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Typically, my father is a man who commands attention and respect.
Typically, a valet might offer a polite nod, but would hardly even notice whoever was with him.
So, when this valet’s gaze lands on Parker first and he has to visibly remind himself to greet my dad, I fucking notice.
Most of the valets here are older, but he’s a young guy, probably in his early twenties. He has dark hair that he keeps a little too long. I’m surprised management doesn’t make him cut it or at least slick it back. He’s wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt with a red vest over it like the other valets, but unlike the other valets, he’s rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to just below his elbow, so the ink trailing down his tan left arm is clearly visible above his black watch.
He doesn’t look like any fucking valet I’ve seen.
As soon as he has written down my dad’s information, his dark gaze shifts back to Parker, a small smile tugging at his lips. “What book did you bring tonight?”
His tone is playful.
Familiar.
What the fuck.
“What?” Parker plays at innocence. “I’ve never brought a book anywhere with me in my whole life.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“I’m a social butterfly. Always talking to everyone. Definitely never spotted anywhere with my head in a book to avoid peopling.”
“Of course,” he teases. “I must have mistaken you for somebody else.”
I’m boiling in my own skin at the way she jokes around with this chump like I’m not even fucking here.
Gemma must have noticed something was off—do I look confused? I feel fucking homicidal—because she steps closer and leans in to fill me in. “Last time we were here, we ran into some of your father’s clients and got caught up, so Parker snuck off and—”
“I don’t care,” I snap without even meaning to.
Without fuckingthought, and I regret it an instant later because Idocare. I want to know what I missed at the dinner I didn’t come to. I want to know every exchange that’s ever taken place between Parker and this stupid asshole.
The sound of my voice shatters Parker’s focus and she seems to remember I’m here this time.
Her smile dies, and for the merest sliver of a second, I feel like an asshole for killing it.
But all I have to do is look at Aladdin on my way by and that feeling dissipates because his appreciative gaze is glued to her ass.
My hands clench into fists at my sides. It takes every scrap of willpower I possess not to turn and swing on him right fucking now.
Blood burns its way through my veins like molten lava as I resist the urge, scorching the surface as it flows through me.
All I hear is the buzzing of rage in my ears as my dad goes through the motions of getting us a table and the girls follow him outside.
By the time we get to the nice corner table with a perfect sunset view, I’ve managed to rein in my temper enough that I don’t make a fucking spectacle, but even that pisses me off.
What Iwantto do is haul Parker away from this table and get her somewhere alone.
Alone, I can demand to know every word and lingering look that has ever passed between them before I choke her with my cock. Show her little ass what happens when she flirts with other guys.
The only reason I don’t is our fucking parents.
If I wait until we’re alone, I can get away with a hell of a lot more than if I lose my temper and do some stupid shit in public.
Doesn’t make me want to any less, though.
I think Parker can feel it as she takes her seat at the table. One side is a booth, two chairs on the other side. Parker must strongly prefer the booth side, because she slides in without offering it to anyone else.
