International Guy: Milan, San Francisco, Montreal (International Guy Volumes Book 2) Page 2

  This last question has me grinding my teeth as I push through the mayhem to get to where the hired drivers are standing. One of them has a sign that says “International Guy.”

  “Who’s the guy with you? Is he your bodyguard?” one of the paps yells.

  “Yeah, motherfucker, and if you so much as touch him, you’ll see a world of hurt. Back off!” Bo yells back as he grabs my arm and pushes with his other arm. We leave our luggage at the exit door in order to push through the bodies.

  I can barely see through the explosion of camera flashes, but Bo leads the way.

  He gets me into the car, then slams the door and pushes back through the paps. After a few minutes he returns with both of our suitcases, passing them off to the driver to put in the trunk.

  As Bo opens the door, the flashes start up again as the paps try to get any image they can.

  When he finally gets in, he flops against the seat. “Holy fuck, man. Is this the shit Skyler goes through?”

  I nod. “Worse when she’s expected. This is tame compared to what I’ve seen her experience. The crowd at the castle for the wedding was her normal fanfare.”

  “Jesus. Poor thing.” He runs a hand through his tousled dark hair. “You calling her?”

  I take a deep breath. “Yeah, I want to be at the office in private.”

  “She tried to call you?”

  I purse my lips and shake my head.

  “Say what?”

  “Not sure what’s going on with her. It was weird when I left Copenhagen. After Sophie woke me up—”

  “Wait, Sophie came by your room before Sky left?”

  “Yeah. Wanted to say goodbye since I’m not going to see her for a while.”

  “And you say Skyler got wiggy that same morning?” Bo cants his head.

  I shrug. “I guess so, yeah.”

  “Brother, you can’t be this dense.”

  “Excuse me?” I jerk my head to the side and focus on my friend.

  “Sophie’s hot and confident, man. We made sure of it.”

  “So?”

  Bo lets out a long breath. “And you’ve slept with her.”

  “Not saying anything I don’t already know.” I grind my teeth together, wishing he’d get to the point.

  “And you’re sleeping with Skyler.”

  “Once again . . .”

  “She’s weirded out about your relationship with Sophie, man. Jesus, you’re dumb.” Bo shakes his head.

  I sigh. “Nah, we talked about Sophie.”

  “When?”

  “After the wedding. It’s all good. She knows Sophie’s just a friend.”

  Bo snorts obnoxiously. “Yeah, a friend you were fucking not too long ago.”

  I frown and rub the back of my neck. “You think she’s trippin’ about Sophie even after we talked?”

  “Uh . . . yeah. I think she’s all twisted up about it. And then Sophie wakes you up, pulling you out of bed to say goodbye? Girl probably eavesdropped on your convo, dude. I know I would if I were all gaga over a chick and she was shooting the shit with her girl, and I wanted to know where I stood.”

  “Huh. I mean, makes sense. And now this . . . Fuck. She’s never going to talk to me again.”

  Bo frowns. “You that much of a dickwad in the sack?”

  Instinct overrides my common sense, and I automatically punch him in the chest, but not as hard as I can. “Fuck you!”

  He rubs at the spot, wincing. “Ugh . . .”

  “I take care of my woman,” I snarl.

  He fires back his response. “Does she know she’s your woman, or does she think she’s your good-time gal?”

  “We have fun together, man. We both agree it’s casual.”

  Bo widens his legs and leans back into the leather of the limo seat, making himself more comfortable. “Never met a woman in my life who touches base daily by phone, spends three full weeks with a guy, flies across the world to attend a wedding with him, only sees him and no one else since you hooked up, and still considers herself in a”—he makes air quotes—“‘casual relationship.’”

  The man has a point. A huge one.

  “Brother, why are you so set that this thing with Skyler is casual? If casual were the case, you’d be banging chicklets. Since I know you’re not, and you’re hung up on a sexy blonde actress with a great rack and a smokin’ hot ass—”

  “Easy, brother . . .”

