Jessica’s [POV]
Dani and I don’t talk at all in the cab on our way back home, but when we enter our apartment, I decide to drop all pretense of not having an interest in Parker.
I wait until both of us have changed, and when I go to her room to return the dress and the cape, I say, “Dani, I want you to tell me everything you know about Parker.” Dani, who’s already sitting on her bed, dressed in a nightgown, grins. I lean on the doorway with my arms crossed over my chest.
“Hmm, let’s see,” she says, faking to be thinking hard. “He grew up in England and went to the same boarding school as James.” She frowns. “I think they went to the same boarding school only in high school. Not sure before. Anyway, he was sent to boarding school when he was eight.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s a young age to be sent away from home.”
Dani flips her hand. “Nah, it’s pretty common in our family. James was only sent there when he was eleven because his mom couldn’t be convinced to do it earlier. She didn’t let me go at all,” she adds gloomily as if she deeply regrets it. “So, afterward, he went to Oxford. At some point, he got involved with my brother in business. You already know he spent a few months in the US this year, working with my brother. That’s actually when I got to know him more, but I can’t say I know him. He doesn’t talk about himself, you know? But man, he acts like he knows me so well. Who knows what James told him,” she mumbles, clearly annoyed. “He seems to have taken over babysitting me.”
I smile, distinctly remembering James telling me over the phone that Parker was kind enough to agree to look after Dani closely. Now that my ego has over Parker rejecting me, I can think more clearly about those weeks in the aftermath of my accident. How he came by to make sure I had everything I needed, how he made me laugh. He made me angry too-constantly reminding me that I should be more responsible. But that only made me angry because I knew he was right. I might not know much about Parker, but I do know this: he’s kind and caring. And smoking hot. And skilled with his fingers. Which makes me wonder what else he might be skilled with.
“Not much of a help, am I?” Dani asks.
“Not really,” I admit.
“You can always Google him.”
“What? I could never do that.”
Dani raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“It would just feel . . . wrong.”
Judging by Dani’s look of complete bewilderment, it feels anything but wrong to her.
“What could I possibly find about him anyway?” I ask.
Dani snorts. “Tons, I bet.”
“Why?”
“He comes from one of the richest families in England. The press here is obsessed with them.”
“How come? I bet there are plenty of other rich families.”
Dani hesitates, and slides under her covers before answering. “Well, last year his brother had some major problems with his business. And Parker’s dad died when Parker was seven, in a hunting accident.”
“Oh, that is very unfortunate,” I barely manage to say, shaken. “I’ll let you sleep. Do you want me to turn off your light?”
“Sure, thanks,” Dani says, eyeing me closely.
“Good night.”
I turn off her light and then walk to my room, suddenly feeling dizzy. My laptop is next to my bed, and I stare at it for a few minutes from the doorway.
Then I grab it, and sit on my bed cross-legged, trying to ignore my rumbling stomach. It takes some time for my old laptop to start. I look for an ashtray in the meantime and light up a cigarette. I almost decide to give up on the whole thing, because it still feels wrong. Just typing his name in Google feels like I’m breaking some unseen barrier. As Google lists the first results, I realize I don’t even know what I’m looking for. Not anything about his family history. As far as I’m concerned, memories about family bullshit belong buried somewhere deep, deep inside one’s brain, where no one ever has access. Hell, I wish I didn’t have access to all my memories. I can only imagine how Parker feels about his. No, I’m not looking for anything about his family. I’m looking for something that tells me Parker is the passionate yet tender man I came to know tonight. But Google, my faithful companion when it came to assignments during my college years, disappoints.
I get page after page of info on Parker’s brother, Robert. I skip most of them, but can’t help noticing the headlines seem to be more than six months old, nothing very recent. What I find is mostly gossip about Robert hooking up with one socialite or another. What little I find about Parker concerns business, mostly. He’s thirty-one years old, which I knew.
He’s not only involved in James’s businesses but also several others here
in England. I don’t understand what his involvement is, but I make a mental note to ask him the next time I see him. I stopped for a second, wondering how he could just leave everything behind and move to California for six months. One article states that Parker recently took over Blakesley Enterprises, a mining equipment company that belongs to his family, which his brother had been running for years before Parker took over.
There’s almost nothing about Parker’s private life. There is virtually nothing about him during his college years. There are some pictures of Parker in recent years, attending various public events. He’s never photographed alone, but the two or three women who appear in rotation by his side are always the same. Two of them were his cousins, and I learned one was an old friend. No socialites like his brother. No scandals. One article says, “Give us something worth writing about for once, Parker.” Another calls him Britain’s mystery man.
I close my laptop. Parker is as much a mystery as he was before. I grab my phone to set the alarm, which is when I notice a message from him.
Parker: Asleep?
He sent it fifteen minutes ago, but I replied anyway.
Jess: No.
I expect him to type back, but he calls instead.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey. How come you’re not sleeping?”
“Dani and I started chatting, and then… I googled you.”
“Find anything interesting?”
“Nope. You’re just as mysterious as ever.”
He laughs softly. “I like keeping you on your toes.”
“Were you eight when you were sent to boarding school?”
“Yes… it’s quite common here. In my family at least.” He sounds a little sad all of a sudden, and I don’t want that, so I switch the subject.
“So… what’s it going to take to make you less of a mystery?”
“Seeing me more often would be a start.”
“You… you want that?”
“I’m a stick-in-the-mud, order-obsessed guy and you’re the opposite, and I have no clue what I’m doing here. But I like being around you, and you like being around me.”
He pauses as if waiting for confirmation.
“Assuming, aren’t we?” I think he can hear that I said the words with a grin.
“After tonight, I have no doubts.”
“Ah! Well, I’m the one who will keep you on your toes now. I will neither confirm nor deny that.”
He laughs whole-heartedly. “I’m glad you moved to London, Jess.”
“And I’m glad you’re saying that. But I have to go to bed now. I have to wake up early.”
“Take care.”
“I will.”