He looked at his watch, then squinted up at Parker as he stood in a daze. “It’s almost six. I thought you had a meeting across town and weren’t coming back.” He glanced at the darkened glass door to the Legal Department. “You coming or going?”
Parker just stared, his mind too numb to answer.
“Riley? Are you all right?”
He nodded, and his breathing was so harsh, it seemed to echo in his ears. He licked his lips. “I . . . forgot something and came back.”
“Nothing important, I hope?”
“No . . . not anymore.” Pain shifted in his throat.
“Well, you coming or going? I don’t have all night.”
Parker waved him off. “I think I’ll take the stairs after all, thanks – I’d rather walk.”
The elevator slammed shut, and his eyes trailed into a hard stare. He shifted his briefcase from one sweaty hand to the other, unprepared for the swell of anguish that overpowered him. His shoulders sagged and he put a hand to his eyes, knowing exactly what he needed to do.
He would walk.
22
She missed him. He’d only been gone three days, but it was lonely in the office without him because he so seldom traveled. He preferred the quiet life – working on behalf of children behind an old, battered desk rather than hobnobbing with the brass in New York. Much to his father’s disdain, Parker Riley was a simple man, with no aspirations to rise to the top of the Children’s Aid Society like his father wanted him to do.
Katie glanced up at the clock. “Uh-oh, you two better scoot – or Mr. Riley may show up and give you something to do.”
With a scrunch of brows, Bobbie Sue shot a lopsided grin. “Sweet tea in the morning – are we talking about the same boy here? That man has a giant-sized marshmallow for a heart, and everybody knows it. And nobody knows that better than you, Miss Sass.”
Katie grinned and inserted a piece of paper into her typewriter. She spun the platen with a lift of her chin. “That’s right, Mizzzz Dulay, and don’t you forget it. In two weeks, it will be me running the show – as Mrs. Parker Riley.”
“Humph, you do now. Ain’t that right, Mizzzz Carmichael?”
Gladys finished applying her lipstick and gave Katie a droll smile. “Sure . . . ever since she stole the boss out from under my nose, that is.” She rose to her feet and winked, putting on her coat. “Tell me, Katie, has he left his keys on your nightstand lately?”
Katie chuckled to deflect the heat in her face. “I’ve already told you, Gladys, that was only a ploy to get into his office. Parker is completely committed to doing things the right way. For pity’s sake, the man barely kisses my cheek, much less leaves his keys on my nightstand.”
“Mmm . . . doesn’t sound like the right way to me,” Gladys said with a sultry grin. “I think she’s trying to shoo us out so she can be alone with her sweetie. When does his train get in?”
Another blush warmed Katie’s cheeks as she eyed the clock. “Around five-thirty, so he should be here about six. And I’m staying, Bobbie Sue, so if you want, I can finish that report.”
“Be my guest.” Bobbie Sue dropped papers on Katie’s desk along with Carmichael’s notes, then wrestled into her coat and clocked out, right behind Gladys. “Thanks, sassy girl.” She followed Gladys to the door, then turned and winked. “Give that boy a kiss for me, ya hear?”
“For me too,” Gladys called, her giggle echoing down the hall.
Bobbie Sue winked and closed the door, leaving Katie with a smile on her lips. She hummed to herself as she made a half pot of double-strong coffee – as stout as she liked since no one was there to complain – then returned to her desk to finish the report. The office was so quiet with everyone gone and ice-frosted windows to block out the street noise, but Katie didn’t mind as she typed away. The rattle of the radiator and the purring of the coffeepot almost relaxed her, which was something she needed as she waited for Parker. The dinner with Luke before Parker had left town had been strained, although Katie was certain that she and Luke had played their parts well. She stared at some of Carmichael’s unreadable notes and frowned, her face squinted in thought. True, Parker had seemed rather quiet, but then, Parker had always been the quiet one.
Hadn’t he?
