Head Over Heels (2 page)

“I can’t wait.” The hell she couldn’t. This was so not how Cyn had pictured the night ending.

This was so not how Parker Maguire had pictured the night starting or being at all, for that matter. When his college buddy had called him with a business proposition, Parker’d thought, sure, a nightclub in the heart of San Fran sounded like a wonderful way to invest some money. The investment was a step away from the Hollywood scene. A way for him to branch out into something new and fun.

Good Lord, what had he been thinking? It was becoming increasingly clear he didn’t have the slightest clue what partying consisted of these days. The exact moment he apparently morphed into his father wasn’t exactly clear, but nevertheless, it happened.

The Hollywood night life had nothing on the Bay Area and that wasn’t a compliment.

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Lena Matthews

So instead of being on the crowded dance floor, groping and grinding, he was standing in the VIP balcony, feening for a cigarette, wishing he’d stayed home and merely wrote a check instead of demanding to be more than just a silent partner. Right then and there, Parker thought, silence might not have been so bad.

The crowded club and overpowering smell of desperation leaking from the pores of the half dressed girls and over dressed men reminded him why he had stopped going to meat markets such as this in the first place. That and the fact everyone he met these days wanted something from him.

His high-profile role as a wheeler-dealer in the land of make-believe ensured him a place of honor in the sexual hall of fame. In his early years in the business, Parker had caressed more pussy than a veterinarian. Surprisingly, he’d grown tired of it. The countless encounters that is, not the sex. He was bored not dead.

He was looking for more. What that entailed, he wasn’t sure, but a glance at the crowded floor assured him that
more
wouldn’t be found here. The only thing he’d found so far was the beginning of a headache.

Despite the balcony being enclosed, the loud music still somehow managed to seep into the room. It wasn’t as deafening as on the dance floor, but the steady thump was still mind-numbing. When had he reached the point where loud music was disturbing him, not that he would describe the pounding mix playing as music? It was more like a never-ending version of the same song being played at different speeds which just further beat home the point he was just too damn old for clubbing.

He needed a drink. Then a good kick in the ass. Maybe not even in that order. With a disgusted snort, he headed out the room and almost collided with the bouncer standing on the steps leading to the dance floor. Surprisingly, the bulky man wasn’t alone. He was in the midst of a face-off with a very attractive, yet tired-looking African American lady.

In spite of her club-like attire, which consisted of a black, midriff exposing halter-top and matching black short skirt, she seemed a bit different than the other women skulking around the club. For one, the man-hungry-hunter look was nowhere to be found in her hazel eyes, just a hint of boredom and annoyance. Also, even though her clothes were 10

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Head over Heels

sexy, they weren’t blatant, I-can-see-your-pubic-hair-runway-from-a-mile-away sexy.

Parker couldn’t speak for any other man, but he was a bit old fashioned. In his book, the one with the balls led the chase. Plain and simple.

The hallway was as insulated as the room, so it didn’t take much to clearly hear the argument at hand.

“I’m not going to tell you again.” Muscle guy had his arms crossed over his massive chest, in what Parker assumed was to be an intimidating pose. But from the annoyed look on the woman’s face, pressure was the last thing she was feeling.

“You didn’t have to tell me the first time. All you needed to do was ask. You know, just because you have a dick, doesn’t mean you have to act like one.”

“That’s it. You’re out of here.”

“Eat me,” she spat.

“Bitch.”

“Hey,” Parker shouted, angry now. He didn’t know what exactly had gone down and he didn’t care. There was a right way and a wrong way to talk to a lady. “Back down.”

Muscle guy turned around with a scowl, but when he recognized who was speaking to him, his attitude immediately disappeared. “Sorry, sir, this lady was blocking the stairs.”

“No, this
lady
was sitting on the stairs, for a moment.”

“It’s a fire hazard, sir.”

“Yes, because if by some off the wall chance Club A Go Go caught on fire, my big ass sitting on the second to last step was going to be the reason everyone burned up and died. Yeah, right.”

