Jack looked at the number on his phone and cringed. He knew it was only a matter of time before he would get this call, but he’d hoped it would take a little more time. “Dahlia,” he said, answering the phone, his voice gruff. “Hi Jack, how are you?” “I’m fine,” he replied. “Or at least I was until you called.” He was standing outside the Black Sheep building, pacing the courtyard. Maybe he should have ignored the call and dealt with it after work, not before he was about to spend another day in close proximity to Dianna. She had specified he needed to wear casual clothes today, which he didn’t understand. The whole ‘unknown’ thing really spiked his anxiety, not to mention the call he was currently on. “It’s been almost eighteen months, Jack. She would like to see her son.” Dahlia was Kara’s case worker. After Kara first abandoned Riley and then tried to kidnap him, Child Protective Services stepped in. It had been hell for Jack at the time, but he won full custody and they
“When Tara gets sucked into Faerieland, she’s cut off from the real world, but the bookseller, the man she first met in the bookshop, has the ability to send her help from his side of the gate. Some of that help will come from caches found in the real world by the gamers.” “Like Pokémon “Sort of, but not really,” she said and then shook her head. “I know it seems complicated, but it really isn’t. We’ve teamed up with an international geocaching service to place caches throughout the world. Players can download a mobile app on their phone and within each level of the game they have the opportunity to search for the caches and gather extra ammunition, health, weapons, etc. They don’t need to do the geocaching portion of the game, but it does give them some extra benefits.” “Okay, so when they find the cache, what do they find?” “We’ve put QR codes in the caches and when they scan them with their app, it will download the ‘treasure’ to their game and will also log the
Dianna leaned against the door and took a slow breath. It was good to be home. The tension she’d held in her shoulders all day long slowly released and she winced. It should feel good, but that’s not how her body worked. Letting the tension go also meant letting go of the barrier she put up to resist the constant pain she was in. It was the only way to get through the day, and some days were easier than others. This week had been pretty good, but she’d overdone it today. She’d been swept up in Jack’s enthusiasm for the geo-caching and pushed herself so as not to appear weak in front of him. But no good deed ever went unpunished, and now she would pay the price for her pride. Already she could feel the prickle of pain under her skin and the slow, insidious ache creeping up her neck to settle at the base of her head. She needed food and a cool bath. A hot bath would only aggravate the problem. Cool water would bring down her body temperature and, combined with the air conditio
“I can’t get this open,” she said. “I’m pretty sure some supervillain working in the canning factory took it upon himself to tighten all the jars so that no person in the world could open them.” Riley sniggered as Jack took the proffered bottle and opened it with a soft snick. Dianna was watching his arms, not the bottle. He may have flexed his biceps just a little. He was still a bloke, after all, and when a pretty woman was looking at him like that and asking him to use his muscles, who was he to deny her? Yeah, it was stupid and ridiculous, but he was standing in front of her practically naked, and…yeah…he didn’t know where he was going with that analogy. He held the bottle out to her, and she gingerly took it from him, their fingers brushing. “I’m making pasta,” she said. “Nothing exciting, just pasta and sauce.” She held up the jar and wiggled it. “But if you two haven’t had dinner yet, I have plenty and you’re welcome to join me.” Jack opened his mouth to answer, not e
Jack looked over the wine glass at Dianna. The light was low. It was late and Riley was asleep on the couch between them. The television was muted and flickering images cast moving shadows around the room. Dianna was sketching, and he was watching her while she sketched, wishing he had even an ounce of her talent that he could capture this quiet moment between them. He should go home. He should pick Riley up and carry him back to his own bed and then crawl into bed himself. That’s what he should do, but he couldn’t seem to make himself move. Dianna wore stretchy yoga pants and a loose t-shirt, her hair tied up on her head in a messy bun with long wayward curls framing her face. She had oversized glasses perched on the end of her nose and she bit the corner of her lip as she sketched, her pencil moving over the page with soft scritches. They’d spent the evening talking about everything and nothing. They talked about the game—swearing Riley to secrecy—but t
“Yes,” he said, and it took a moment for Dianna to realize he was talking about looking at her sketch and not her desire to mash his face against her boobs. She cleared her throat and turned the sketch pad around so he could see it. She watched his face as his eyes roamed over the page. There was…awe in his eyes as he took in his own likeness. “That’s…” She tried to turn it around, not quite confident that the next words out of his mouth would be complimentary. She would absolutely die if he said something so prosaic as ‘that’s cute,’ or, even worse, ‘that’s interesting.’ That was one of her mother’s favorite comments whenever Dianna showed Fran any of her work. It hurt less to just not show her anything and not open herself up to criticism. Jack reached out and grasped her wrist gently, stopping her from turning the sketchbook so he couldn’t see it. “Look, it’s rough, okay?” She said, trying to head off any of his ‘constructive’ criticism before it could hurt
