Playing Dirty (Risky Business, #2)(39)
“I’m fine. I just didn’t expect the, uh, door to, uh, open that quick.” Gee? What did you think it’d do when you pulled the handle? Good lord, I was spouting inane bullshit, but he was already rounding the car to my side.
“Here, let me take your purse,” he said, lifting the strap from my shoulder. “Lean on me.”
No, no, no. Bad idea.
“I’m okay,” I insisted, heading for the door to the building. And it would have been a good exit, if my vision wasn’t blurry and I missed the door handle by a mile when I reached for it. I heard a soft chuckle behind me.
“Yes, I can see you’re perfectly capable when you’re drugged up,” he said, reaching around me to pull open the door.
I chose not to dignify that with an answer, and not because I had to concentrate too hard on where I put my feet as I walked down the hall to be able to form a coherent reply.
There were two sets of elevator buttons when I knew for a fact there should be only one. I hoped I was picking the real and not the ghost illusion when I pressed the button, and I let out a relieved huff of breath when I saw the correct circle light up.
“See?” I said, leaning against the wall. “I’m fi—” The wall moved and I lost my balance, toppling back into the elevator as the doors opened. Huh. I’d thought for sure that had been a wall …
Parker snagged me around the waist before I could fall, then helped me into the elevator the correct way … on one’s feet.
“My, what fast reflexes you have, Mr. Anderson,” I said, the words just popping out. I frowned. It seemed the medicine was not only making me groggy and see double, but had messed with the filter between my brain and mouth.
“Now that’s one I haven’t heard before,” he said, helping me out of the elevator. His arm was still around my waist and I wanted to move away, but I also didn’t want to end up on my ass.
“Comments about his speed usually aren’t something a man wants to hear from a woman,” he quipped.
I let out a very unladylike snort at the joke, then tried to swallow my laughter. Parker had just made a sex joke. This day was just full of firsts. The first time Parker made a sex joke, the first time I’d been high on painkillers around my boss, the first time I’d nearly gotten run over by a truck …
Okay, that last one wasn’t funny at all.
By now, Parker was holding my purse up for me while I dug around in it for my keys. I’d yet to meet a man who wanted to brave the contents of a woman’s purse, no matter how justified. It was taking too long, but he just stood there, patiently holding the knockoff Michael Kors.
At last, I triumphantly produced the keys. “Got ’em!” Then proceeded to immediately drop them on the floor. “Oops.”
Parker grabbed them before I could contemplate how to bend over without falling over, and unlocked the door. I followed him inside, really glad to be home. Heading for the couch, I plopped down on it and kicked off my shoes while Parker turned on a couple of lamps.
“You’ve got to be hungry,” he said. “What do you want to eat? I’ll go get it for you.”
I tipped my head back on the sofa and looked up at where he stood behind the couch. He touched my hair again, moving it aside from my neck to my shoulder.
“Aren’t I usually the one making the runs for take-out?”
His features softened with a small smile. “I’ll make an exception. Just this once. Don’t tell anyone.”
“That you’re really not a jerk?” I asked. Oops. Probably shouldn’t have said that either, but his smile only widened.
“Is that what people say about me?” he asked.
“Not everyone,” I hedged. “People know you’re very … dedicated to your job.” Which was true. Parker was respected at KLP, and most had a healthy fear of screwing up and getting on his radar. He dealt mainly with clients, so if Parker had to take time out of his busy schedule because of a personnel issue, it wasn’t pretty.
“That’s why I have you,” he said. “You’re my human credential.”
“I’m your what?” I’d never heard that before. I twisted around so I could stop looking at him upside down.
“People know you’re as sweet as can be, always nice and helpful. So if you can work for me and not quit your job—or kill me—then I can’t be that bad, right? My human credential.”
“Huh.” I hadn’t ever thought of it that way, but it was true. I’d had the impression people had feared Parker a lot before I’d begun working there, but now things were better, though everyone still came through me if they wanted to see him.
“So what do you want to eat?”
I thought about it. “Pizza. Lots of cheese.”
Twenty minutes later, I’d changed into yoga pants and a T-shirt and Parker was handing money to the delivery guy. The smell of fresh-baked pizza wafted through the apartment. I went to get off the couch and winced.
“Sore?” Parker asked, setting the box down on the coffee table.
I nodded as he sat down next to me. “Yeah. Everywhere. I guess my whole body just tensed up when I saw that truck coming.” That plus getting kicked around in the nightclub last night, which I definitely wasn’t going to tell him about.
He handed me a plate with three slices of pizza dripping cheese.