Star Bright (17 page)

“No, of course not.” Parker’s voice drifted away into taut silence. “I’ve just never been here before. You know? Messin’ with a married woman isn’t my style.”

“Then walk away.”

Parker rubbed between his eyebrows. “I can’t. I’ve tried keepin’ my distance, but first thing I know, I’m makin’ excuses to be with her again.”

“Well, then?”

“Technically, won’t I be committin’ adultery?”

Frank took a moment to answer. “You worried about burnin’ in hell over a technicality? I’m sorry, son, but I don’t think heaven’s judicial system works that way.”

Parker had to smile. This was why he’d called his dad—because he could always count on him to talk good, old-fashioned common sense. Frank had a way of breaking things down so the complicated suddenly seemed simple.

“How many times have you told me not to justify a wrong?” Parker asked.

“A number of times.”

“So, what if I’m justifyin’ and makin’ excuses so I won’t feel guilty about steppin’ over the line?”

“If the girl’s got marks on her face from a man’s fists, there’s no line to step over. My advice is that you stop thinkin’ it to death and just follow your heart. You’ve got a good one.”

Parker closed his eyes. “Right now, my heart’s tellin’ me to jump in with both feet.”

“Then jump.”

“You won’t disapprove if it turns out that she’s married?”

“Not for a minute. The marriage ended the first time he hit her. I’d encourage her to get a divorce as soon as possible, of course. But that’s a legality, not an immediate necessity.”

“Convincin’ her to file for divorce could be tricky. She might be afraid her old man will find out where she is.”

There was a smile in Frank’s voice when he replied, “Send the bastard an engraved invitation to lunch.”

Parker had heard that one so many times that he knew what came next. “And serve him a fist sandwich when he dares to show up?”

“I’m thinkin’ more along the line of a fist banquet. If you’re not feelin’ froggy, call Clint. He’ll show the bastard how the cow ate the cabbage. Nothin’ gets him riled faster than a man roughin’ up a woman.”

“Clint can take a number and stand in line. This fellow’s mine. I got a Tony Lama boot that’s just itchin’ to kick some ass.”

Frank chuckled. “That’s my boy. Teach him how it feels to be on the receivin’ end. Might make him think twice the next time he gets an urge to beat on a woman.”

When Parker opened the office door a few minutes later, he was smiling. Talking with his father had helped him sort his thoughts and get his head on straight. Married or not, Rainie was fair game. Parker wasn’t about to let some misguided sense of morality stand in his way.

Rainie sat on the floor playing with Mojo. She was giggling so loudly that she apparently didn’t hear him enter behind her. Watching her with the puppy did his heart good. Adopting Mojo had been a stroke of genius. It was hard to be solemn, sad, or frightened with a mischievous, toothy, snarly puppy to break down all your defenses.

“I figured you’d be eatin’ pizza like there’s no tomorrow by now,” he said. “Instead you’re playin’ with that goofy dog.”

She angled a startled glance over her shoulder. “He won’t stay in the pool. It’s a little hard to ignore him.”

Parker dropped his gaze to the kiddie pool. He’d known when he bought it that Mojo would climb out of it in two seconds flat. It had served as a great smoke screen, though. Rainie would never suspect that he’d adopted the puppy as much for her as he had for himself.

He heard her giggle again and glanced up to see Mojo suckling on her earlobe. In that moment, Parker would have traded places with the pup in a heartbeat. Her hair smelled like apple pie. Strange, that. He’d never been a huge fan of apple pie—until now.

“You reckon he’s hungry again?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

She started to get up. Parker stopped her with a raised hand. “He’s my dog. I’ll mix up his grub.”

Moments later, when he returned to the main part of the office, Rainie had Mojo cradled in her arms like a baby, his fat little belly shining pink at the ceiling. “Uh-oh. You hornin’ in on my turf, tryin’ to steal my dog?”