Dianna stepped out of her apartment and froze. Jack and Riley were doing the same. She smiled. She still felt a little awkward after the night before and how they’d left things, but there was no more animosity between them. They crossed some sort of invisible line, which wasn’t an altogether bad thing. “Hey,” she said. “Hey,” he replied, smiling at her. Gah. Dianna didn’t think she would ever get used to his genuine smile pointed her way. She’d been too used to his scowl, and the change was disconcerting. “Hi Dianna,” Riley said. “Hey Riley,” she replied, dragging her eyes away from Jack and down to his son. “Thank you for dinner last night,” Riley said as they walked toward the elevator. “It was yum.” Dianna didn’t know about that, but at least it wasn’t terrible. “Thanks, Riley,” Dianna said. The doors to the elevator opened and Jack motioned for her to go in ahead of him. This was the first time they’d left at the same time since they’d been working together. An
“The numbers were supposed to be revised the idiot said. “Not up. You do know the difference, don’t you? Or do I need to show it to you on a game controller?” “You do know that you aren’t my superior, right?” Dianna snapped back. “You do know I don’t answer to you?” “If you want the money for this little party of yours, then actually, I am your superior. I’m the one who will decide whether this thing goes ahead.” “You would stop the launch party because you think I’ve ordered too much champagne?” Dianna asked, and Jack could hear the derision in her voice. “You doubled the order,” the jackass barked. “And you did it just to piss me off. You think after you got your little boyfriend to stick up for you, you could play games with me? I wasn’t born yesterday.” “If you bothered to read the email attached to the figures I sent you, then you would know the reason I increased the order. You might also take note I copied Mason in on the email because he was the one who asked me to includ
6 months later“Are you ready for this?” Anthony asked as they stood outside the courtroom. Talia nodded and gripped Parker’s hand. The judge had called them back in for the verdict on Mark’s trial and she couldn’t deny she was nervous. The weeks spent preparing for the trial and then sitting through the witness statements and being cross-examined by an aggressive defense attorney who made her out to be some sort of diva and ungrateful bitch who was somehow ripping off the father who had done everything for her had taken its toll. And the media beat-up was just as bad. However, not all the media had been on her father’s side. Talia had discovered she had far more supporters than she’d thought. Her fans—the true fans—had gathered in force to support her and she loved them for it. Not enough for her to consider going back into acting, but enough that going through the trial had been bearable. But if not for the constant and unwavering support of Parker, Talia didn’t think she woul
Parker rolled his eyes as he took her hand and stood. “Seal the deal?” “Isn’t that what you said earlier?” He shook his head, his grin still in place. “No, I said celebrate.” “Okay, good. Let’s do that then.” Parker grabbed her and lifted her up, making Talia squeal. He kissed her and she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders. Stumbling, he carried her to the bedroom and tossed her on the bed with a flourish, making her squeal again. “I feel like we need champagne and strawberries or something,” Parker said, standing with his hands on his hips as he looked around the room. “You mean like pouring champagne in my belly button and licking it out?” Talia asked, lifting her shirt to reveal her navel. Parker cocked an eyebrow. “Hmm…that’s something to think about for a later celebration,” he said. Talia pouted. Parker held up his hands. “I don’t have any champagne on hand,” he protested. “Then I’ll just have to
“You called Isaac,” Parker said when he walked into the apartment. Talia looked up at him and bit her lip. “I did,” she said. “But before you get mad, I didn’t say anything about what happened. And I did it because I knew you wouldn’t say anything to defend yourself.” Parker sighed. “I’m not mad,” he said, walking over to where she was seated, working on her miniature diorama. He leaned down and kissed her. “I’m grateful. Thank you. What you said to Isaac helped.” Talia grinned up at him. “So, they’re going to let you do the article?” Parker nodded. “They are.” “That’s so great,” Talia replied. “So it all worked out.” Parker pulled out a chair and sat down beside her. “Things have worked out for me, but what about you? What are your plans now? Without Mark controlling your every move, you can do anything you want.” Talia dropped her head and fidgeted with her fingers in her lap. “I don’t know what I want to do,” she said quietly. “I don’t think I wan
