Chapter Nine Noel
Chapter Nine
Noel
You! I want you!
Those four words have been playing on a loop for the last week. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing, like having a conversation with Gran. They’re stuck.
“—then Jackie Peeps said the Carolina Comets were taking the Cup this year, but I told her she’d been smoking too much of that whacky tobaccy and that the Seattle Serpents had it in the bag—”
You! I want you!
“Noel?”
You! I want you!
“Bub?”
You! I want you!
“Noel Benjamin Carter!”
I whip my head toward Gran. “What now, Lou Lou?”
She scowls at me, and I’m unsure if it’s because I called her Lou Lou or because I wasn’t paying a lick of attention to what she was just talking about. “Boy, I swear ...” She shakes her mixing spoon at me, then turns back to the task at hand—baking enough to feed an army.
She’s been in the kitchen baking away for tonight’s raffle, which means the house has smelled amazing for days, and I’ve not been allowed to eat any of the delicious treats.
An absolute travesty, if you ask me.
It is almost as big a travesty as having Parker so close and not seeing her for a week. We’ve slipped right back into our old habit of ignoring one another, which is unfortunate, because I got a good ass chewing from my agent about extending my stay. But Aaron being Aaron, he made it work. He’s already started fielding the questions that have popped up thanks to the photos of me some of the local high schoolers are posting on Instagram and canceled the red-carpet appearances and two interviews I had. All I have to do in exchange is read a script he’s been trying to get into my hands for weeks.
It’s the last thing I want to do, but it’ll all be worth it if I can get Parker to talk to me.
When I saw her getting pie at Fran’s on Saturday morning, she ran out the back door. When I saw her Tuesday morning at the town rummage sale, she hid under the booth where she was working. By Wednesday, I was wiped from helping out with various things around town—Gran had a whole list for me—so I stopped by Bigfoot’s Hideaway for a drink, and I could have sworn it was Parker who disappeared through the kitchen doors and was never seen again.
On Thursday, I stopped looking for her, because one thing was clear—she would run no matter what.
“—I’m saying is that Jackie Peeps is wrong. How can you not root for your hometown to win the big hockey game?”
“Wait. You watch hockey, Gran?”
She stops mixing and peeks over her shoulder at me. “Yes! Where the hell have you been for the last ten minutes?”
“Sorry,” I mutter. “I’m just . . . It’s . . . I . . .”
She sighs, then sets her spoon down. She turns and heads for the table, wiping her hands on her apron.
“All right,” she says as she sits across from me, where I’ve been bagging cookies for the last couple of hours. “What’s going on? You’ve been a mopey little shit for the last week. Reminds me of that time Jessica or Julie or whatever her name was dumped you in eighth grade, and you boo-hooed for a week.”
“Her name was Kelsey, and I did not cry for a week. It was one day, and it was my first heartbreak.”
“Well, whoever she was, I hate her.”
“You just bought flowers from her at the farmers’ market.”
“I did no such thing!”
I laugh. She did. We even joked about Kelsey’s claim to fame, which is that she was my first girlfriend. Gran just has no clue who she is because she was never able to get her name right the whole three months that we “dated.”
“Anyway,” Gran says, cutting me a look that could kill if she wasn’t so damn tiny and unintimidating. “What’s on your mind, bub?”
I set aside the cookies I’m bagging and lock my fingers together, resting my forearms on the table. “Parker.”
Gran’s lips pull into a frown. “What’d you do, Noel Carter?”
“Hey! I didn’t do anything!”
She arches a brow at me. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you’ve been in cahoots with Parker for years and never told me about it. Now you like her better than me.”
She rolls her eyes with a huff. “Please. I love that girl like she was my own, but she’s not my own. You are. I love you more, but that doesn’t mean I want to see her hurt. So I ask again—what’d you do?”
“I really didn’t do anything, Gran. We were having lunch after the ceremony last week, and we started talking about all the renovations Parker’s done around town. She admitted to redoing your kitchen—something you could have told me, you know. Then I offered to pay her back for the project because I don’t believe you should be spending your money like that, especially when I’m more than capable of taking care of you.”
“First, I don’t have to tell you shit.”
I roll my lips together so I don’t laugh at my grandmother saying shit .
“Second, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was important who redid my kitchen.”
“It’s Parker. Of course I’d want to know.”