She smiled up at him. Parker decided he’d not only hung the moon, but the stars as well. “He’s too sweet to resist,” she informed him.

That had been Parker’s hope. He put the food bowl down on the floor, and Mojo started squirming to escape. Rainie set him gently on his feet and beamed with pleasure as she watched him waddle over to the meal. “He has a great appetite.”

“That’s a good thing. He’ll grow big and strong. Sammy says he’ll be very protective of his loved ones when he gets older, that all his growlin’ and tuggin’ right now is only for practice.”

She pushed to her feet, treating him to another fetching glimpse of shapely leg. “I don’t know very much about rottweilers—or any kind of dog, for that matter. My dad had allergies, so I could never have a pet.”

Parker filed that bit of information away, pleased that she’d shared it with him. “That sucks. I never had a dog as a kid, but I didn’t notice the lack because I had horses. They were my pets. Still are.” He sat at the desk and opened the pizza box, motioning for her to join him. “Don’t know what possessed me to get a dog, but I’m glad I did.”

She sank onto her castered chair. “It was his
mojo
,” she said, her cheek dimpling in a teasing grin. “It’s hard to look at him without being charmed.”

“I was taken with him, that’s for sure,” Parker confessed. “He grabbed hold of my jeans and wouldn’t let go. He’s got brass. I like that.”

She plucked a piece of pizza from the box, stringing mozzarella to the pink tip of her outthrust tongue. Watching her, Parker felt his jeans grow snug again. But the feeling was quickly replaced by sheer enjoyment at seeing her so relaxed. Mojo had definitely worked some magic.

“He needs some teething toys,” she informed him. “You thought of everything but that.”

“Hmm.” Parker took a bite of pizza, studying her as he chewed. After swallowing, he said, “Would you go with me to a pet store to pick some out?”

He half expected her to refuse, but she surprised him with, “That would be fun.”

“Tomorrow? We could drive in together and do lunch before we go shoppin’.”

“Lunch?”

“It’ll be a nice change from takeout. You like authentic Italian?”

“I love Italian.”

“I know a great little mom-and-pop. Red-checkered tablecloths, bread made fresh every mornin’. The food is awesome. They make all the pasta and sauces themselves. I don’t go to eat there as often as I’d like.”

“What’ll we do with Mojo while we’re gone?”

“I’ll find a box, and we’ll take him. The pet store I’m thinkin’ of welcomes pets. We’ll let him pick out some of his own toys.”

Sunlight slanted through the windshield into Rainie’s eyes as she drove home that evening.
Lunch
. Why had she said yes? It felt too much like a date. Every time she thought about it, she got butterflies in the pit of her stomach.
Stupid, stupid.
He was ten years older than she was. His family was rich. His first name began with a P. She felt as if her life had become a television rerun, and she knew exactly what would happen next. People were supposed to learn from their mistakes. Right? Yet here she was, developing a huge crush on another older man.

Parker was nothing like Peter, she reminded herself. It was silly of her to draw comparisons. But how could she not? Peter had been her boss. Parker was her boss. Peter had been opinionated. Parker was opinionated. She’d trusted Peter when she shouldn’t have. Now she was starting to trust Parker.

Was she weak-minded or something?

The moment Rainie got home, she picked up the phone. Dates could be canceled. Self-destructive behaviors could be changed. She wasn’t doomed to repeat the same old mistakes unless she allowed herself to repeat them.

Parker had just stuffed a large bite of pastrami sandwich into his mouth when his cell phone rang. He immediately recognized the number, not because Rainie contacted him very often, but because he’d been tempted to call her so many times that he had memorized the digits. He made quick work of swallowing the food, hit the talk button, and said, “Hey. You aren’t stranded somewhere with car trouble, I hope.”

“No. The car is running perfectly now that your mechanic worked on it.” Silence. “I, um, just called about tomorrow.”

