Denying Mr. Parks (The Parks #1) Read online

  After getting into my bedroom, I threw the catalogue onto my single bed and made quick work of gathering the essentials to take a shower. I threw my up hair, washed quickly, and then stared at the rack of clothes I had in my stand-alone wardrobe. I had so many, yet I never had anything to wear. I knew I was going on a date, but late March in London was fucking arctic. I had a choice of dressing chic and freezing my tits off all night or dressing appropriately for the weather. But Alex wasn’t a man I was going on a first date with. I’d known him all my life, so it wasn’t like I needed to make the effort. In the end I decided to go for a pair of skinny jeans—after battling to pull them up over my arse—and paired them with a white jumper and boots. I also wrapped a thick scarf around my neck and threw on my coat.

  As I was about to leave, my smartphone began to ring. It was Alex.

  “Hey, Evey. You still coming?”

  I frowned and glanced at the wall clock. It was eight o’clock. Shit. I was meant to be there at seven.

  “I’m on my way.” I wasn’t on my way, but we’ve all lied about it. I hung up on him in a rush, waved good-bye to Steph, and called a taxi.

  Chapter Four

  “I thought you were going to stand me up.” Alex’s pale, baby face was all smiles and sweetness when I marched my way into the chicken place in a rush, trying to hitch my bag back over my shoulder where it kept falling off. I felt bad. I was an hour late and all because of that jerk. I couldn’t believe Alex actually waited. The poor thing.

  I pulled out my seat and flopped into the chair opposite him with an exaggerated breath. Alex was not my type. He was too skinny. Too nice. His buzz-cut hair was light brown, and his blue eyes were average. He was nothing special, but was a guy who would do anything and everything for me if I asked him to. He was a policeman who had a special love affair with football and watched every match that annoyingly graced the TV. That was what I definitely knew about him. And that was pretty much all he was about.

  “Sorry for being late. I got caught up with my idiot boss earlier—no, the founder…Whoever he is,” I told him with utmost sincerity, waving my hand around dismissively.

  “Another arsehole?” His mouth pressed into a sympathetic line.

  “Arsehole?” I scoffed, placing my handbag under the table and unwrapping my scarf from around my neck. “Now that would be an understatement.”

  Alex’s eyes softly drifted over my face after he laughed. “You look beautiful, Evey, if you don’t mind me saying.” He smiled his quirky, crooked smile, and it made me roll my eyes.

  “I do not.” While picking the menu up from the table to have a browse, I could feel Alex’s eyes watching me, and it made me feel uncomfortable because he was so nervous. It was completely unnecessary to feel that way around me. We’d known each other for years.

  “Would you like something to drink?” He smiled.

  “Definitely. A glass of red, please.”

  He gave me that concerned look most people did when I asked for an alcoholic drink and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Steph told me not to let you drink.”

  I sighed deeply, quite pissed that she’d warned him. Okay, she was doing the right thing, but I had it under control. “It’s one glass. I’m allowed one glass,” I prompted.

  Alex, being the sweet, kind guy he was didn’t argue but gave in. “Sure.”

  The waitress came around to take our orders, looking deathly bored and chewing gum like a horse.

  “Could we have a small glass of house red, please, for this lovely lady I have in my company? And an orange juice for me,” Alex said.

  My lips rose to the side, smirking at his cheesiness whilst the waitress—who was equally cringing—grinned along. “Have you both chosen what you’d like to eat?”

  Alex went first, ordering spicy chicken wings and two sides of chips. Where the hell did he put it all? When he was done, I ordered a chicken breast with chips and a side salad.

  Throughout the date I wasn’t aware that my mind was AWOL until Alex asked me what I thought about him being home from Ireland.

  “Huh?” I looked up blankly from my half-eaten plate of food, only catching a quarter of what he was saying.

  He laughed at my absent, mindless behaviour. “I was saying, how do you feel that I’m home?”

  “Yeah, it’s…great. And your parents are happy, you can’t argue with that.” I brought the glass of wine to my lips, watching him gingerly moving the food around on his plate with his fork.

  “Do you think we can pick up where we left off? I know we’ve been out together since I’ve been home, and I love spending time with you. It’s just…we haven’t talked about us really, have we?” He stared at me all hopeful and cute, leaning over to take my free hand in his. “What do you think?”

  Instinctively I flinched and pulled it away. “What do I think about what?”

  Alex was about to explain himself, but a firm, breathy American accent stopped him mid-word. “Evelyn? What a pleasant surprise.”

  You’ve got to me shitting me. My mouth fell open before I had chance to look up. What in the hell was he doing? I silently begged the chair to swallow me up. Whole.

  “Mr. Parks?” I looked up in his direction and saw him perched over us beside the table. I was completely perplexed and had to regain my composure from the shock. He was looking straight at Alex but never bothered to size him up like Alex was doing to Parks. He knew he was the alpha of the two. Cocky bastard. But that didn’t halt my gaze from roaming all over his tall, toned, and lean body that was still wearing that black suit and red tie. I decided the red meant danger and was a warning to stay away. Which was fine by me.