She shrugs. “Third, even if I had paid for Parker’s labor, it would have been my money to spend as I please. You might make the big bucks, but you don’t need to take care of me. I haven’t had a partner since your grandfather passed away—before you were even born—and I have been getting along just fine. I don’t need anyone’s assistance but my own.”
If I weren’t so worried she’d smack me for it, I’d reach over and high-five her for her empowering speech.
“And fourthly, you did do something wrong.”
“How?!” I toss my hands into the air, completely at a loss.
“Because Parker is an incredibly independent person, and she doesn’t need your money either. That business of hers she built is successful as hell, and this town wouldn’t be doing half as well as it is if she didn’t have the genius idea of renovating houses and using them as rentals for the tourists. Your offer was like a slap in the face to her, especially after you’ve been gone so long.” I shrink farther down in my chair with each biting word. “You think you can just roll into town, act like you haven’t spent the last ten years away, and throw money around to fix everything? That doesn’t erase all the years, Noel.”
As much as Gran always supported me in leaving, I knew deep down that a part of her was hurt by it. But this is the first time I’ve heard her so angry over it.
“I’m sorry,” she says after several tense moments. “You know I’m glad you’ve found success. I really am. It’s just ...”
“I know, Gran. I miss you too.”
“You’ve been gone so long, Noel. So, so long. Why?”
I gulp down the lump stuck in my throat. “You know why.”
“Because of Parker? Because she wouldn’t join you in LA?”
“It’s more than that, and you know it.”
“Fine. Then because you two kissed?”
I squeeze my eyes as the memories assault me. The kiss with Parker wasn’t just a kiss. It was so much more than that.
It was a promise. Parker knew it, and I knew it too.
But then she went and broke that promise, and now here we are, ten years later.
“I know it’s hard to let go of the past,” Gran says. “But sometimes you have to if you want to build a future. You kids need to work out whatever’s going on between you, because you’ve spent too many years of your life loving each other not to.”
Deep down, I know she’s right. Parker and I have too much history to just throw in the towel because we went and fell for each other.
But where do we start? How do we get back to what we had? Or even just our friendship? I miss that the most. I miss laughing with her with no discomfort. I miss sitting with her with no expectations. I miss being around her, and truthfully, I have since the day I left for LA.
How could I not? She’s funny and smart and gets me on a level nobody else does. And even after all these years and the distance, she’s still my best friend.
“Talk to her,” Gran encourages. “Do it soon before these next six weeks fly by, you go back to LA, and another ten years pass without talking.”
“I will,” I promise her. “I’ll talk to her.”
And I intend to keep my promise tonight.
Parker might have been able to run and hide earlier this week, but tonight she can’t. We’re going to be trapped together in the Community Hall. Besides, she has to stick around. It is her event, after all.
I’m overdressed again.
Does nobody in Emerald Grove dress up for functions? At least a few people here are wearing dresses and suit jackets, but no other soul is dressed in a full tux like me.
“Gran, you let me overdress again.” I scowl down at the woman on my arm.
She grins proudly, not even bothering to feign innocence. “I know. You just looked so damn handsome and had a little pep in your step for the first time in days. I couldn’t ruin your good mood.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, though I don’t mean it.
“Oh, don’t be like that. You look great. I’m sure the bidders will agree.” She winks up at me, and I’m not sure if I hate how excited she is for this torment I’ve subjected myself to or love how supportive she is no matter what.
“Wow, Noel! You look incredible,” Fran says as she hands me the program for tonight. “Like a Hollywood movie star.” She pauses, realizing what she’s just said, then laughs. “Oh, right.” She shakes her head. “Sometimes I forget. You’re still just Noel to me.”
I give her one of my red-carpet smiles. “Thanks, Fran.”
“O-of c-course,” she stutters, clearly affected by the grin.
I laugh as we make our way into the Community Hall, which has been overhauled to look like a fancy-schmancy event room instead of just where everyone gathers for bingo on Sunday nights. Tomorrow, this place will be teeming with folks who are ready to scrap over the winning pot. But tonight, it almost looks magical with its draping curtains, high-top tables covered in expensive-looking linen, and eye-catching centerpieces.
I have no doubt who put all the effort into this.
Like the universe is playing some cruel joke on me, the crowd parts, and directly across from me stands Parker.
“Holy shit.”
She’s next to Axel, who is holding a kid who looks to be about four, two identical ones standing next to him. Another woman, who I assume is Axel’s wife, has her head tossed back and is laughing at whatever Parker’s saying.