Talia pulled back from the kiss. “Don’t you think it was pretty selfish of me not to sacrifice myself for you?” she asked. “No,” he said, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear. “What you did wasn’t selfish, it was survival. There’s a difference. Me expecting you to sacrifice yourself for my job would have been selfish. Are you doing what you need to in order to survive? Not selfish. Not in the slightest.” “It feels selfish,” she mumbled, leaning her forehead against his. “I feel like I need to do something to make it up to you.” Parker cupped her face. “Talia,” he whispered. “This is not some quid pro quo thing. There will be times when you will save me. I have no doubt about it. That’s how relationships work. It’s swings and roundabouts. There is no big tally sheet in the sky and nobody is keeping score.” “I just don’t want you to feel resentful—” Parker cut off the rest of her sentence with a kiss. “How could I be resentful of the fact that I get to have you in my l
“She’s asleep,” Parker said, coming into the living room from his bedroom where Talia had finally succumbed to sleep. He slumped onto the couch beside Stephen and laid his head on his father’s shoulder. Anthony looked over at him from where he was sitting, going through some paperwork on his laptop, and Carter paced, not able to sit still. “I take it the article came out,” Parker said. “Yeah,” Carter replied with a sigh as he raked his hand through his hair. “It’s going to do us some damage,” Parker said. “Maybe,” Carter said with a shrug. “Maybe not.” Parker frowned at him. “What does that mean?” “It gets your name out there,” he replied. “It will drive people to your blog.” “Fucking hell, Carter,” Parker exploded, jumping to his feet. “Seriously? You think this is a good thing?” “I didn’t say that,” Carter replied. “I just said it wasn’t necessarily damaging to us.” “And what about Parker asked. “The article would have tanked that de
Anthony had filed a police report as soon as he arrived in the city. “Their hands are tied,” Anthony said with a sigh. “There is no evidence of force and as she recently hid from the public because of a scandal, we have nothing to say she isn’t doing it again because of the latest issue.” “But can’t they force her to at least speak with them? To check that she’s okay?” Parker asked. “As far as they’re concerned, she has just gone into hiding again,” Anthony reiterated. “Until we have something to say otherwise, they can’t do anything. This has the potential to be a high-profile case because of who she is, so if they make a big deal about it and it turns out to be something innocent, it might blow up in their faces.” “That’s bullshit,” Parker growled, pushing up from his seat to pace around the room. He hated that he was sitting there doing nothing while Talia was trapped in her father’s house. It was torture to know where she was and yet not be able to get to
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Talia said. After Mark’s big reveal the night before, Talia had been left to sleep off the effects of the sedative he’d given her. The fucking bastard. He’d locked her door so she couldn’t get out and the window was too far from the ground for her to escape that way. Not without breaking something, anyway. Which Talia wouldn’t have minded, except with the way she’d been feeling, the thing that got broken might very well be her head, and she was kind of attached to it being in one piece and remaining on her shoulders. So Mark had stalked her and Parker and then kidnapped her and drugged her and imprisoned her and he was under the impression that he was perfectly within his rights to do so. “I’m doing this for you,” Mark said. “Your mental health is at stake here.” “The only threat to my mental health is your arsehole behavior,” Talia snapped. They were sitting in the sunny kitchen at the table and Mark was trying to pretend that it
Carter clicked his fingers. “The original photos, the ones that were taken when you took her out to look at the miniature street art.” Carter turned to Parker. “You were in some of those photos. Your face was blurred, but that could have been done after the fact.” “So he’s been following me?” Parker asked. “You and Carter. Both would be my guess,” Jack said. “So he’s been following us, but how did he know I was sending a car to pick her up?” Parker asked. “Have you noticed anyone following you?” Carter asked. Parker shook his head and then paused. “What?” Carter asked. “What’s that look?” “It’s probably nothing,” Parker said. “Just say it,” Carter said. “I was speaking to Talia just before I went into the meeting he said. “When I hung up from the call, I bumped into a guy…you don’t think…nah. It can’t be. This isn’t some espionage movie.” “Could he have overheard your conversation?” Jack asked, leaning back in his chair and looking up
Parker was on a high. By all accounts, Atticus was on board with his proposal. Isaac just wanted to check in with the rest of the band before giving him a definitive answer. That was fine with Parker. Things would go much more smoothly if everyone was in agreement. The last thing he wanted was a hostile environment and if any of the members had misgivings about the proposal, then he would walk away. It would hurt, but he would do it. For this to work—for everyone involved—there had to be open communication and a willingness to participate. Without that, Parker may as well give up now. He climbed into his car, cursing the parking ticket and flapping on his windscreen. Getting out again, he grabbed it from under the windscreen wiper and shoved it into his glove compartment. The Playbook could pay for that. It was the price of doing business, after all. He turned the music up loud as he navigated through the heavy traffic toward his apartment building. He couldn’t wait to tell Ta