23: Danger

      I walk up the stairs to the office of the P.I. I hired, wondering if he found anything.
      "That was actually quite easy. I wish they all could be that way," the man says after I ask him. He hands me a piece of paper to read before he says, "Residency transfer papers. I guess she didn't have a choice there."
      Sunlit Tides, I think as I look at the paper.
      "Thank you," I say as I get out my checkbook.
      I royally screwed up. In fact, I doubt there could be a way I could've messed things up more thoroughly.
     There was always that temptation there... I knew her friend wanted me. Hell, half the cheerleading squad did too, but no one could come close to the quiet, pretty little blonde sitting in the stands, watching me. I grin in spite of my depression when I remember how thrilled she looked when I asked her out that first time.
    My smile is short-lived when I remember how quiet she was for months as I begged for forgiveness. Once she'd finished screaming at me and throwing everything within reach, her silence couldn't have been louder.
      If I'd have known why she wanted to sell the house, I never would've given in like that.
      I know where to go next: Bill's.

     "Hey," he says when he answers my knock. We'd become friends in high school when he played quarterback to my wide receiver. After I graduated, he took the team to state.
     "I found her," I say and show him the paper as I walk inside. I've already memorized the address.
     "She doesn't want to be found," he says bluntly.
     "I still thought I'd let you know what I know what with you being her brother and all."
     He sighs. "Thank you. At least I know where she is, but if you go there, she won't be happy to see you. Leave her alone."
      "I won't," I say, starting to get mad. I've had it with him trying to tell me to back off and forget it! Forget her? No way in hell am I going to do that.
      "She ran away from you! If it weren't for you and your fucking things up, she'd still be here," he growls.
      "Fuck you. I didn't come over here to listen to this shit again." I get up and grumble about going out of my way to let him know where his sister is only to get chewed out again.
      On my way out the door, I hear him say, "Just because I can bear to be in the same room with you, and that's because I've already kicked your ass once, doesn't mean I'm going to just forget all about what you did." I stop and he keeps talking, "I'm telling you as a friend. Leave her alone. Oh but hey, what do I know, right?" His voice is laced with sarcasm. Then he says, "If her leaving town isn't an obvious 'leave me alone,' then nothing I can say will prevent you from it."

       I snatch back the paper and say, "Leaving is exactly what I'm doing. I'm going. I still have that leave I was gonna use for our honeymoon. Looks like I'm going on vacation!" I grin to his scowl as I finally exit his house.

Desmond Lumpkin

      I don't know why it is that I have to be the one to go to the airport to pick up Bryce's new waitress. Yeah sure, I'm the contact that got her the job and him the employee, but does that really mean I have to go and get her?

       'Because the chit's father saved your skin and this is the least you can do,' my inner voice tells me.

       Shut up, I tell it back. I hate being indebted to anyone or anything. I bet the brat doesn't know the first thing about hard work what with growing up rich and spoiled like she probably did.

       I can easily picture her in my head. I bet she looks lost and in need of a babysitter, hence the whole reason I have to pick her up in the first place.

        I angrily slam the door closed on my Mercedes as I pull away from the office, again wishing Bryce was doing this instead of me.

      I stand here and watch the passengers from her flight as they arrive, and I'm holding a sign that says 'Parren' in my hand. I vaguely wonder again what my birth name was. I was two when family services came and took me from my parents before depositing me into the foster care system, and I was never told, not that I cared enough to ask, what it was. The less-than-fabulous Lumpkins adopted me and acted like I should kiss the ground they walked upon for doing so.

       I see a tanned blonde girl walk out of the line, looking around, and I vaguely wonder if this is the new waitress. She looks very similar to the way I pictured her except...

        She's beautiful.

        Why does she have to be beautiful?

        She walks up to me with a questioning look in her emerald eyes. "Parren?" she asks in a sexy French accent.

        I immediately feel like being a smart-ass. "That's what the sign says, doesn't it?"

        She rolls those eyes of hers and says, "That's okay. I don't need your help. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." Then she turns and walks away.

        "Oh no you don't," I say and reach out for her arm. Immediately, she drops the bag in her hand, spins me around, and has my arm pinned behind my back in a tight hold.

     "Miss Parren, your father had my assurance that I would see you safely ensconced at your apartment and introduced to your new boss. Please don't tempt me to go against my word and just leave you here to your own resources," I say quickly and calmly.

         People stop to stare at us as she cranes her neck up to snap into my ear, "Well, as you can see, I don't need your help, and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Her hold of my arm is mildly painful, and I haven't a doubt she could break it if she chose to. I am so turned on right now.

       "Then let me ask to take you to your new apartment and introduce you to my friend, Bryce," I say as politely as I can manage while successfully hiding how much I'm enjoying this -- even with the amused audience of curious tourists.

       She releases my arm, and I flex the muscles in it, testing them. This woman is more than meets the eye.

        I turn to pick up the bag she dropped and say, "This way, if you please, Miss Parren."

        "I can carry my own bag, thank you," she says as she tries to catch up to my quick pace.

        Normally, I would never stoop to this menial task, but I guessed correctly that it would annoy her if I did it. "Nonsense," I reply.

       "Who are you anyway?" she asks.

       "Desmond Lumpkin," I answer brusquely.

       "You're the lawyer?" she asks incredulously.