“Yeah, I’d say,” Gran says, and I hadn’t realized I’d said anything out loud. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
I can’t speak. Can’t even nod along in agreement.
All I can do is stare.
Her eyes wander around the room, then land on me, and I see her stiffen, but not even that can distract me.
Parker’s usually tied-back auburn hair is hanging loose around her shoulders in subtle waves, one side tucked daintily behind her ear. A knee-length, pine-colored dress clings to the curves she almost always hides underneath paint-stained overalls or T-shirts that are two sizes too big. She’s wearing black high heels—a first since she didn’t even wear them to prom—that make her legs look a mile long, and sparkly earrings dangle from her ears.
She’s not just beautiful, she’s stunning.
And now she’s running away.
“Go.” Gran unhooks her arm from mine and shoves me forward as Parker tries to disappear into the crowd. “I’ll be fine. Talk to her.”
I push through the crowd, ignoring people when they call out to me. I only have one thing on my mind, and right now, it’s Parker.
I barely catch a glimpse of a green dress as the door leading to the basement closes.
“Noel, just the guy I was—”
“Rain check, Garth,” I say to the owner of Bigfoot’s Hideaway as I reach the door.
I throw it open without a care about the scene I’m surely making and step into the stairwell, letting the door close behind me.
“Parker! Park—”
There’s a surprised squeak at my back, and I spin around to find her with her back pressed up against the wall.
She was hiding— literally hiding—behind the door.
“Crud,” she whispers, and I grin.
“Yeah, crud is right. Are you really trying to run from me?”
She straightens, then lifts her shoulder. “I’m just getting some fresh air.”
“In the stairwell that I know leads to nothing but a storage room for all the bingo tables?”
She notches her chin up. “Yes.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on, Parker. You can’t run forever.”
“Why not? You did.”
My jaw tics. “ I ”—I jab a finger into my chest—“didn’t run. I told you where I was going. I told you where I’d be. I begged you to come, and you never showed. You stopped calling. You stopped answering the phone. You stopped being there for me .”
“Because I was scared!” she explodes. “I was scared. You asked me to leave behind everything I knew and loved and follow you to LA like some lost little puppy. Why? So you could grow bored of the girl from your small-town life and take off again, leaving me alone to fend for myself?”
“I would never do that.”
“Don’t be so sure. People make promises all the time they can’t keep. My father did it to my mother. He promised to love and cherish her, but when he wasn’t satisfied with what this town could offer, he took off and left us and never returned. Like you. I knew you were never coming back the second you left, just like him.”
Jesus. Is that what she thinks? Is that how she’s seen this all these years? That I’m like her father, and I abandoned her? It was never supposed to be like that. I wanted her there more than anything. She’s the one who didn’t want to come.
I suck in a deep breath, running my hand through my hair. “Peter, I ...”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine. It’s ... fine.”
“It’s not,” I tell her, stepping closer. “It’s not fine. I didn’t mean to stay gone. It’s just ... We stopped talking, and I thought ...”
“You thought what? That I just forgot about you, like you forgot about me?”
My heart sinks. How could she even think that? There’s no way I could forget her. She’s Parker. She’s ... well, she’s everything good about my life here. She’s all my happy memories in one place. She’s the greatest thing to ever happen to me. And yes, even despite the years, she’s still the person who knows me the absolute best.
“You ... think I forgot about you? I didn’t. I could never forget you, Parker. Never.”
“What else was I supposed to think?” She huffs disdainfully. “I’ve seen the tabloids. You were off in Hollywood, going to parties and falling into bed with actresses and stepping out of clubs at two in the morning and—”
I kiss her.
I step right into her, and I press my lips against hers.
It takes her about three seconds to realize what’s happening, then suddenly, she’s kissing me back.
She grabs the lapels on my jacket, holding me to her like she’s afraid to let go, and I get it because I’m fucking scared too. I press her against the wall, cradling the back of her neck with one hand and her waist with the other as I explore her mouth with my tongue.
This kiss is different from our last one, not just because we both know what we’re doing now.
It’s different because this kiss is the culmination of years of pent-up anger and frustration and longing and missing someone so much your heart literally aches.
It’s that kind of kiss.