  “Evelyn was kind enough to pass me some information about a couple of her favourite restaurants. That is, if you can call this a restaurant.” Huh? Why was he lying?

  He looked around the room in disgust like he couldn’t believe he was inside a place like a chicken hut. Snob. “So I thought I’d check the place out, and here you are.” His eyes danced with humour as his gaze drifted to me, not at all contrite that he was looking at me lewdly in front of another man.

  He gave me no choice, so I had to ease Alex’s confusion. “My boss,” I mouthed.

  “Oh. Right. Um, nice to meet you.” Alex was polite enough to smile. He could see the way Parks was looking at me but didn’t comment on it. He was too nice to.

  Parks stood tall and confident. “Not her boss, no. I am the founder of the law firm she works for. I am also CEO of a lot of my own wealthy business ventures.”

  Why did he have to chuck that in? To make his ego bigger than it already was? He was purposely trying to undermine Alex, and it wasn’t fair.

  “I see.” Alex felt small, I knew it. “I hope you’re not working her too hard,” he said, trying to add a little humour.

  Parks twitched his lips. “Oh, I will be working her extremely hard. Evelyn, until tomorrow.” He nodded gracefully towards me before excusing himself. I glanced over my shoulder and watched the smug prick pick up a takeaway bag and walk out of the chicken hut causal as you could ever be.

  “That’s your boss? He seems a right…”

  “Dickhead? Yes, he is.” I snatched the wineglass from the table and drank it down in one. Just as I slammed the glass back onto the table, I got a text from an unknown number. I immediately knew who it was from.

  Wade: I want to see you in my office first thing tomorrow morning. Wade.

  The first thing that came into my head after that text was, how the hell did he get my number? And what the hell was the deal with his first name? And how did he get my number? Did I say that already?

  I screamed at my phone, making Alex jump.

  “Shit, Evey. Who’s pissed you off?”

  “No one,” I snapped. He looked down and started picking at his food sheepishly. “Sorry.” I felt the need to be apologetic whilst I saved the number and texted Parks back.

  Get fucked.

  After the text I shoved my smartphone
into my bag under the table. When I looked up, Alex was watching me patiently, waiting for me to stop my bad manners. I tried to continue with the conversation, even if my mind wasn’t with it. “I’m happy you’re home. Is it permanent?”

  He smiled, leaning over the table to get closer to me. “I think so. I hope so. I’m glad to be back in London, really. You know how expensive things are in Ireland?”

  I laughed at his horror. “What, worse than London?”

  He chuckled again whilst he thought it through. “Nah, you’re right. I’m just being a tight arse. And I realised when I got back home I was saying feck instead of fuck.” We both laughed whilst he stared at me with warm, tender eyes. It was the way he always looked at me but not the way I looked at him. He went to take my hand again, but the waitress interrupted.

  “Would you like any refills?”

  “Yes. Thank you,” I was quick to jump in. She took our glasses away, and I ignored Alex’s pursed lips. He was clearly displeased because I had ordered another wine. I bowed my head to take back my fork and ignored the look I hated, then heard my phone bleep again.

  “You can get it if you want,” Alex urged me, clearly sensing it was annoying me.

  “Sorry.” I reached down and took my phone out to read the message.

  Wade: I’d rather you fucked me.

  “Childish, arrogant bastard,” I muttered under my breath, throwing my Samsung back into my bag.

  “Okay, now I know someone has pissed you off.”

  I stabbed my fork into the remaining half of the chicken breast and cut it harder than I needed to.

  “Evey, you’re going to cut the whole fecking plate in a minute.”

  I looked up at him, then down at my plate and saw that the chicken was already cut. Damn Parks. Then I realised something and pointed to Alex with my fork.

  “You just said fecking.”

  He howled along with me, and that sort of put my distraction of Parks pissing me off to the back of my mind for the rest of the night.

  Alex shifted on his feet at the end of my path after he’d given me a lift home. I was rubbing at my arms from being so cold, but he stood beside me, not making any attempt to leave. I knew he wanted me to invite him inside. For a coffee? Yeah, right.

  “Thanks for tonight, Evey. Another date Monday?” he asked, his manner utterly hopeful as he moved closer.

  “Sure.” I shrugged. “Why not?”

  He bent down to peck me on the cheek, but I sensed he wanted more, so I moved away on a forced, uneasy laugh and turned it into a horrifyingly awkward situation.

  “Oh look at the time.” I looked at my wrist—even though I knew damn well I didn’t own a watch.

  “Sorry.” He chuckled, apologizing for wanting to kiss me.

  “I’m going to head in.” I pushed my head in the direction of the door so he’d finally get the hint.

  “Monday?” he called, giving a small wave.

  “Monday,” I agreed in haste.

  Chapter Five

  I headed to work the next morning, ignoring the black Jaguar outside my flat. I knew Parks had sent it because he, for whatever reason, didn’t want me riding the Underground. What in the hell gave him the right to dictate what I did? That made me even more determined to ride the Tube.

  After collecting my usual coffee from Starbucks, I made small talk with the girls and settled my bill with them. Apart from Steph, I had no other friends, but Mindy and Keira were forming a fresh relationship with me. I would normally have a friendly girly chat with them whilst waiting for my coffee, but that day, I was in no mood to talk.