A few moments later, the coffeepot spit and steamed, indicating the cycle was through, and Katie rose with the same unease she’d been wrestling with all day. Feeling somewhat stifled, she pushed the sleeves of her sweater up and poured a cup of coffee. Not unease over Luke – no, after their dinner out, that hurt had been pushed aside to focus on Parker, she and Luke determined he would never know the pain that festered in their hearts. Luke had been right – she had the mettle to see this through, to say “I do” to Parker when it should have been Luke by her side. She took a quick sip of the steaming liquid and returned to her desk, her resolve as strong and hot as the coffee that coated her throat. And somehow she knew – as sure as the diamond that glittered on her hand – that the power of prayer and that of Parker’s love would transform her . . . into the wife Parker Riley truly deserved.
The door creaked open, and she looked up, a smile tilting her lips at the sight of the man who would be her husband. She rose to her feet and hurried to where he stood, a suitcase in his hand. “All right, this settles it – you are never going anywhere without me again. Do you have any idea how much I missed you, Parker Riley?” She stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against his.
“I missed you too, Katie,” he whispered, his eyes worn and tired.
She pressed a hand to his cheek. “You look exhausted. Didn’t you sleep well?”
His hand was cold from the weather as it covered hers, pressing it against his bristled jaw. “No, not really. Too much on my mind.”
She reached up to kiss him again with a tease in her tone. “I suppose now you’re going to tell me you’re having second thoughts about marrying me.”
He didn’t answer, and she took his hand. “Parker?”
A lump shifted in his throat as he sandwiched his palm over hers. “I am, Katie.”
The air locked in her throat and she stared, not willing to hear the rest of this conversation. She hurried to her desk to pull a swatchbook of fabric from her top drawer. “Look, I found the perfect material to recover that old sofa Mother and Father are giving us – ”
The serious brown eyes, usually so calm and tender, now held the same look of grief as when Betty had died. “It’s no good, Katie . . . ,” he whispered.
She blinked, denial thickening in her throat. “Well, I know it’s a bit busy – ”
“No,” he said in a voice that lanced her heart. “Not the swatch . . . us.”
Her legs buckled and she sagged against the desk, heart pounding in her throat. When she found her voice, it was little more than a croak. “What are you saying, Parker?”
He moved forward with a firm bent to his jaw that she seldom ever saw. Without saying a word, he took his coat off and placed it on her desk and his suitcase on the floor, then looked up, his eyes pools of pain. The wind had wreaked havoc with him, ruffling that soft, sandy hair he tried so hard to keep combed, and he wore the stylish jacket she’d picked out, the tweed one that she loved. He was several feet away, but she could still smell the familiar scent of Bay Rum, and she closed her eyes, trembling at the prospect of losing this man that she loved.
Her eyes flinched open when his hands caressed her arms. “Katie, please forgive me, but I’ve prayed about this, and I feel our marriage would be a mistake.”
Her eyelids flickered and closed as she swayed on her feet. He steadied her, hands clasped to her arms, and she felt the tender strokes of his thumbs as they grazed against her skin. Tears stung beneath her lids, and her breathing was shallow when she finally spoke. “No, Parker, please – don’t do this. I love you.”
His voice was as stricken as hers. “I love you too, Katie – I love your strength and your stubbornness and your passion for the things you believe in. But it’s tho
se same things I love in you that have taught me that I’m not being fair to you.”
“Parker, no!” A sob broke from her throat as she opened her eyes. She clutched him, tears welling. “You just got back from a grueling trip – you’re tired and need to rest.”
“Actually, Katie, I returned early . . . and have been home several days now, thinking, praying . . .”
She stared, her eyes glazed with shock. “You’ve been home? And you didn’t call?” Her voice was frail and reedy, matching the disbelief in her mind. She glanced at the suitcase on the floor. “But your suitcase . . . ,” she whispered.
He looked away. “I’m leaving again . . . this time for good.”
She wavered, unsteady as the blood rushed from her face. He blurred before her in a wash of tears. “Parker, I love you and I beg you – don’t do this, please.”
He caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb, his calm eyes staring back with a sheen of tears. “Hear me out, Katie, please. After college, the desire of my heart was to serve God in the purest capacity possible. I knew deep in my soul that I had a calling, a vocation to live for him and only him. My father never understood that, of course, nor would he tolerate it.” He drew in a deep breath, his fingers splayed against the side of her head. They threaded into her hair, and her eyes drifted closed again, memorizing every detail of this man she’d grown to love. “And being the dutiful son he expected me to be, I did what he wanted – I became a lawyer.”