I bunch the material of her dress up because I need to touch her more than I’m already touching her. I need to feel her. When my fingers brush bare skin, she tugs me closer, and I take it as a sign to keep going. I push the material up until it sits around her hips, then run the inside of my pinkie where her thighs meet.
She gasps into my mouth at the soft touch, and I pull away.
She looks gorgeous like this—her hair is disheveled from being pinned against the wall, her lips swollen from my kisses, and her eyes glassy with lust.
“Tell me to stop, Parker.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“Then I won’t.”
It’s all the warning I give her before I slide my hand into her silky underwear and take what I’ve wanted for so long— her .
She gasps as I glide my fingers through her folds and over her clit, then whines when I push just the tip of one inside her.
Fuck, she’s tight. So damn tight. So warm. And so fucking perfect.
“Noel,” she moans into my neck when I push in more and begin working her over with a single digit. She hooks her leg around my waist, pushing me deeper. I love the bite of her heel digging into my ass. “Please.”
“Please what, Parker? Tell me what you want.”
“You. I want you.”
It’s the same thing she said to me last week. The exact four words that have been stuck in my head since. But now ... now they’re so much more.
Our tongues collide in a fervent kiss as I fuck her with my finger, and god , she tastes so good. Like peppermint and home and all mine.
She bucks her hips against me, riding my hand like she can’t get enough, and when I press my thumb against her clit, she gasps, wrenching her mouth from mine.
“Ohgodohgodohgod.”
Sure, they’re technically separate words, but they all sound like one.
“I’m so . . . so . . .”
“I know, Parker. I know.”
And I do know because I feel it too. I’m as close as she is, only I don’t have the luxury of coming right now—but fuck if I don’t want to. My cock is straining against the zipper of my pants. It’s the hardest I’ve ever been, and I know it’s purely because of Parker and the little sounds she’s making right now as she takes what she wants from me.
Her body tenses, and it’s the only warning I have before she clutches my jacket tighter and comes undone around me.
I fuck her through her orgasm, letting her ride my hand the whole way through until the last shudder subsides and she’s nothing but a shaking mess as she tries to catch her breath.
I kiss her lips, chin, jawline, and neck. I kiss her everywhere I can because I’m not ready to be done touching her yet. It’s not enough, and I fear it will never be with her.
“Noel ...,” she whispers as I nip lightly at her neck. “I—”
“Parker!”
The door bursts open, and I barely catch it before it smacks against me.
I let it close as Fran comes barreling into the stairwell, and I remove my hand from between Parker’s legs, shifting in front of her to shield her from our intruder.
“Parker!” she calls. “Park— Oh.” She stops, looking right at me. “Noel. Have you seen ...” Her mouth drops open when she realizes that Parker is tucked against me. “Parker.”
The woman in question pokes her head around me. “Hi, Fran.”
The pie shop owner’s cheeks grow redder by the second. “Hi, Parker. I, uh, I was just coming to let you know that we’re getting started on the bidding. You know, in case you wanted to give the opening remarks.”
“Right. I’ll ... I’ll be out in a moment.”
“Of course. I’ll just, um ...” Fran points out to the party. “I’ll be there. I’ll stall.”
“Thank you,” Parker says.
Fran gives me one last long glance as she pulls open the door just enough to squeeze through, then disappears.
The door clicking shut sounds like a shotgun in a small room—deafening and meaningful.
Parker pushes lightly against me, and I reluctantly release my hold on her, stepping back so she has just enough room to shimmy her dress back into place. She brushes against me with every movement, and I relish it.
When she’s finally done, she looks at me for the first time.
“That was . . .”
“Yes?” I ask.
“Unexpected.”
I don’t think you can call ten years of waiting unexpected, but I don’t tell her that. I brush her long auburn hair back from her face, tucking the strands back behind her ear as they were before I mussed them up.
“Do I look okay?” she asks softly. “Is my lipstick ...”
“Completely gone and likely all over me? Yes.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “I don’t have my purse in here.”
“It’s okay. I’ll sneak off to the bathroom.”
She nods, blowing out a long exhale before pointing to the door. “I should probably ...”
“You should,” I tell her.
Except I don’t move. I can’t. Not yet, and not just because my cock is still straining against my slacks. It’s more like I can’t because I know as soon as I let her go, this moment is gone, and I’m not so sure I want to lose it yet.
I step toward her, my body snug against hers once again, and suddenly, everything feels right in the world.
“Noel . . . ,” she says breathlessly. “What are you . . .”
