Page 59 of The Publicity Stunt
“I know, I know.” He lifts both his big palms on either side of his face. “One drink, we talk, then go home. Our respective homes.” There’s a sour emphasis onrespective. “What I meant was, get both and I’ll have the one you deem unfit.”
The bitch inside my brain goes awww. Our waitress approaches our table, wearing a black top and jeans, and she pulls an electronic tablet from her apron. “Hi! Have you decided on what you’d like? Or do you need a few more minutes?”
Parker orders a Heineken and I quickly run my eyes over the beer section on the bottom right. A Blue Moon, I tell her, and hand over the menu.
Just as she’s about to head inside, Parker speaks up. “Could we also get one Corpse Reviver and one Betty’s Ecstasy?” He isn’t even looking at the waitress. His eyes are set on me. Dark and unrelenting.
Carrie Underwood’s “Blown Away” replaces Hank Williams’s hokey country-western accent, and the second our waitress heads back inside, Parker attacks me with his next question. “So, how do you wanna do this?”
“I’m sorry?”
“As in, where do we start?” he clarifies. “It’s been eight years. I have a list of questions for you, Chere, as I’m sure you do too.”
“A list?” I repeat, baffled out of my mind. He has a list of questions?
“Not literally, April.” He laughs, obviously reading the sheer panic on my face. “Quite frankly, I just have the one.”
Somehow that doesn’t help with my elevated blood pressure. Just the one? Hell, I have more than just the one.
Why are you here?
Why are you a stunt double?
What happened to your Fireheart Chronicles?
Do you have a girlfriend?
Do you have a girlfriend?
“What is it?” My voice is meek and soft.
He is a mind reader. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
My eyes widen. “That’s your question?”
“That’s my only question, Chere.”
“Only question?”
He tilts his head and slowly brings a hand up, his broad fingers rifling through his thick brown waves. “Because it’s the only one that matters to me. If I’m going to win you back, I need to know whom or what I’m up against.”
The shock on my face is clearly palpable. I blink rapidly. “Win me back?”
“Too corny?”
“You’re not winning me back.”
Parker shrugs, still smirking. “We’ll see.”
He picks up the glass bottle and I don’t even realize I’ve gone back to staring at him. “Please don’t make me regret coming here.” I force my eyes elsewhere.
“I’m not forcing you to be with me, April,” he says. “But if you think I’m not even going to try to make you believe we still belong together, then you have another thing coming.”
“Parker, you said you just wanted to talk.”
“We’re talking.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
