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“You’re going to be fine, cupcake.”
My eyes pop open, and I expect to see whoever said that standing in front of me, but there is nobody there. Turning my head, I look at the door, but it’s closed.
“Parker?” a voice calls out.
Turning, I look to see Doctor Hamilton standing at her doorway. “Why don’t you come inside?”
I start to ask her if there was a man here, if he walked through this room, but I decide against it mainly because I don’t want her to think I’m completely crazy. A little wacky is one thing, but completely and totally gone?
No thank you, not yet, at least.
Standing, I give her my most sincere smile and dip my chin as I walk into the room past her. Making my way straight toward the leathery sofa, I sink down and take my purse and laptop bag off my shoulder, placing them beside my feet on the floor.
“It’s good to see you again, Parker. It appears as though it was a bit easier for you to come in here today?”
Her question is innocent enough, even observant. But it isn’t exactly the truth, either. I open my mouth and begin to speak but decide against it. At least not yet. Nodding once, I clear my throat and shift in my seat slightly, uncomfortably.
“Tell me, how was your weekend and week?”
That was all I needed. I can’t keep my mouth shut. Everything, everything spills out of me. Every little detail, except pleasuring myself in the shower. I don’t tell her any of that, not a single moment of it, but everything else I blather on about as if she were Allison. A friend. And not a psychologist.
WELLS
She’s beautiful.
I’m not sure why, but seeing her close to a panic attack, close to a break, is fucking breathtaking. I couldn’t help but say something as I walked past her in my mom’s office building. I knew she had an appointment today, and I had to see her up close. I had to know that it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me, that she was truly as beautiful as I’d seen from a distance.
And she is.
Breathtaking.
And mine.
Soon, I will have her all to myself. I’ll be able to bring that anxiety, that fear, into the bedroom, and she’ll look at me that way instead of at nothingness. I can tell she’s alone in more ways than one. I can see it not only by watching her but in her eyes. Haunted loneliness, a sweet creature begging to be controlled.
And she will beg.
I want her to beg me to hurt her.
Beg me to bruise her.
Beg me to fuck her.
Leaving my mom’s office, I make my way toward my own. We have some paperwork to complete, a lot of it actually, considering the new building for the passport office is back on the table. The associate and his daughter will be in shortly to finalize the resurrection of the sale.
Another thing that was left unsaid by Dad was the fact that the daughter isn’t just a daughter; she is also half-vested in his company. Now I’m wondering if Coleman won’t be forced to marry her anyway. This union would be a good one, especially if it keeps the daughter and daddy happy.
Parking in my spot, I gather my shit and unfold from the car. I glance around the parking garage and smirk at the sight of Coleman’s car already here. This meeting is going to be long and will probably include dinner and drinks, which is why we planned it after business hours. Not that anyone in the office would bat an eyelash at drinks and food during any kind of meeting.
But you never know in this kind of situation, especially with it being for illegal purposes, what will happen. So, we learned a long time ago not to hold them while the office was staffed.
I walk into the building and take the elevator to the top. The conference room is at the top level of the building. It overlooks the entire downtown area, and it’s one of the favorite locations. The elevator car rises slowly.
And as it does, I can’t help but think of Parker.
She didn’t seem so lost today, maybe a little out of it, but she appeared as though she was a little more relaxed. I’d like to think that I had something to do with that, but I haven’t even kissed her yet… but I will.
The doors to the elevator car open, and I step out into the hall. It’s quiet in here, but there is murmuring at the end of the walkway, and I know I’m likely the last person to arrive. I’m not late. Regardless, I’m sure my father will look at me with disapproval for being the last to enter.
