“I mean today at work, you know, to make him upset.” She set the empty cup down and wiped her mouth.
I thought about it. I hadn’t seen anything go down except that when I returned from lunch, Tom was in Parker’s office getting yelled at. Tom left looking pretty steamed, so maybe there was something that happened there. I hadn’t thought toask Parker whether he was okay. I just reacted to his bad attitude. I felt bad for not being there for him when he was hurting.
“Yeah, I don’t really know.” I sighed. The past ten days had changed everything for me, and I just wanted to turn back the clock and make it go a different way.
“You look miserable.”
“I am,” I told her. The club held no appeal for me tonight. “I’d rather go home and watch chick flicks and get wasted. Wanna ditch?”
Rachel looked around the room. Lights flashed overhead. The disco ball spun in a circle, reflecting them. The DJ played her favorite song, and she tapped her foot in beat to the music. I could see the desire in her eyes to remain there and dance, but I knew she would come with me. It’s what best friends are for.
“Alright…” She slapped a few dollars on the table and stood. “Let’s go.” I rose and followed her toward the door, watching the skirt in front of me flounce with each of her steps. I remembered the day we went shopping and bought that skirt and she had told me it was the skirt that would hook her a good man. I sighed at the irony of how that skirt had been the one I was wearing on the day I met Parker for the first time when he interviewed me.
It was chilly for Memorial Day weekend. I hadn’t really dressed up, but Rachel wore a cute skirt. When we stepped into the cool breeze, I felt instantly sobered up, the air temperature waking me. Rachel shivered, wobbling on her heels. I had parked a few blocks away because after being delayed at work, we’d gotten to the club later than expected. I felt bad and offered her my light sweater, but she insisted on freezing, so we picked up our pace a little.
We were almost to my car when I saw a group of people standing around. They had camera phones out, taking pictures of my car and blocking my view of what was so interestingthat they needed to memorialize it with photos. I thought I recognized one woman’s voice, but I was more worried about why they had surrounded my car.
“Hey, get away from there!” Rachel’s annoyed shout drew a few glances. Three or four of the people standing around took off running, which troubled me. I could see under the streetlight that something was different about my car. “What the hell?” Rachel mumbled, stumbling closer to the car.
As a few more of the people backed away, I saw what they were staring at. Someone had splashed paint—a lot of it—all over the hood and side of my car. I covered my mouth as my jaw dropped and stared in horror, not even bothering to look up at who was standing around.
“Oh, my God, my car!” I rushed over to it, placing my hand gently on the paint, and when I pulled it away, it was covered in bright green paint. The golden-colored paint job was ruined. I felt tears welling up. I was furious. When I looked up, only one person was left standing, but I didn’t know them. The rest of them had fled, and I could see their backs as they ran away. “Why did you do this!”
The man shook his head, wide-eyed and scared looking. “I—I didn’t do this.”
“Why did they?” I felt the tears brimming, and when I blinked, they cascaded down my cheeks. Rachel looked ready to vomit. This was ridiculous.
“I don’t know. Something about Parker Danvers.” The man shrugged, but as I pulled my phone out and called the cops, he darted down the sidewalk after the others. In the dim light, I’d hardly gotten a look at his face. I closed my eyes and tried to memorize how he looked in case the police needed a description, and when the line rang through, I reported the crime to the dispatcher, who promised the police would be there soon.
“God, what am I going to do?” I stood there watching paint run down the side of my car and drip on the pavement beneath it, waiting for the police to show up. Rachel sat on the curb, knees drawn to her chest. She had her head down. She was no help at all. I could tell she’d drunk too much way too fast. When she didn’t reply to me, I sat down next to her and assumed the same posture, curling my legs up and putting my forehead to my knees. I didn’t know what to do, but I needed encouragement.
This whole thing had been about Parker and me, somehow, probably due to Gretchen and Jack’s relationship or something. The problem was, unless there were security cameras around the neighborhood that caught the vandals on film, I had no way to identify the people who did this. I was distraught.
I pulled my phone back out and dialed Parker’s number. He was a jerk earlier today, but I needed someone to talk to and he was the only other option I had. It was too late to call my dad. The line rang and rang, and he never picked up. I wasn’t surprised. He was probably out schmoozing some business associate or something. I left him a message, but I didn’t suspect he’d even check his voicemail. Somehow, I’d really upset him, and it was definitely over.
As a last resort, I called my dad, who answered immediately. “Haley? It’s late. Are you okay?” I knew calling this late would mean he’d panic, but I had no one else.
“I’m fine, Dad.” I sighed, not wanting to explain the whole thing over the phone. “Can I stay with you this weekend?” I didn’t even try to hide the sadness in my voice.
“Of course, baby. I’ll leave the key under the mat. Just let yourself in. You know where everything is. I’ll be up early.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” His concern made me tear up.
“I think so. I just wanted to feel at home tonight.”
“Well, come on over. I’ll leave the porch light on.” Dad hung up, and I locked my phone. The job in LA was looking more and more appealing, despite knowing it wasn’t really what I wanted anymore. If Dr. James pressured me, I’d take it. It might be the only way I could get Parker off my mind.
26
PARKER
Istood as Tony Hitchens walked in. It was late, later than I’d hoped for, but my day got away from me with catching up on work, and he had evening plans. So here we sat in my office at nearly eleven o’clock. The city was dark, and so was my mood. I’d read through the lawsuit paperwork brought back to me by Tom earlier in the evening as he left the building. I ordered takeout and buried myself in the backlog of things I’d missed while away and waited for Tony to call me back.
“Well, Parker, what do we have this time?” Tony didn’t bother shutting the door. My light was the only one on, and he’d let himself in with his own key to the building, given to him as a means of securing things in the event that I had an untimely demise. He strutted in wearing jeans and sneakers, his Chicago Cubs ball cap slightly crooked. He looked exhausted, like I felt.
“Tom told you?” I pushed the paperwork in his direction as he shoved his keys into his pocket and sat. I’d seen him wearing casual clothes like this only once before, when we attended a Bears game early on in our relationship as a means of building rapport. When he indicated that he needn’t be wined and dined,I took him at his word. We’d had a pretty decent partnership since then.