He sighed again and sat down on the edge of her desk, her hand clasped in his as he drew her close. “But I’m not sorry, because I met you . . . and Luke, and would you believe, he’s the only real friend I’ve ever had, other than you and Betty and Bobbie Sue?” He closed his eyes and shook his head, wetness shimmering in his lashes. “He was so hard and so tough with others . . . and yet so kind with me.” He wiped his eyes with the ball of his hand and laughed. “What an unlikely pair we made. Mutt and Jeff – polar opposites who became friends. The good-looking thug from the streets who beat people up . . . and the brainy rich kid who wanted to serve God.”
He exhaled and opened his eyes, the calm taking control once again. His smile was peaceful. “I love you, Katie . . . and I love Luke, but I have to do what my heart is telling me to do.” He swallowed hard. “What God is telling me to do.”
She slumped against him, head on his shoulder and voice broken. “Oh, Parker, why . . . ?”
He grasped her face in his hands, his eyes intent. “As much as I love you, Katie,” he said with quiet authority, “I’d rather have God’s will than my own . . . for you, for me . . .” He paused, his voice betraying the barest trace of a waver. “And for Luke. Because therein lies God’s best.”
Her eyes spanned wide, swimming with tears. “Oh, no, Parker, w-why are you saying that? What do you know?”
He rubbed her arms slowly, eyes tender as he stared from where he sat on the edge of the desk, his gaze level with hers. “I know I’m not the man God has for you, Katie . . . as much as I want to be.”
“No!” With ragged breathing, she kissed him hard, the taste of her tears salty on his lips. She heard a faint groan that seemed to come from deep within him before he swallowed her up in his arms, kissing her with more passion than he had ever shown before.
Hope sprang inside and she clutched him until her fingers ached. “Oh, Parker, please, I want you to marry me!”
He gripped her close, head tucked tightly into the curve of her neck. His voice, barely audible, held both peace and sadness. “Oh, Katie, it will be my privilege to marry you someday . . . but as the priest who performs the ceremony, not as your husband.”
Someone cleared their throat at the door, and Katie jolted.
“Uh . . . sorry if I’m interrupting something here, Parker old boy, but you did say six . . .” Luke seemed ill at ease as he stood in the doorway and glanced at his watch. As if to deflect his discomfort, he slacked a hip against the door and plucked the leather gloves from his hands, flashing them a grin. “Of course, I can always go outside and walk around the block a few times . . .”
Parker smiled, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall before returning to Luke. He squeezed Katie’s hand and rose to his feet. “Right on time, McGee, as always. I’ll tell you, when it comes to punctuality, my friend, you’re a credit to our sex.”
“Only in punctuality?” Luke asked with a cocky grin. He strolled in and stuffed his gloves into his pocket. “What about basketball, baseball . . . chess?” His gaze flitted to Katie and sobered a degree, apparently noting the distress in her redrimmed eyes. His voice lost its sparkle. “You two okay? I can come back if you – ”
“No, come on in, Luke, and take off your coat, please. I have a favor to ask.”
Katie exchanged a worried look with Luke, then gripped Parker’s arm. “Parker, please, I’m begging you . . .” Her eyes filled with a second round of tears.
Alarm registered in Luke’s voice. “What’s going on here, Parker?”
Parker hooked an arm to Katie’s waist and pulled her close, his hand stroking her hair as she wept against his chest. “I need you to take over as director of the BCAS.”
Luke blinked, not sure he had heard correctly. The sound of Katie weeping wrenched in his gut and he swallowed hard, forcing a flip tone. “Love to, old buddy, but you forget I’m the new director for Staten Island.” He attempted a wry grin. “I doubt your budget can lure me away from such a lucrative future.”
Parker stared with his usual calm while Katie’s tiny body shuddered against his. “I’m not joking, Luke,” he said quietly. “I need to know things are in good hands before I leave.”
