17. 2
She twisted her hair into a messy bun. She didn’t have the time or the energy to dry and straighten it. Rica surveyed her face in the mirror. Concealer and eye drops hid most of the damage. A small smear of tint on her cheeks added some color, as did a swipe of gloss to her full lips. A small dab of eyebrow gel helped to tame her thick brows. Another deep breath. I’m OKAY, nothing bad happened. She turned off the light and headed downstairs.
“Ready to go?” she asked brightly. Parker turned off the television and stood up.
“Are you ready?” he asked. Rica felt warm under his scrutiny, but from the look on his face, she looked okay. Maybe even better than okay.
“Just need my purse, and I’m good to go.” Rica moved toward the table by the front door where she’d dropped it when they’d arrived.
“I didn’t mean are you ready to go. Are you sure you’re up to this? It’s been an eventful twelve hours.”
“Not for me, since I don’t remember a lot of it,” Rica quipped. She shoved a pair of sunglasses on top of her head and turned to face Parker with a smile plastered on her face. Parker moved toward her and loosely gathered her into his arms. She reluctantly laid her forehead on his sturdy chest. She was too tired to resist.
“So, your plan is to fake it til you make it?”
“Yes. And I’d rather be at the gift opening than here alone. I’m not very good company for myself today.”
“Fair enough, but say the word, and we’ll leave.”
“What’s the word?” she asked.
“Apples.”
Rica smiled up at him and rolled her eyes. “You are a weird man, but I can work with apples. Let’s go.” She stepped back and opened the front door. Parker followed her out of the house.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I prowled around your main floor, and I noticed the paint samples on the kitchen wall. If Emily needs help with renovations, I’d be interested in the work.” He opened the car door for her, and she carefully slid in. Parker started the car and pulled away from the curb before she answered.
“Sounds like the great Haven grapevine failed you. I bought the bungalow from Emily. I am so excited to have a home of my own.” Rica beamed at him. “Overall, it’s in good shape, I’m just not keen on the kitchen. I thought color would be the best place to start. If I get hung up, I’ll let you know.”
“Seems like a solid bungalow. The built-ins in the living room are in good shape and they look to be original, but you may want to get the hardwood floors refinished sooner rather than later.”
“What would you charge?”
“You’d be better off going with someone who only does floors. I can ask around, if you’d like.”
“That would be great. Did you get a chance to look at the porch? Do you think the brick pillars need tuckpointing?”
Rica pulled a pen out of her purse and found an empty paper bag on the floor near her feet. She smoothed it out and peppered Parker with more questions. By the time he pulled into the parking garage at the Hart Hotel, Rica had a list of possible repairs. She neatly folded the bag and tucked it into her purse before unlocking her seatbelt.
P arker surveyed the room. It was smaller than a traditional hotel meeting room, and it was arranged to look like a living room, complete with a fireplace along one wall. There was food on one side, gifts on the other, guests in between, and no sign of Jordan. He flexed his fingers, willing himself to relax.
He’d seen enough guys try to take advantage of women who’d drank too much to last him a lifetime, but it still surprised him when a creep tried it. Intervening was getting old, too, but he didn’t have a choice. It was the right thing to do.
They were a bit late but given that the newlyweds couldn’t take their eyes off each other, he figured he and Rica were in the clear.
“You’re late,” the old man grumbled at his side.
“Busy morning, Gus. I had to figure out how to use all my new styling products.” Parker rocked back on his heels. Rica fought the urge to laugh at Gus’s scowl.
“Actually, it’s my fault we’re late,” she said.
“Well…then… hmpf.” Gus shook his head and walked away.
“That was odd,” Parker said, as he watched Gus’s retreat.
“Not really. He seems to do that whenever I’m around. I hope I haven’t upset him. That wouldn’t be good for the new business if our landlord doesn’t like me.”
