Kickin' It (Red Card #2)(32)

“It’s a possibility.”

“With Parker.”

“Maybe?”

“You don’t shop.”

“She needed to feel confident, and God knows what you sent her away with.”

“My best Gucci, the one I wore last New Year’s!”

“The little black number that looks like training tape? Right.” I rolled my eyes. “Look, we’re low on time. She’s wearing the new Versace—”

“The white cocktail Versace with capped sleeves and a crystal-beaded scalloped bodice? The one on preorder?”

“Yes?”

“Get me one.”

“Willow!”

“Uh, fine, you’re going to want to pair it with the Valentino slingback pumps, in a nude color or even something darker. They have studs, they’re low, she won’t trip, but it’s going to cost you another grand. Okay, love you, bye!”

“What did she say?” Parker had her hands on her hips expectantly.

“That she has the perfect shoes.” I chuckled. “What else?”

“Of course she does.”

“And our dinner just got moved up, so let’s grab your clothes and have LaLa grab your shoes. Sound good?”

She looked ready to puke. “Yup, great!”

I pulled out my credit card.

Parker put her hand on my wrist. “I’ll pay you back.”

LaLa approached, and I shook my head and handed her my card, fired off the name of the shoes, and didn’t take my eyes off Parker. “It’s a gift.”

“For what?”

“Just think of it as a presigning bonus, because trust me, I’m going to get you one. Why not celebrate early?”

“You’re a miracle, Matt Kingston.” She looped her arm in mine.

I smiled down at her, then kissed her cheek.

Completely without thinking.

I stunned myself probably as much as I stunned her.

But LaLa was already back with two boxes, and I was letting Parker go, wondering why that was getting harder and harder each time.





Chapter Sixteen

PARKER

I wanted to hold his hand.

But I would die before admitting it.

I was wearing a dress that made me feel like a princess—powerful, confident, renewed. I would never confess it to anyone, least of all the man who made me feel worthy of wearing it, when I’d been a mess on the inside for so long.

A barrage of thoughts struck me when I saw the way he looked at me in the dress, the biggest one being that this could be more than a fresh start for my career. It could be a fresh start for everything. He looked at me like I belonged next to him, in this world, and for the first time in months I had hope. I could kiss him for giving me that opportunity, I would marry him in this dress and never look back.

And that’s when I realized I was slowly pulling down the walls I’d erected and succumbing to Matt Kingston and his smiles, the way his eyes crinkled, the way he touched me like he was afraid I would break.

Or maybe afraid he would too.

The shoes were perfect, I’d never worn Valentino before; they were nude with a kitten heel, and were studded, which made me feel like a rock star. All in all, they were too expensive for me to purchase on my own, but if I had the money they would one hundred percent be what I would pick out for myself.

I kept staring at them as we walked, which meant he basically had to carry me into the lobby.

My feet didn’t feel huge and awkward, and as our nice driver took our bags in to the bellhop, I looked down one last time and smiled.

“Matt Kingston.” Matt gave his name to the restaurant host.

“Lovely,” the woman said, beaming. “Your companions are already here, shall I take you?”

“Wait!” I blurted, grabbing Matt’s elbow, holding us both in place.

“I’ll just give you a minute.” She winked.

“What if I yell at someone?” I wondered out loud, my eyes searching his, begging for some of his confidence to trickle down through our connection and give me strength. “What if I spill my water? What if—”

“Stop,” he said a bit harshly. I almost backed up. And then he said, “If you yell, I’ll yell too. I’ll make them think that we can’t hear them. If you spill your water, I’ll just have to spill my wine—the point is, you don’t walk in there by yourself, you walk in there with me.”

“My agent.” I nodded. “My coach.”

His face hardened a bit. “Your friend.”

And then he offered me his elbow.

I knew it would be wrong to ask for his hand.

But I wanted it. Needed it.

However, I knew they’d get the wrong idea.

I hated that people cared about things they had no business caring about. But I took the olive branch, the peace he offered, and placed my hand on his elbow. I held my head high. I’d put on some powder and mascara in the car, added a deep red to my lips, and called it good.

I knew how to do makeup, I just didn’t see the point when I would sweat it all off.

I took another deep breath as we weaved through table after table until we reached a back booth. It was near the kitchen and seemed to be private, which was good. Private was good.

I smiled as one of the men turned. He had silver hair and a mustache that was still dark. His smile was friendly, and he was wearing an LA Rams baseball cap.