I swallow her words, careful to keep my hands tucked by my sides so I can’t slide them through her hair and we have to start this whole process over again.
I just need one more kiss. One more taste. One more minute of her being all mine.
I let my lips linger against hers until I can’t any longer, and only then do I finally step away for real this time.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Four.
I need distance or we’ll never get out of here.
She’s sagged against the wall again, eyes squeezed shut as she tries to regain her breath once more.
She sucks in one last deep breath before brushing past me on shaky legs.
I grab her wrist as her hand lands on the doorknob.
She turns back to me, lifting her brow in a silent question.
“We should talk.”
She swallows harshly. “Okay.”
It’s one word, a simple answer, and then she vanishes through the door and into the night.
I stand there for several minutes, staring at the spot she just abandoned, trying to talk myself down. Trying to figure out where the hell we go from here.
When I know I can’t stay gone any longer without risking someone coming to look for me, I step back into the party smelling of peppermint and Parker.
The Restoration Raffle is an official success, and we’ve only just started on the bachelor biddings.
The last I looked, we were up over $20,000. It’s not the huge pot I’ve seen at other charity events and raffles I’ve attended, but for Emerald Grove, this is as big as it gets.
I’m not surprised that Parker is leading the pack. It’s easy to get swept up in her and fall for her charm. It’s no wonder people are clamoring to empty their pockets tonight.
“All right,” she says into the microphone with a wide grin. To most, she probably looks completely put together and completely focused on the task at hand.
But to me? I can see where my hands played in her hair, spot the wrinkles on her dress where my fists held it up, and there is no mistaking the little red spot on her neck where my lips were attached.
Not to mention that every time her eyes scan the crowd, they linger on me for just a moment too long.
“Next up, we have Clifford Daws. Most of you might know Clifford as our resident go-to man for any and all things greenery, but tonight, he’s offering up a special evening with him. You get to pick the day, and Clifford will take you to Lake Cushman on his boat for a romantic day on the water. We’ll start the bidding at fifty dollars.”
“Fifty?” Clifford says loud enough for the microphone to pick up. “I’m worth at least a hundred, dammit.”
The crowd laughs, and Parker does her best to stay composed as she smiles at everyone.
“Well, then, folks, I guess we’re starting at a hundred.”
“Damn right we are,” Clifford grumbles.
She bangs her gavel against the podium, and a few bids go up around the room. Soon Clifford’s worth at least $175 and looking pretty damn proud of it.
I tune them out as I spy Parker’s mother waltzing over to me with a cup of coffee in her hand. She can’t even give it up for one night.
“Astrid, you look lovely tonight.”
Parker’s mother grins, then waves her hand over her floor-length dress, which looks like something somebody would wear to Coachella. “This? Bah. It’s nothing. I thrifted it years back. Now, about you and my daughter.”
“Pardon?”
She laughs. “Please. You can’t fool me. But just so you know, if you two are going to sneak off together and pretend like nothing happened, you might not want to make googly eyes at one another.”
I shake my head, ready to deny everything, but it’s pointless, especially with Astrid’s knowing look.
“It was nothing.”
Her usually cheerful eyes narrow to slits in an instant. “It had better not be nothing, Noel. That’s my baby girl.”
In all my years of knowing her, I’ve never heard such seriousness from Astrid Pruitt. Sure, she’s been like a mother to me, but like a fun mother who lets you do and get away with anything.
But right now ... Well, she looks downright scary, staring up at me with sharp eyes.
She steps into me, lowering her voice. “If this is nothing ...” She shakes her head. “Well, then, I don’t think it’s a good idea if you stay around, even if you did promise to. That’s not fair to her—or you, for that matter.”
“It’s not . . . I just meant . . .”
“I know what you meant. I’m just telling you that you’d better know what you’re doing when it comes to her. Parker is strong and resilient, but even the toughest people have limits.”
I understand where she’s coming from. I truly do.
But in all fairness, I didn’t mean to hurt Parker the first time around. I was just looking for something more out of life. Something different that would allow me to really follow my passion for acting.
I think the hardest pill to swallow is that all this time, that thing I was looking for ... it might have been right here.
I know I have to go back to LA after my time here is up, and I want to do that, but the rush to do so doesn’t feel as pressing anymore, and I’m not quite sure what to make of that.
But that’s not a problem I want to deal with right now. I have bigger things to worry about, like figuring out when I can get Parker alone again.
