Red Hunted_An MFM Ménage Romance Page 2

  What was up with his brain this morning? Whatever he’d hoped to have romantically with Fiona vanished years ago. He hadn’t figured out how he felt about her until he was in another relationship, and she wasn’t interested in being his fling or rebound girl.

  He finished getting ready, switched to the mobile cam in his hat, and headed outside. The microphone rested near his ear. “There aren’t a lot of cabs in this town. It’s the kind of thing you have to call for here. But we have an awesome public transportation system, so I’m going to take the light rail and show you the view from there.”

  He’d mostly be filming on the ride, rather than talking. Any narration would be overlaid later. He might be okay holding half a conversation with no one else around, but it caused too many interruptions if he did it in public, unless he had a friend with him.

  Fiona was at the edge of downtown, so it was a short walk to a train station. At ten thirty in the morning, the car he stepped onto was only a quarter full. He scanned the faces of everyone there, and sat next to a man a few years older than him who traveled with a younger girl. Father and daughter, he assumed.

  The girl was probably eight or nine. She looked up the moment Parker sat, blue eyes wide. “Is that a camera on your head?” she asked.

  Her father clenched his jaw and pursed his lips.

  “It is,” Parker said. “I’m making a movie.”

  “Like on YouTube?”

  The train lurched forward and continued on its route. “Exactly like that. I have my own travel channel.”

  “On the internet.” Disdain hung heavy in Dad’s voice. “It’s not a real channel.”

  Parker wouldn’t argue the semantics of what constituted real. He’d done that past the point of nausea enough times. Instead, he shrugged.

  “Why?” Daughter asked.

  “Why do I do this?”

  She nodded.

  Dad studied Parker, as if willing him to say something brilliant yet knowing he wouldn’t.

  “Have you ever wanted to go to Disneyland?” Parker kept his focus on the child.

  “Yes. We went last year, and I met Snow White and the White Rabbit and Goofy.”

  “I went there when I was about your age, and I loved it.” This wasn’t the first time Parker’d had this conversation. There were variations of it smattered through his videos. He used it to fill in back story for new viewers, and he liked hearing people’s responses. “When I got older, like now— Guess how old I am.”

  “Late twenties, maybe,” Dad said.

  Daughter’s jaw dropped open. “You’re so old.”

  Dad huffed, and Parker bit back a laugh. The man was probably in his early thirties. “Old is a relative term.” Parker kept his voice kind. “Anyway, a little while back, I decided I wanted to see more places liked Disneyland, but bigger.”

  “Bigger that Disneyland?” God. The child could be reading from a script. She was perfect.

  “Yup. But it’s expensive to go a lot of places. Your dad works long hours to take you to on vacation, but if you went every weekend, he wouldn’t have time to work. That’s why I started making videos that are good enough people pay me so they can air their commercials while the vids run.”

  “Sell out.” Dad spat out the words.

  Jealous? Parker kept the retort to himself. “My stop is coming up.” He flipped the remote in his pocket to shut off the camera, then looked at Dad. “Professional stuff time. I don’t ever use a minor’s images in my clips, but I would like your written permission to use the audio portion of that conversation.”

  “You’re asking me to sign a release?”

  “This is my livelihood. The form is digital. You can either sign on my tablet now, or give me your email address, and I’ll email it to you for review.” Parker’s conversation tone was gone, replaced with the professionalism that helped keep him from getting sued.

  “All right.” Some of the disdain vanished from Dad’s voice. “I’d like to review it first.” He rattled off his email. “Do you really make money at this?” The professional aspect of things seemed to have shift his mood.

  “Enough to pay the bills and buy souvenirs. Most of my sponsorships come in the form of pre-paid expenses. Tickets, hotel rooms, and food.”

  “Best of luck to you.” Dad extended his hand, and Parker shook it.

  He took the next stop and strolled about a block until he found the address Fiona gave him. He stepped inside the correct suite and paused in the doorway. The sheer contrast of the room was an exercise in manufactured dichotomy. The communal office space was filled with tables—like a cafeteria but steel, glass, and electronic. People occupied about three quarters of the spots.

  Despite the room being mostly full, the loudest sound was the tapping of keys.

  He spotted Fiona across the room, head down, earphones on, and gaze focused on her screen. Nick sat across from her, his back to Parker.

  Fiona looked gorgeous. The tip of her tongue was caught between her teeth. Her dark auburn hair was pulled up top of her head and knotted in place around a pen, and the way she hunched over her laptop pushed her round, full breasts together and out, to strain against her shirt.