“I’m guessing you just leave him tongue-tied,” Parker said. Just like me. “He’s used to dealing with men, not a pretty woman.” Rica stared at him. “I’ll give you a hint. That was another compliment. You’re supposed to say, ‘Thank you, Parker.’”
“Thank you, Parker,” she mimicked softly, rolling her eyes. Parker chuckled and lightly shoved her away from him. He was relieved to see some spark back in her eyes.
“Okay, lady. Go join the other swans and ooh and aah over the gifts. You’re cramping my style.” Rica swatted him on the chest and walked away. Parker absently rubbed his chest as he watched her approach Krista, London, Wren, and Emily, or the swans as Croix had named them, since he found saying all of their names too cumbersome. He’d reasoned the elegant, slightly intimidating group of women was just like a bevy of swans.
He and Rica had flirted with each other over the last year. She was intelligent, quick-witted, and fiercely independent. After this morning, he could add stubborn to the list. That she reminded him of a young Selma Hayek—large, deep brown eyes, light olive-toned skin, a ripe mouth that looked perfect to kiss, and curves he wanted to explore—didn’t hurt either.
He’d wondered once or twice if he’d misread her signals. But last night, when they’d danced, there’d been no mistaking them. Especially after she’d kissed him. Parker remembered leaning back and looking at her, wanting to make sure he hadn’t just imagined it. That was when Jordan had cut-in and dragged her away for a dance.
Damn! Had she already had too much to drink at that point? Parker’s mood deflated. So much for a clear signal. He didn’t think that morning’s thank-you kiss counted for much, either.
He wandered over to the salad and sandwich buffet, helped himself to lunch, and went in search of Croix to see if he’d learned anything after he and Rica had left last night. He found him hovering near the dessert station.
“Nothing. I spoke with the rent-a-cop, who actually is a real cop I went to school with, and he hadn’t seen anything. He said he could review the security footage if we wanted him to.”
“Rica refused to go to the hospital. She says she was drunk, not drugged. We don’t have any evidence,” Parker said.
“Can I say I told you so?”
Parker narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t advise it,” he warned as he flexed his fingers. Croix looked around Parker’s shoulder.
“Krista’s moving away from the food. I’m heading back for a few more desserts.”
“I’ve got your back. I can’t believe Krista had to work today.” The two men made their way across the room.
“She didn’t,” Croix explained. “She just wants to make sure Emily’s day is perfect. I tell you, Hart Hotels struck gold when they made Krista as their food and beverage manager.”
“Jackson certainly is lucky,” Parker said, as he surveyed the dessert trays.
“Have you seen Miller?” Croix asked as he helped himself to a few of the bite-sized desserts.
“I saw him and Wren when I first got here. Looked like they were having a heated discussion.”
Croix frowned at Parker’s words and added a few more desserts to his plate. Once they’d helped themselves to one of everything—or in Croix’s case, multiples of everything—they joined Rica and a group of their friends.
“How’s everyone holding up?” Parker asked the group at large while looking directly at Rica. She looked pale under her olive complexion and her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“This has been a lovely weekend, but it’s been a long one. Between the groom’s dinner, the wedding, and now today, I’m beat,” London said. “Good thing tomorrow is Labor Day, so I can officially relax. Yoga pants and no high heels.”
“You’re not helping Wren move?” Croix asked.
“My talents lie elsewhere.”
“And her complaining would just slow us down,” Krista added as she joined the group. Parker noticed Croix shove the last of the treats in his mouth.
London laughed. “Right again, my friend,” she said as she and Krista knocked their cups together.
Parker glanced at Rica’s plate. She hadn’t eaten much. “Krista, Hart outdid itself this weekend. Everything was fantastic!” he said.
“Well, it had to be, since it was the boss’s wedding. Hopefully, London can work some marketing magic and bring some more wedding business in,” Krista said. She reached over and swiped at the corner of Croix’s mouth. “Looks like you tried the pumpkin bar.”
“I’m trying to increase my vegetable intake,” Croix said. Croix and Krista could poke at each other all day, but Parker didn’t want to be a part of it.