“Understood, son?” she prompts, wanting a response from me.
I nod. “Understood, Astrid.”
“Good. That’s good.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “Well, I’m off to bid. But one last thing?”
“Yes?”
“My daughter’s lipstick is on your collar.” Then she throws her hand up and yells, “Five hundred for Clifford!”
I stare in shock as Astrid pushes her way to the front of the crowd, steps onto the small stage they’ve erected, grabs Clifford by the shirt, and drags him off into the crowd like he isn’t her mortal enemy.
What in the hell just happened?
Apparently, Parker has the same thought, her mouth ajar and eyes twice their size as her mother moves through the bodies standing around. Half the people are laughing, and half are just as shocked as we are.
“Well, then.” Parker laughs lightly. “I’m definitely going to need that story later.”
The crowd chuckles along with her as she shuffles her cards.
She reads over the name and pauses, her eyes flicking toward me.
Fuck. I’m next.
She steps up to the microphone again, that same fake smile from before plastered across her lips.
“Next up, we have the man I’m sure most of you have been waiting for. Some of you may know him as Hollywood’s heartthrob, but to many of us, he’s still that same kid who had training wheels on his bike until he was twelve.”
“And a half! He was twelve and a half!” Axel hollers from across the room.
I glower at him, and he just shoots me a grin. His wife swats at him, shaking her head, and I don’t even know her, but I like her already.
“Sorry. Twelve and a half .” Parker tucks her lips together to hide her grin. “Please help me in welcoming to the stage ... Noel Carter!”
The room erupts in cheers, and I push off the high-top table I was leaning on and make my way to the stage. Several women in the crowd talk behind their hands, probably making their plans to bid. If I didn’t want this theater to succeed for Parker’s sake, I would immediately run in the opposite direction and book a plane ticket back to LA.
But I can’t run. Not just because of the theater, but because there is no way I’m walking away after what just happened in that stairwell. I have to know if it was just a onetime thing or if it could be more.
The spotlight is blinding as I step onto the stage and wave to the crowd. I swear they cheer louder because of it.
I ignore it. I have my attention set on something else—Parker.
I step up to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, not missing the way her breath hitches.
“You’re going to pay for that later.”
I don’t know if it’s a promise or a threat, but it elicits the tiniest of squeaks from her, and I’m satisfied either way.
Parker clears her throat. “All right. Let’s get this started. We’ll start the bids off at—”
“One hundred!” a woman yells from the crowd. I hold my hand to my eyes to see who it is, but I can’t make her out.
“One fifty!” another woman adds.
“One seventy-five!”
It keeps going until it hits $750, Parker’s eyes getting wider and wider with every bid.
It’s our biggest bid all night, but I think they can do better.
I slide up next to Parker, sticking my head in front of the microphone. “Come on, now. We can do better than that, right? Think of how much joy this theater is going to bring your kids.”
“Think of how much joy he can bring me for one night,” someone in front says.
“Abigail!”
I recognize that voice. It’s my tenth-grade teacher, which means that her daughter, who was a year younger than us in school, just said that.
She ducks her head down, but not before I throw her a wink.
What? It’s for a good cause.
“One thousand dollars!” A new voice booms through the small space, and every hair on my neck stands up. Leonard Figgins elbows his way through the crowd. “I bid one thousand dollars.”
I don’t know why he repeats this, but it sends a hushed murmur through the crowd, and Leonard simply smirks.
Then it’s crickets.
Nobody moves. Nobody says anything. And I’m pretty sure it means I’m going on a date with Leonard Figgins, where he will no doubt grill me on any- and everything, and I’ll walk out a headline.
“Five thousand.”
My head whips toward Parker, who is staring down at Leonard with sharp eyes and a face that says Try me .
“You can’t do that,” he tells her, fuming.
“What? I can’t donate to a good cause?” she challenges.
“Yeah, can’t she donate too?” someone says.
“Let her bid!”
The volume kicks up, and everyone agrees that Parker should be allowed to play along with everyone else.
“But you ... you ...” Leonard stomps his foot. “Ugh! I’m out.”
Parker smiles victoriously. “Well, there you have it. Noel Carter, sold to the highest bidder—me.”
She bangs the gavel, making it official.
I was wrong. I’m not going on a date with Leonard. I’m going with Parker.
And damn if I haven’t been more excited for anything in my life.