  He grins cheekily and winks. “Point is, you’re already in a romantic relationship with her. Now your shit has hit the public eye, and you need to figure out how the two of you are going to handle it. You feel me?”

  Crap. I’m in a romantic relationship with Skyler Paige.

  I need to talk to her. Immediately.

  The only problem is . . . What could I ever possibly say to make this situation any better?

  2

  Wendy bum-rushes the door to the IG offices the second Bo and I walk in dragging our luggage behind us.

  “Parker, I’m so sorry. I honestly can’t believe I didn’t look at the file before sending. I . . . I . . . don’t know what else to say.” Her crystal-blue eyes are glassy, and her nose is tinged with red, but she swallows and firms her spine, showing she’s trying her best to keep it together.

  I hold out my arms wide in response. Without waiting a moment, feisty, ball-busting Wendy throws herself into my embrace. I hug her tight, her spindly body trembling slightly.

  “Park . . . I messed up.” Her words are but a whisper as she looks up at me. “It won’t happen again.”

  I cup her cheek and give it a little pat. “See that it doesn’t, minxy.” I wink and hug her tight once more.

  She rests her face against my chest and sighs before clearing her throat and pulling back. “Okay. I’m assuming damage control is step one?”

  “Yeah. First, I have a very important call to make. And I can’t be disturbed until I’m done.” I cock a brow for emphasis.

  She points her finger toward my chest. “Got it. And so you know, I’ve already been on several calls with Skyler’s agent and BFF, Tracey. She has a pretty good plan, if I do say so myself, but it’s totally up to you. Not sure what the four one one is on you and Skyler since you’ve not been in the office lately, and there’s only so much you can get from cyberstalking . . .”

  I frown. “You’ve been cyberstalking me?”

  She crinkles her nose. “Uh, yeah. I’d be a shitty hacker if I didn’t keep tabs on all three of you. Though this scoundrel”—she hooks her thumb over her shoulder toward Bo—“has me going in circles over the number of women he enters into his phone, not to mention the ones he sleeps with, and then I have to interface with them when they call, stop by, and just plain physically stalk him.” She shakes her head. “Serves you right, man whore.”

  Bo chuckles. “Jealous, Tink?”

  She huffs. “As if. I’m so far out of your league, you’re still batting at balls on a stick while Sir Mick is hitting home runs at every turn.”

  “One day . . . you just wait. I’ll have you under me,” Bo teases.

  “Only if I’m dead and you’re into that sort of thing.”

  I shake my head and leave them to their bickering. It’s all in good fun, but honestly, I wish they’d give it a rest once in a while. I swear they need a referee.

  As I enter my office, I find Royce placing something on my desk.

  “Yo! Long time no see, brother!” Roy pulls me to his chest and gives me a few slaps on the back. “Brother. Missed your ugly mug around here. Though I don’t foresee you being home long unless you want to punt the next gig to me.”

  I go around to the front of my desk and sit in my cushy chair. The leather molds to my ass instantly, and I sigh at the goodness of being home. “What’s on next?”

  “Fashion designer in Milan. Needs you and Bo to work your magic on their lineup of models. Apparently, they booked women who’ve never modeled before because their look fit the campaign.”

  I clap my hands and p
ut my elbows on my desk. “They want us to teach women how to model? Doesn’t really sound much like our gig.”

  He smiles wide, his bright, even teeth shining. “’S’what I said. Then they told me the campaign is for erotic lingerie. Shit changes color when the lights go out. Glows in the dark, has flashing lights. All kinds of kinkiness. So, what they’re looking for is someone to teach them how to be sexy and flaunt their goods . . . big time. They have women of all types, and apparently, it’s a cutting-edge new thing.”

  “When do they need us?”

  “Couple of weeks from now, ten days would be better.”

  Ten days.

  I just got back from being in Copenhagen for the better part of three weeks, New York for the same, and now it looks as though I’m heading to Milan. Sweet Jesus. I’m going to need a break.

  “Can’t score any clients in the States, eh?”

  Roy laughs full and deep, his head tipping back with the effort. “Got one in the hopper for San Francisco.”