Apparently the bouncer didn’t know when to leave well enough alone. “It’s against the law, sir.”

What an ass. Parker truly didn’t invest half a million dollars in tittypolozza to referee grudge matches. Though, before he could speak, the fireball mouthed off again. “No, what should be against the law is the overpriced, watered-down drinks. Whoever owns this place needs their ass kicked.”

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Lena Matthews

“Really?” Amused now, Parker focused all his attention on the woman. “Well, as one of the aforementioned owners, should I be worried?”

“Maybe.” Her bottom lip quivered as if she was biting back a laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t know I was in the company of club royalty.”

Her obvious amusement made it difficult for Parker to believe her. Bored no longer, Parker leaned against the wall and smiled. “Forgiven. Now if you would—”

The spitfire raised her hands, halting his words. She in essence shushed him. A first for Parker. He was an order giving type of man, not someone to be dismissed. Yet instead of being irritated, he was intrigued. Who in the world was she?

“No need to call for reinforcements. As I was telling Schwarzenegger here, I was just resting for a moment. I’ll leave.”

The hell she would. “I wasn’t going to say that. There’s no need to hurry. In fact, if you feel the need to…rest a bit more we can go back upstairs.”

“We?” She tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “And why would I go anywhere with a complete stranger? I don’t know you. You could be crazy.”

The bouncer snorted and shook his head, much the way Parker wanted to. A complete stranger, wow. Parker didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he’d been on more magazine covers than some of the movie stars he produced films for. He was called the

“Prince of Hollywood” or sometimes the “Movie Midas”, because every film he produced turned to gold. Yet, from the disinterested way she was watching him, Parker was willing to bet that even if she knew all of that, she’d still be hesitant about going into the room with him.

How refreshing.

“True, but there’s a couch and all the free overpriced, watered-down drinks you can drink. Plus it’s going to annoy the hell out of him.” This time the smile broke free, turning her pretty face beautiful. Damn. “I can promise you I’m not crazy, but then again, a crazy person would say the same.”

“So true.”

“Then what do you have to lose.”

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Head over Heels

“Only my life.”

“There is that. But I promise not to kill you.” When she still didn’t look convinced, Parker took his hand from his pocket and raised it in the air, with his index and middle finger pointed up. “Scout’s Honor.”

“When you put it that way, it’s almost impossible to resist.” She smiled.

“Almost?” Parker wondered what he’d have to do make the offer irresistible.

“Yes. Almost.”

“Hmm…” Leaving was no longer an option for him. Parker was there to stay.

“Almost means there’s something I can do to convince you.”

“There’re two things.”

Parker loved a good negotiation. “I’m listening.”

“The door stays open at all times.”

“Deal.”

“I text my friend to let him know where I am and he’s allowed to come up at anytime.”

He… Parker didn’t like the idea of a he, but she did say friend. “Deal.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Her eyes widened as if she was surprised, then flashed with amusement. “This club may not suck so much after all.”

“Great.” Parker stepped away from the wall and pushed the door all the way open for her. “Maybe we’ll put that on the napkins and billboards.”

Laughing, she walked past him and into the room. The night was looking up already.

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Lena Matthews

Cyn couldn’t believe she was accompanying a strange man into the private VIP room at the hottest new club in town. Although some people would have been blasé about the whole thing, for her it was borderline taboo. As silly as it sounded, Cyn wasn’t as flamboyant as most of her friends. Okay, to be fair, it was hard to top her out-there friends, but then she never really tried.

Unlike everyone else, Cyn had been fed the responsibility line her whole life. She was raised to believe it was her duty to take care of her family first, then herself. So while her friends were off clubbing, she could usually be found working late or taking care of some family issues.

But tonight, oh tonight, was going to be a different story. Cyn had never considered herself much of a risk taker, but tonight she was going to do something daring. She was stepping out of the dutiful daughter role and into femme fatale. Well, maybe not femme fatale, but something akin to it.