  “Here you go, babe,” Mindy, who was originally from South India and had the most beautiful skin and the most extraordinary brown eyes, said as she handed me my paper coffee cup.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, passing her the money.

  “Why the frown?” She crossed her arms and pouted.

  I lifted my brows. “Work. Duh.”

  We laughed at my unenthusiastic remark as she gave me my change.

  “I thought you liked it?”

  “I do.” I sighed. “Just a complication hindering it at the moment.”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Evey,” she called after me when I tried to squeeze my way out of the shop.

  I stormed through the office door like a bear with a sore head. Clarke noticed my mood instantly. “Tell me, is your date the reason you’re wearing that frown, my girl?” He peered over his glasses as I took the seat at my desk and turned on my desktop.

  “No. It was… nice.” I didn’t have any other word to describe it.

  “Nice?” Clarke inquired flatly. Okay, nice wasn’t a great word. It was a shit word, actually, but that’s all I had.

  “Nice,” I agreed on a sigh. Clarke knew better than to go on at me, so he set me my jobs and we got to work.

  I had a productive morning, and by lunchtime I hadn’t heard a peep out of Parks. I was waiting for him to come and shoot me down for not going to his office like he demanded. I envisioned him with a ruler in his hand, ready to slap my palms with it for disobeying. But nothing. I was glad, really, because I would have given him a piece of my mind and would probably, most definitely, have been fired. What I did see, though, was Carla fuck-witting about and a lady that was seemingly Parks’s assistant doing the same. She was a big woman, maybe in her early forties, dressed immaculately and with dark blonde hair pulled back into a huge doughnut bun. Clarke and I renamed her Jittery Joanna. She was a nervous wreck. Maybe that’s what working for Mr. Parks does to you.

  I also received a small bouquet of mixed flowers which had been sent to my office. “They’re from Alex.” I smirked, admiring them as Clarke teased me, but Parks then made his dominating entrance and spotted them.

  “Evelyn, I would appreciate it if you keep your affairs outside of my workplace.”

  My heart rate sped up from seeing his delectable face, but as soon as he spoke he angered me. I didn’t bite, though. Because that’s what he wanted. Parks then headed into Carla’s office with Jittery Joanna following him.

  “Ooh, something’s crawled up handsome’s arse and died,” Clarke taunted. Seconds later I got a bleep from my computer, telling me I had an email. I immediately knew who it was from.

  From: Wade Parks, CEO, Parks Industries

  To: Evelyn Banks

  Message: Flowers will not bring you happiness, my cock will. Bring your ass to my office this evening as you declined my demand this morning.

  And throw those flowers away. They are making my office look cheap.

  I screamed at my computer screen, making Clarke jump and clutch at his chest.

  “Good heavens, what was that for?” he asked.

  “An overbearing, arrogant prick,” I yelled, loud enough that he could hear me and received a glare from Posh Patricia over her half-moon glasses.

  “Evey, it is deeply inappropriate to use that sort of language when you are a young woman.” Queen Pat was off, sticking her oar in where it wasn’t wanted. I rolled my eyes over to Clarke, who lowered his head behind his desktop to hide his snickering.

  “I hardly find it amusing,” she snapped.

  “You don’t find anything amusing, Pat,” I uttered. I was seething because of her and seething because of those emails. I needed to go on my lunch to stop myself from barging into Parks’s office like a bull and charging at him. “Tea?” I asked Clarke, trying to find a way of getting out of an argument with Posh Pat.

  “Yes, please. I am gasping. Let’s go see what cakes we have on offer.” He wiggled his chubby fingers together and followed me out to the break room, leaving Pat and her remarks in the office.

  “Should we ask Mr. Parks if he would like some tea?” Clarke asked as he flipped the switch on the kettle.

  “He has that jittery assistant to do that, Clarke. Besides, I think he only drinks watermelon.” I shrugged flippantly.

  “Such a diva,” he cooed.

  “Indeed.” I copied Clarke�
�s posh voice as I took two mugs from the shelf.

  “Did you know he was accepted at Harvard Law School when he was only eighteen years old? I was highly impressed when I read all about it,” Clarke said, pouring hot water into our mugs.

  I pulled out a teaspoon from the drawer and took the milk out of the small fridge.

  “Who? God’s gift to women?” I scoffed, pouring full-fat milk into my tea.

  The only reason I looked up from the milk carton was because it went quiet. When I turned, just as I dreaded, Parks was standing with arms crossed in the doorway wearing his black suit ensemble and an inward, amused smirk.

  Clarke cleared an imaginary lump from his throat, picked up his tea cake and mug, then scuttled from the room, leaving me. Shit house.

  “Hi.” He smirked. His green eyes were bright and amused as they watched me. I quickly turned my back, placed the carton of milk back in the fridge, and said fuck under my breath for getting caught.

  “So you think I’m God’s gift to women?”

  Oh God, he heard me. I tried to hide my smirk by biting my lip as I turned to face him. “No. That’s what you think you are.”

  “Perhaps you are God’s gift to me?”