  I run my hand through my hair and tug at the roots. “Roy, that’s still three thousand miles away. It might as well be Paris!”

  He shrugs. “Business is business, right? We’re a hot commodity right now. We have so many clients on the waiting list, I’m only taking the top-dollar ones for full travel and the ones we can work from here in between.”

  I nod. “All right. We’ll talk about it more later. For now, I gotta call Sky. She’s probably shitting a brick about the media shit storm since those pics went live.”

  Royce sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Shee-it. I saw them pics, brother. Hot as hell. Happy you’re with Skyler.” He shakes his head. “A high-profile actress. Who would’ve thought you’d nail down an A-lister?”

  “Sure as hell not me.” I pick up my landline, signaling I need to use the phone and Roy needs to head out.

  “Don’t fuck it up,” he cautions.

  I disconnect the line, still holding the receiver. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugs. “I’ve known you a long time. You’re good at self-sabotage. If she’s a good woman, a woman who deserves your undivided attention, give it to her. We’re not getting any younger. Every day I notice it more and more.”

  I tilt my head. “You wanting to settle down?” I’m not able to hold back the shocked tone in my voice.

  “If the right woman came along . . . sassy, smart mouth, can handle my brand of control, great dresser, loves her family, loyal, knows how to eat, how to treat a man, intelligent, with a side dose of bootylicious junk in the trunk . . . shoot. Magic. I’d drop to my knees and propose in a second.”

  I’m pretty sure my eyes are as wide as Frisbees. “Seriously?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Respect.”

  He gives me a chin dip. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  When Royce hits the door, I call out to him. “Roy.” He turns around, his navy suit pristine, the fine-striped white-and-blue collared shirt starched to perfection. I smirk. “Missed your face too.”

  He grins wide. “Don’t I know it. There’s an awful lot of good to miss.”

  He waves over his shoulder and, smooth as silk, walks out of my office.

  Damn, the brother has some serious fucking swagger. Would make a lesser man jealous, but I’ve known him forever and love him like my own family. Jealousy isn’t something that typically rears its ugly head between me and my chosen brothers. Thank God.

  Ready to take the heat, but more than that, ready to hear her voice, I pick up the phone and dial Skyler.

  She picks up on the first ring.

  “Be honest with me . . . Did I mean anything to you? Anything at all?” Her voice cracks with pain, a splitting of the earth; cutting the building straight down the center would have hurt less.

  “Sky . . . fuck. It was an accident. Wendy didn’t know—”

  “I asked you a simple question, Parker. Just one. Give me an answer.” Her words are tight, controlled.

  I swallow down the dryness in my throat. “Skyler, you mean more to me than any woman in the past decade. Those pictures getting out were an error. Baby, you have to believe me.”

  “Why, when every man I’ve trusted in the past has destroyed me? I opened my soul to you—”

  “And I do not take your gift lightly,” I fire off instantly, because I don’t take it lightly. I know what it cost her.

  Her sobs tear through the line and cut me one slice at a time, digging deeper and deeper into my heart. My chest is moving, but I’m not sure I’m breathing.

  “Peaches, you know me.” I try to reach the place inside her that connects so completely with mine when we’re together, but over the phone, it’s a stretch. A big one.

  “What do I know? I know you gave me you . . . for three weeks. Then you took it away. And of course, there’s Sophie. The other woman you gave yourself to. Your client. What am I to believe? Is part of your service bedding your clients?” she hisses, anger and blame in her tone.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Isn’t it? You admitted to screwing Sophie. How many other clients have you taken to bed, whispered sweet nothings to?”

  “Only two,” I grit through my teeth, not wanting to have this conversation but knowing if I don’t, I could lose her forever. “And Sophie is a friend,” I try to remind her.

  She laughs, the sound bitter and brittle. “Then what am I?”

  “So much more.”

  “Right. If that’s true, then lay it out for me. What am I to you, Parker? I mean, oh mighty Dream Maker!” She throws my marketing title in my face.

  I grit my teeth, close my eyes, and lay it the fuck out for my infuriating woman.