The idea of a vixen version of herself made Cyn chuckle. The boldest thing she normally did was to use one toilet seat cover instead of two. Oh yeah, Mr. VIP Man’s virtue was safe. Unfortunately, because the man was hella fine.

On average, Cyn wasn’t one to be attracted to men outside her race. It wasn’t a prejudice, just a preference. But now she was going to have to seriously rethink white boys. When she’d been arguing with Schwarzenegger, Cyn hadn’t really paid much mind to the interloper, but as soon as he interrupted, all her attention moved to him. And rightly so.

Dressed all in black, he loomed over her and the bouncer by several inches. Cyn wasn’t a slouch at five eight so that meant her host was at the least six three. His light shoulder-length hair was a strong contrast to his tanned skin.

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She wasn’t willing to give up on a good looking guy just because he was pigmently challenged. Yes, rethinking her bias against white boys was first on her list of things to do tonight. Closely followed by flirting with said white boy.

As they entered the VIP room, Cyn looked around the posh surroundings, duly impressed. Although the thumping beat of the music reverberated from below, she could envision conversation actually taking place in this room. The leather couches looked plush and she couldn’t wait to rest her tired feet. A woman who sold shoes for a living couldn’t be seen rubbing her aching dogs. It just wouldn’t do.

“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll get us some drinks.”

“Sounds heavenly. I’ll have a diet soda. In an unopened can, please.” Cyn collapsed onto the couch, stroking her hands over the soft as butter leather. Ever so discretely she slipped off her shoes and wiggled her toes. Nirvana.

“Unopened can?”

“Yes, I still don’t know you,” she reminded him smugly. Cyn might want to spread her wings, but she didn’t want to spread her legs…unwillingly that was. There were a lot of crazy men out there and she refused to fall victim to one if she could help it. “No offense meant, but anyone worth their salt knows better.”

“No offense taken. In fact…” his voice became muffled for a bit as he bent over to open the mini fridge, “…very wise.”

When he walked back to her, he had two sodas in hand. He handed her one can, but then kept his hand extended towards her. “I’m Parker Maguire.”

She took his hand in hers. “Cyn. Nice to meet you.”

He eyes seem to laugh as they shook hands. “Just Cyn?”

“Yes.” Damn, she wasn’t making a very good wild woman. “You know like the artist formally known as Prince.”

This time the smile spread from his eyes to his lips. “Do you have a symbol too?”

“No, Cyn will do.”

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Lena Matthews

“So, Cyn.” Parker opened his can and sat on the far side of the couch. The fact he didn’t immediately plop next to her and get all in her space impressed her. “Tell me what you really think of our club?”

Before she could answer, he interjected. “I mean aside from the watered-down, overpriced drinks and the exuberant bouncer, that is.”

“To be honest—”

“Were you going to lie?”

A smart ass. She was in love. “I was thinking about it.”

“Then I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“No problem.” She smiled. “I’m probably the last person to ask such a question.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m not much of a club goer. I know my presence here is a bit misleading on the matter.”

“Actually it isn’t.” Parker set his drink on the floor next to him. “You seem a bit…”

“Out of place?” That was how she felt anyway. This environment just wasn’t her thing.

“No,” he said. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Try.”

“It’s like being in a room full of wildflowers then spotting a rare orchid, blooming at the edge.” As if he was embarrassed by his wording, he added, “Then imagine the orchid making a three hundred pound bear fear for his life with a snap of her fingers.”

“He wasn’t scared.” Parker delivered the line like a seasoned pussy pro, yet despite knowing that, Cyn found herself preening anyway.

“He was minutes away from surrendering. You had him scared.”

“Who’s the liar now?”

“Would I lie to you?” The teasing tone to his voice was gone, replaced by a heavier, deeper pitch. The underlying sensuality of his words captivated her. Much like the man himself.

“I don’t know.”

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“Would you like to find out?”

The cerulean blue of his eyes were like a cold wave, but Cyn felt anything but chilled. In fact, she was feeling a bit warm. It was becoming extremely evident she needed to get laid. Now the only question was, if Parker was the rain to her drought. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”