He glanced at his watch. They’d only been there for an hour, and Rica looked like a light breeze could blow her over. “I think my favorite was the fruit salad. It’s almost perfect, but it’s missing something, and I can’t put my finger on it,” Parker said. Krista turned her attention to him and scowled. Parker knew she was going to fillet him. He should have been more diplomatic.
“Pray tell, Mr. I-live-on-fast-foods, in your vast culinary knowledge, what was missing?” Krista cocked her head to the side and lethally smiled.
“Crunch. It needed some crunch.” He saw Rica look at him out of the corner of his eye. She took a bite of the fruit salad on her plate.
“Parker’s right. It needs crunch. And while my first choice would be nuts, I realize you can’t do that because of allergies.” Rica took another small bite. “Apple might work though,” Rica suggested. Good girl . Rica had paid attention and had followed his lead. She’d said apples, their safe word for leaving.
“Feedback’s always good, right Krista?” Croix asked. Krista turned and stalked toward the beverage table. Parker made a big show of checking his watch and then frowning.
“Do you mind if we go now? I’ve got a thing,” he asked Rica, and she seemed to relax.
“No. That’s fine.”
“Great.” Parker reached for her plate. “I’ll go dispose of this. You can say your goodbyes, and I’ll meet you at the door.” Rica nodded her head and walked off.
She didn’t keep him waiting at the door. Parker tucked her arm into his, but Rica tried to pull away. “Humor me, okay?” he asked. “You faked it pretty good in there, but right now you look like you could drop. And if you drop, you’ll force me to use the fireman’s lift again.” The threat worked, and Rica stopped fighting him.
She was quiet on the ride home. “Do you want a hand getting inside, or can you make it?” Parker asked as he parked in front of her bungalow.
“I think I’m good.” She flashed him a tired smile. “I just need a nap, and then I’ll feel like myself again.”
“Are you still feeling discombobulated?”
“You know, that’s exactly how I feel. That and stupid.” She looked down at the purse in her lap and then out the side window before looking back at him. “Thanks, Parker. For everything. You’ve gone above and beyond.”
“Well, shucks, ma’am.” Parker faked a terrible cowboy drawl and tipped an imaginary hat at her. “It was nothin’.” Rica laughed, just as he’d hoped she would. “Now git!”
At his order, Rica slid out of the car. Parker watched her graceful exit until she made it safely inside.
R ica stared at the brick building across the parking lot as she leaned against her small, practical SUV. She rolled her shoulders, hoping to relieve some tension. She shouldn’t have taken that nap yesterday. Or at least she should have set an alarm. Yet another lapse in judgment.
Wren was moving in with her today. The house was ready, but she wasn’t. She’d emptied the main floor bedroom and bathroom and had cleaned them until they’d shone. There were now several empty cupboards in the kitchen and half of the refrigerator’s shelves were bare. She’d even remembered to make an extra set of house keys. But she wasn’t ready for a roommate.
She sighed heavily. Poor Wren has lost her home and her business, and I’m whining about sharing my space. Get a grip and pull on your big-girl panties , she lectured herself. Wren wasn’t happy about moving either, but she’d stressed it was just temporary. Rica had waited this long to live alone, a few more months wouldn’t kill her. Plus, Wren was independent and wouldn’t need Rica to entertain her or solve her problems.
Rica watched Parker approach from the corner of her eye. Almost everyone who was going to help with the move was there already.
“Still discombobulated?” Parker asked as he leaned against the shiny hood and stood next to her.
“Headache’s gone and I feel more like myself.”
“Good, well if you need—“
“Parker, I think the best thing going forward is to put it behind me. I appreciate all your help over the last two days, but please don’t bring it up again.” Rica pushed off her car to join the others before he could respond. Parker followed her up the stairs and positioned himself next to her as the friends formed an assembly line along the outside staircase. It was the quickest way to empty Wren’s apartment of boxes. It didn’t take long.