       I stop suddenly to turn and face her. "Yes. Why is that a surprise?" I ask just before she tries unsuccessfully to yank her bag from my hand.

        "I'd pictured somebody older," she admits as I again keep the bag from her grasp. "I thought you were just some well-dressed lackey."

        I chuckle and say, "Thank you for the compliment on my attire, but no. Your father saved my life, so you're my most important order of business at the moment."

         "Huh," she scoffs. She acts like she'd planned on saying more, but something distracts her as I throw her bag into the trunk.

         I look up at her after I close the trunk to see her staring at my car. I shrug and climb into the driver's seat.

        "So," she nags, "you insist on carrying my bag, but you refuse to open my door for me?"

        I smile in spite of the anger she hoped I'd feel. I make a show of getting out of my seat with the intention to go open her door, but as I expect, she hops into the passenger side all on her own, mumbling about how I shouldn't bother.

        I decide to take her by her residence first, and I keep getting delightfully distracted by her fantastic legs so very near my hand as it rests on the stick shift.

        I park my car and say, "I'm sure you're used to better, but this will have to do."

        The apartment complex isn't bad. The buildings themselves are about twenty to thirty years old, but they had a new owner that refurbished them about five years ago before going belly-up.

        "It's fine," she says.

        Again, I insist upon helping her with her things, and again, I do this mostly to annoy her. She, almost timidly to my surprise, tells me to just put the luggage down so she can deal with it later.

     "Let's just go and have me meet my new boss, okay?" she asks, and now I see where the nervousness is coming from.

        "You don't have anything to worry about from Bryce. He's a good employer from what I can tell," I say, trying to sound reassuring.

         "Who says I'm worried about that?" she lightly snaps.

         "Your tone said it," I answer evenly.

         She nervously brushes her hair out of her eyes and says, "Look. I just want to get this over with since I'm starting tomorrow and I have a bit of jet lag."

         I throw my hands up in a gesture of surrender before I say, "All right then. Off we go."

         On the way there, I uncharacteristically try to make small talk and I find out she's not actually Agent Parren's biological daughter. In fact, like me, she was adopted. I don't mention to her our similarity.

       

Bryce

     I am so irritated I have to come to work early today. All right, well, I probably would have had to anyway to give interviews if I'd have been lucky enough to get any applicants. Still, this takes away time with Erin. She went home to work on rewriting her book. I told her to go ahead and keep writing it. The whole nanny thing really makes it different from my life.

     I see Desmond's car pull up. Here goes.
     He speaks up first. "Bryce, this is Marie Parren. Marie, this is my friend, Bryce Burch."
     Well, she's got the attractive bit taken care of, I think as I shake her hand. Sorry to say it, but attractive waitresses tend to be more successful.
      "Desmond tells me you've never had a job before," I say in an almost-question.
      "Not officially, no," she answers. "My mom would have me keep house for her, taking care of my younger brothers, while she worked at a bar she owned."

      Babysitter and housekeeper... great, I think sarcastically.
      "But I learn fast," she quickly adds.
      Sure you do. I've heard that one before, I think as I glance over at Desmond to convey to him that we're even now,...

     ....but he's too busy staring at Marie with what Jesse would call 'goo-goo' eyes. Interesting.
     "Well, let's find out how fast you learn," I say. Then, I turn to Desmond to say, "Thanks, Des. I can take it from here."

     He very nearly glares at me. I give him a 'what?' look. I hope he doesn't think I'm interested. Even if I was, like with Bernadette (before I got to know her), I wouldn't. Besides, nobody tops Erin.
     Desmond leaves, and I come to find Marie probably does learn fast. Maybe I got lucky and Desmond actually came through for me instead of dumping on me. I've still paid my debt to him for all he did for me, ensuring that Ashley can't touch Adele.
    The following night, she proves to me that she retained nearly everything I taught her, even though she looked a little tired yesterday while she learned it. Maybe I should've done this all along: hired someone totally untrained so I could make of them what I want. The real test will be Friday night during the party.
     The party... that Captain Jesse will attend... with whatever 'wenches' he manages to acquire. I wonder...

      "Hey Marie," I call to her from the bar when things calm down a little. Once she's walked over, I say, "Friday night I usually throw a party, and this week's should be huge."
      "Okay," she says.
      "Thing is... we dress up from time to time. You know, to have a little fun with the tourists." You are so full of shit, Bryce, I think as I pull out my ability to keep a straight face. Jones wisely keeps his mouth shut. "And since that's tomorrow, I guess you're lacking in the costume department."
      "You're right, of course."
      I pat myself on the back for already having this. "I have a box here in the bar of old costumes. You can go through it to see if anything will work. You'll probably want to wash whatever you find though." I step out of the way so she can search the box, congratulating myself on my idea.
       She's Jesse's type. I feel a little guilty I'm playing this gag on her, so I decide to have Erin pack an outfit Marie could borrow just in case. Jesse will get a kick out of this, and maybe this will distract him a little off of Erin. I hope Marie has a good sense of humor.
     "I guess this will do," she says, resigned, holding up the perfect thing to fit with Captain Jesse.
     "Oh good," I say in a fake-bored voice.

------------------------------------------------------------

Marie's apartment complex is Colorful Friends02 by ayyuff. I liked it backwards. :)