Ice-cold prickles shivered Luke’s spine. “No, Parker, you hear me?” His voice was hard, tinged with fear. “I don’t know what game you’re playing here, but I refuse to be a part of it. So hear me loud and clear – the night of your wedding, I will be on my way to New York.”
“There isn’t going to be a wedding,” he said softly, and Katie cried all the harder.
“For the love of God, why?”
It was a dichotomy that Luke couldn’t fathom – Parker’s hand stroking Katie’s hair with such tenderness and calm while she fell apart in his arms. “Because I fell in love with a woman who taught me about courage – courage to follow my dreams and to press on despite the most painful obstacles.” His voice thickened with emotion. “And because I have a friend who taught me what real love is all about.”
“That’s crazy! You can’t just walk out on Katie . . . on these kids – ”
“I’m not,” Parker said with a sad smile. “I’m leaving them – and her – in good hands.”
Luke snatched his gloves from his pocket and jerked them on hard, fire burning in his eyes. “Well, I won’t do it. You’re just going to have to stay.”
Parker glanced at the clock. “Can’t, McGee. My train leaves in fifty minutes, and Carmichael’s expecting you on Monday. He has a list of everything in progress that he’ll fill you in on. And then later, when you have time, there’s a list in my desk of pet projects I’d like you to handle, no hurry.” He gently dislodged Katie from his chest and cupped her face in his hands, brushing his lips against hers. “I love you, Katie O’Connor. Thank you for the best year of my life.”
Katie sobbed, and Luke stared in shock as Parker lifted his coat from the desk and put it on, then picked up his suitcase and approached with extended hand. “You’re somewhat lacking at chess, McGee, but as a friend, you’re the best there is.”
“No,” Luke said, backing away. “You’re not doing this, Riley. I refuse the job.”
Smiling, Parker set down his suitcase and moved forward, ignoring Luke’s refusal with a tight clasp of his shoulders. “No you won’t, McGee. Contrary to popular opinion, you’re the one with a cream puff for a heart, not me.” He glanced at Katie with a solemn smile, then slapped the sides of Luke’s shoulders with a misty grin. “I suggest a firm hand, Luke. She tends to run the show.”
Luke
’s hand was trembling as he clutched Parker’s arm. “If I take it, Riley, it will only be until Carmichael finds a replacement, and then I’ll be gone. So you’re leaving for nothing.”
“I don’t think so,” Parker said, resting his hand on top of Luke’s. “If you won’t stay for my sake, Luke, then stay for hers.” He moved to the door and shot Katie a tender gaze. “Talk him into it, Katie,” he said with a faint smile. “We both know he’s the man for the job.” He grabbed his suitcase and walked out, closing the door behind him.
Katie slumped against her desk, and her sobs finished shredding Luke’s heart. He rushed to pull her into his arms, his own voice rough with emotion. “How did he find out?” She shook her head, quivering against him. “I don’t know, but he knows . . . h-he has to.”
He handed her a handkerchief and touched her cheek. “Well, he’s not getting away with it. This is Parker Riley – the man we can talk into anything, remember? You wait here, okay?”
She nodded and sniffed, blowing her nose with another soggy heave.
Bypassing the elevator, he bolted down the stairs and out the front door, eyes scanning the street in the dark, lit only by streetlamps and storefronts still ablaze in anticipation of Christmas. He spotted him a block away, shoulders slumped and gray woolen coat flapping open in the breeze. Luke sprinted toward him, dodging couples and groups as they window shopped and milled on the sidewalk. Night had fallen, but the city was alive with the sounds of rush hour merging into the weekend with its cadence of traffic and horns blaring and music floating in the air. His stomach rumbled at the smell of steaks sizzling at Mickey Malone’s, a favorite lunch spot of Parker’s and his, and he could smell the fresh-baked bread from the bakery that Parker was just passing. His breathing was labored when he finally huffed to a stop twenty feet behind. He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Parker!”
He turned, and Luke could see from his stance in the lamplight that he would have a fight on his hands. “It doesn’t matter if you leave or not,” Luke shouted, his words heaving forth on halting breaths as they curled into the air like smoke. “I’m not going to marry Katie.”