin toward the woman who captured Parker’s attention.
“Yeah.”
“Did you get her name?”
“No. We didn’t talk much. Damn, she’s beautiful.” He finished his drink, keeping his eyes on her.
“You let the dude cut in and steal her away. What’s up with that? You never back off,” Dave said.
“Because she wanted to dance with him.” He shrugged.
Parker watched Marie through two more songs before she returned to her table. He called over the waitress. In a whisper, Parker requested an order of rounds for her and her party. By this time, he had already taken a dozen photos with fans.
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.