Tremulous and soft, her voice wrapped around him like tendrils of silk. He knew by her tone that something was up. “What about tomorrow?” he asked.

“The lunch thing. I’ve decided to cancel.”

Parker settled his hips against the granite counter and crossed his ankles. It was her prerogative to cancel, and normally he would have let it go at that. Only with Rainie, this went much deeper than a simple change of heart. He felt certain of it.

“Why are you cancelin’?” he asked, wondering even as he formed the question if she would answer candidly.

“I, um . . .” He heard her take a shaky breath. “It just feels too much like a date. And I’m not ready for that. I may never be ready for that.”

He had to give her high marks for honesty. By making the confession, she was admitting that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. Otherwise she would have gone with him to town and never given it a second thought. He decided to take a huge chance by responding with honesty himself.

“It can be rough when you’re tryin’ to recover from a bad relationship.”

“Yes,” she agreed, her voice pitched barely above a whisper. “I, um . . . I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes.”

“I don’t blame you there.”

“You don’t?”

The incredulity in her voice made him smile sadly. She’d clearly been expecting an argument. “Not a bit. I’ve made a few mistakes in my lifetime.” And blowing this chance with her wouldn’t be added to the list. “Repeatin’ ’em would be pretty damned dumb on my part.”

He heard her sigh. “Thank you for not being mad at me.”

“Mad at you? For cancelin’ a silly lunch date? Nah.”

“That’s just it, don’t you see—that it’s only a silly lunch date. I don’t know why I’m in such a dither about it. Have you ever felt like your life was becoming a rerun?”

“Like on television, you mean?”

“Yes, only a really
bad
rerun, the kind you never want to watch a second time. It’s like getting stuck on a monorail track. I want to go a different direction this time, only no matter how hard I try, I can’t. I’m doing the same things all over again. Having the same feelings. It makes me panicky.”

The frantic edge in her voice told Parker that she truly did feel panicky, and she’d done such an excellent job of describing her sense of helplessness with the monorail analogy that he could almost feel it himself. Mojo waddled over to attack Parker’s pant leg, but Parker was so focused on his conversation with Rainie that he barely felt the tugs. This was a turning point in their relationship, he realized, a hugely important turning point. Never before had she opened up to him like this. How he responded would determine where they went from here.

His first impulse was to promise that her relationship with him would be nothing like the one she’d just escaped, but if he did that, they would both have to acknowledge the possibility that they would someday have a relationship beyond that of boss and employee. He didn’t think she was ready to contemplate that yet.

“In my opinion,” he said cautiously, “a little panic can be a healthy thing.”

“Healthy? It feels crazy to me.”

“What would happen to all of us if we felt no fear after gettin’ seriously hurt? It’s called survival instinct, darlin’. You’ve been through a really rough time. If you felt no panic, that’d be crazy. Bein’ afraid is completely normal.”

“I’m
so
afraid, though. And I no longer trust my judgment. I was so
wrong
about him. I thought he was wonderful, and he . . . wasn’t.”

It was the closest that she’d ever come to acknowledging the abuse she had endured. Part of Parker wanted to press her to share more, but another part of him knew it would be smarter to back off. “Everyone makes a bad judgment call now and then. Makin’ mistakes and learnin’ from them is how we become better people.”

“I’m not sure I learned from mine, though, and not everyone makes such a stupid mistake. He set me up, Parker. He knew I had an inheritance, and he pretended to be everything I needed him to be until he got his hands on it. I never even
suspected.
How stupid is that?”

Parker wiggled his boot to entertain the puppy while he collected his thoughts. Normally he never aired any of his family’s dirty laundry. It was personal and nobody else’s business. But he sensed there was one story that Rainie desperately needed to hear.

“Sweetheart, you need to stop beatin’ up on yourself. My little sister, Sam, is one of the smartest, most astute ladies you’ll ever meet.” His voice had gone husky with sincerity. “And the exact same thing happened to her.”