“Miller should be here any minute. He went to borrow Gus’s trailer,” Eric said. Rica helped herself to a bottle of water and surveyed the pile of boxes. It wouldn’t take long to load the trailer and then unload it back at her bungalow. She finished her drink as Miller drove up with the trailer bouncing behind him.
Rica stretched her arms overhead and twisted from side to side to loosen up her muscles. She saw Wren above them on the landing, watching Miller get out of his SUV.
“Are you done thinking?” Miller yelled up at Wren. He sounded irritated.
“Yes,” Wren shouted down. Rica felt Parker at her side.
“Well, this ought to be interesting,” he muttered as he cracked open a bottle of water.
“Do you know something?” Rica quietly asked.
“Maybe, maybe not, but I have a hunch. Keep your fingers crossed.”
“Where to, Wren?” Miller asked. Rica stole another glance at her new business partner. Miller was usually calm and collected, but now he seemed anxious and aggravated.
Eric turned and answered him. “Emily’s bungalow. Dude, pay attention. I told you that already.”
“My bungalow now,” Rica said under her breath. She wondered how long it would take everyone to stop calling it Emily’s bungalow.
“Courage over comfort, Ginge,” Miller said, ignoring everyone except Wren.
“Did you mean what you said yesterday?” Wren shouted down at Miller.
“Every word,” Miller said. Rica saw him place his right hand over his heart. This is like watching a tennis match but with verbal volleys, Rica thought as she swiveled her head up to see what Wren would say.
“Well, then, Counselor. If your offer’s still on the table, I’d like to accept.”
“You won’t ever regret it. I promise,” Miller said.
“Is that your new goal?” It sounded like Wren was teasing Miller. What is going on? Rica dared a look at Parker. He must have seen the confusion on her face because he smiled and gave her a thumbs-up.
“Yes, ma’am,” Miller answered.
“Are we moving or making googly eyes at each other all day?” Croix asked as he picked up a box and moved toward the trailer.
“Miller’s! We’re moving my stuff to Miller’s!” Wren flew down the steps. Miller caught her at the bottom and her legs swung out as he twirled her around.
“When did this happen?” Rica asked Wren over everyone’s congratulations and endless questions.
“It’s been a slow development,” Wren admitted.
“For you, maybe.” Miller tugged at Wren’s short ponytail and kissed her again. “I’ve been in a relationship with you ever since we shared a chair at the Galley.”
“Sounds like a story,” Parker observed.
“We’ll tell you about it over pizza tonight, after we get everything moved to our place,” Miller promised.
“So, she was your mystery girl?” Parker asked. “The one you turned down the partnership for?”
“Yep, and it’s the best decision I ever made.” Miller pulled Wren closer to him. “This way I get to be my own boss, and I get to do it with one of my oldest friends and with a new friend. With Croix’s accounting and tax experience, Rica’s financial planning skills, and my business and family law background, Fortress Advisers is just what Haven needs.”
Rica didn’t know who looked happier, Miller or Wren.
“Rica, I hope you’re not upset about me not moving in,” Wren said with a small pout on her face. Rica could tell it was just for show, but she appreciated the effort.
“How can I be when I’m so happy for you? For both of you. I’ll miss you, though,” Rica admitted.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You know what she means,” Krista said. “When you’re in a relationship, friends sometimes get shuffled to the side. Now that Emily’s married, hopefully we can get her back.”
“Well, don’t get your undies in a bind over me. I hope you’ll be seeing plenty of me. Miller offered me Fortress’s part-time office manager position, and if it’s okay with you and Croix, I’d like to accept.” All eyes were on Rica.
“I think that’s a great solution,” Rica said. “Croix?”
“Ditto, but no PDA in the public areas. We’re serious professionals, after all.” Croix grabbed another box and moved toward the trailer.