  “You are the woman who occupies my days and nights with nothing but thoughts of your smile. I dream of being with you, sleeping next to you. I imagine your lips and lick my own wishing for a tiny taste. I anticipate the next time we’ll be together and what new adventures we’ll undertake. There is no one I’d rather spend time getting lost with. Toss us anywhere in the world, and I know we’ll have a blast. The simple memory of your scent makes my mouth water. And don’t get me started on your body. It’s downright dangerous. I want you constantly. Your mind, your sexy body, your goddamned soul. Is that enough for you, or do you want more?” I growl out, angry she’s forcing my hand, making me spill my guts just to keep her in my life.

  We both stop speaking for a solid minute, though I can hear her breathing.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she says softly.

  I close my eyes, relief filling every recess of my mind. I’ve gotten through. My girl is coming back.

  “Skyler . . . fuck. I wish I were there with you right now.”

  “I do too. Why does everything have to be so hard?”

  I smile. “Well, Peaches, you’re exceptionally talented, and the world wants a piece of you. Though I can’t blame them, because I always want a piece. Hell, I want the whole pie.”

  She giggles.

  Giggles.

  “Christ, I miss the sound of your giggle.” I sit back in my chair and spin around to my view, enjoying the familiar buildings, the water, and the horizon. It’s good to be home.

  “I do not giggle.”

  “You sure as hell do, and it’s cute.”

  “Whatever.” She says this as though she’s affronted, but I know she’s not. Never say die. It’s part of her charm.

  “Peaches, baby, I hate to bring this back to an uncomfortable place, but what do you want to do about the media and the pictures?”

  She groans. “Tracey has been up my ass about it.”

  “What does she think we should do?”

  “Trace wants us to make a combined statement to the press.”

  “Saying what?”

  “We’re a couple. We’re in a relationship, and we’re happy as clams.”

  “And . . .” I need to hear what she thinks about this plan before I respond. As I’m learning, women are fickle, and any mo
ve or word could be the wrong one. I don’t want to go backward now that I’ve got her talking to me.

  I can hear rustling and a door opening. “I’m going to need another minute,” she says to someone other than me.

  “Okay, sweetheart, I can wait on the couch.” A man’s voice.

  On the couch.

  Sweetheart.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Hmm?” she mutters distractedly. “Oh, it’s Rick. We have to get on set and he was sent to get me.”

  Rick the Prick.

  Perfect timing, buddy.

  With my loss of control pushing me forward, Rick the Prick getting to be near my girl when I can’t pushes the green-eyed monster within me to blurt out, “Do it.”

  “Huh? What? Do it?” she repeats with uncertainty.

  “Tell the press we’re a couple.” I clench my teeth, and my heart starts pounding a wild drumbeat against my chest. The phone I’m holding digs into my fist, heat building around my hand and crawling up my forearm.

  “Parker . . . you said to keep what we have casual. Fun.”

  I lick my lips, wishing I could hold her face in my hands while having this conversation. It feels like such a big step to take over the phone.

  Unfortunately it will have to do—for now.

  “Peaches, I know what I said. I meant it. Then. Now, after the way you left, the long flight, seeing our private pictures splashed across the papers and magazines, I don’t know. Maybe it woke me up. I’m not sure. All I know is I want to be with you. Really be with you.”

  “I want to be with you too,” she whispers, a beautiful note of glee in her tone.

  “God, I wish I could kiss you right now. Firsts should always be sealed with a kiss.”

  She laughs heartily this time, and I love it more than her giggle.

  “Honey . . .”

  “Ah, there’s my honey.” I grin, my rapid heartbeat slowing down. I can feel myself relax on hearing her sweet endearment. It’s going to be okay. Sky and I will find a way to make it work.

  “So, we’re doing this. Me and you. A couple. A relationship.”

  “We’re doing this.”

  “And you want me to announce it to the world . . .”

  “I’m not ashamed to have the sexiest woman alive riding my coattails.” I crack the joke to lighten the heaviness of the decision.