“Does that mean I can kiss Wren in the break room?” Miller shouted after him. Croix set the box in the trailer and turned. “I’m not going to argue with you on this. You’ll want everything defined to within an inch of its life. Do not kiss Wren, or do anything else with Wren, if there’s a snowball’s chance in hell I’m going to interrupt. I don’t want to see that.” Croix grabbed another box and hauled it toward the trailer.
“I second that,” Parker said.
“If anyone gets to second it, it should be me. I work there.” Rica bent over and picked up a box, but Parker took it away from her.
“I do, too. Handi Andi hired me to work on Fortress’s remodeling crew. I’ll be starting bright and early tomorrow morning.” Parker walked away with the box, and Rica resisted the urge to collapse onto the one at her feet.
It was bad enough seeing Parker occasionally, with the crush she had on him, but it would be a disaster on a daily basis. She’d have to do everything she could to work from home until the new offices were done. Seeing Parker Thorpe daily was the last thing her heart needed.
It took even less time to load the trailer than it had to empty Wren’s apartment. Rica handed out the remaining water bottles and then sat on Miller’s tailgate with Krista. They started a blow-by-blow analysis of this morning’s events.
“Hey, Rica,” Croix interrupted. Rica turned and looked at him. “Since you’ve lost Wren as a roommate, maybe Parker should move in so he can avoid his floating deathtrap this winter.”
“Hell, no!” Parker said, without looking her way. Good thing, too, since he probably would have seen the panicked look on her face. Heck, the international space station probably caught it. “I love my boat. It only costs me $350 a month, and when I’m bored, I can untie it and take a mini-vacation exploring the Poplar River.”
“All right, Huckleberry Finn, but what happens in the winter?” Krista asked. Rica was curious, too, especially after seeing his boathouse firsthand. Was that really only yesterday?
“That’s easy. I cover it with a plastic cold-weather cover and run space heaters. It stays nice and toasty. I’m able to wear shorts and a T-shirt.”
“But I thought boats had to be pulled out of the water because of the ice?” Rica couldn’t help but ask.
“Mine has a steel hull and with the current of the river, ice isn’t a problem. Really, my houseboat is the best of everything. I’ve got a cheap place to stay in between assignments, and I can come and go as I please.”
“Even though I’m in real estate, this sounds good to me,” Eric said.
“I still think it’s a deathtrap,” Croix argued.
“How much longer are you going to be in town?” Miller asked Parker.
“At least another month. I’m on a leave of absence. That human trafficking piece burned me out. I need to let the niceness of Haven soak in before heading back to the ugliness of the world.”
“It was an excellent article. Disturbing and eye-opening. You should be proud of yourself.” Miller thumped Parker on the back.
Rica silently agreed. While Parker’s article covered human trafficking in the US, he’d focused on the Iowa State Fair, known for its trafficking. He’d referred to it as the heart of darkness in the heartland of America. As with all of Parker’s articles, it was unbiased, thorough, and in-depth, sometimes too in-depth. A reader learned the story behind the story, and, most important, how they could change the future. Parker’s piece had included nationwide resources and tips on how to spot potential trafficking. Things like dollar-sign and bar-code tattoos behind someone’s ears or them not knowing what city they were in. She didn’t blame him for wanting to spend more time in Haven after all that he’d seen firsthand.
“I am, now that Congress has taken notice and we might see some action on it.” Parker tugged at the closest tie-down, making sure it was snug. “Should we get this show on the road?” He looked at Rica and Krista for a moment before saying, “You know, I don’t mean to sound sexist, but you two look beat. I think Croix, Eric, and I can handle unloading, especially if Miller lets go of Wren. Why don’t the two of you go?”
“For future reference, Parker, I don’t like to be told what to do. But I’m going to agree with you this time.” Krista slid off the tailgate and Rica followed her. “This wedding weekend did me in. I need a good night’s sleep and a promise that no one else will get married in the next year.”
Rica and Krista gave Wren a hug as they left. Miller invited them over for homemade pizza that evening, but they both declined. Krista was going straight to bed, and Rica was planning on an early night too.
Keep reading Love in Chaos .