  He dragged his gaze away. Don’t ogle her.

  She didn’t look up as he approached. He crouched in front of her and rested a hand on her knee.

  She squealed and jumped, before focusing on him.

  Behind her, every head turned in their direction with a glare.

  “Sorry about that.” He couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice.

  “You’re not, really.” She pushed back and stood, and he joined her. When she hugged him, her body molded to his. He could get addicted to this kind of greeting. He didn’t remember hugs being like this last time he was here, but he wasn’t complaining.

  She grasped his fingers, tugged him toward one of the rooms along the back wall, and closed the door behind them once they were inside. The space had windows that showed the rest of the office, a desk built into the wall, and a chair. There wasn’t space for much else.

  “People come in here to take calls. It’s mostly soundproof, so it keeps more of those nasty glares off us,” she said

  “It’s kind of creepy out there.” He nodded toward the room. “It was like some Children of the Cube-Farm thing. I was going to film, but I’m afraid if I piss off the wrong person, their irritation will devour my soul.”

  She laughed, light and soft. He liked that sound. “That’s probably wise. You can take a wide-angle shot when we leave, as long as you blur it to hide faces.”

  “I promise.” He made a cross over his heart. “I know I’m a little early, but can you sneak away for lunch?”

  She let out an exasperated huff, but it didn’t mar her smile. “I guess, just this once.” She reached for the door handle.

  “Wait.” He grabbed her wrist.

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m going to warn you up front—I’ll have the camera on during lunch. I’ll keep it on me,” he added the last bit when she opened her mouth. “I know how you feel about that. But I’m going to nag you again about joining me on this trip.”

  “Asking me in front of five hundred thousand of your most distant friends isn’t the way to change my mind.”

  Chapter Three

  Nick’s friendship with Parker went back almost as far as Fiona’s. That didn’t stop her from feeling a twinge of something she couldn’t identify, but that tasted bitter, when Nick invited himself to lunch.

  Though Parker was staying at her place, their schedules were such that they hadn’t had much time with just the two of them to catch up, and she’d hoped to get him alone today, before he left again.

  The guys spent most of the meal talking about the video-editing software Parker used, and whether he could hook Nick up with an expert to help him build Facebook video ads. Food came and went, and they lingered at their table, sipping soda refills, while Parker and Nick talked.

  Parker nudged Fiona’s foot
with his. “You’ve been quiet.”

  “Just soaking in the knowledge.” She gave him a weak smile.

  “I’m sorry. This must be draining as fuck for you,” Parker said. “I was supposed to take you away for lunch, but I dragged your office with us.”

  Nick’s phone jangled, as if chiming its agreement. He looked at the screen. “Speaking of... I have to take this.” He swiped. “This is Nicholas Walters... Hey, Chuck. Great to hear from you.”

  Parker tugged Fiona’s fingertips, and she gave him her attention. She much preferred that to hearing Nick’s half of a conversation with their contact at Grammie’s Pastries.

  “I didn’t get to implement my master plan.” Parker’s voice was quiet. “Can I convince you in the next thirty to sixty seconds, while he’s on this call, to go with me when I leave?”

  Her no lodged in her throat. It should be easy to turn him down. She’d been doing it since he brought up the subject.

  “As we discussed before, I’ve signed agreements in every city where you do business.” A thread of stress wove into Nick’s words. The client probably wouldn’t notice, but to Fiona, he might as well be shouting.

  She tried to block out his words, to focus on Parker. Nick would give her the details when he was done. Say no, reason chanted in her head. “Why me?”

  Parker gave her a lazy grin. “You’ll have my back. We always have a blast together. And you want to. This is your chance to see the world on the sponsors’ dime. Or dimes.”

  “Not on such a large scale, no... Of course we can put that in a guarantee.”

  Fiona swore Nick’s tension was contagious. She rolled her neck, to chase away the growing tightness. “What about my apartment? My bills? My student loans?”

  Parker twisted his mouth, then opened it.

  “It’s complicated.” Nick’s voice rose a notch. “I’m not implying that at all. I have no doubt you’d understand, but I don’t want to misspeak. Legal ramifications and all that.”

  Fiona’s lunch soured in her gut, as she pieced together the basics. If they lost this deal, they wouldn’t have enough for salaries in about three months, which meant another job for her. A second, most likely, because she couldn’t stand the idea of abandoning this company.

  Parker studied her, brows pinched. “You all right?”

  “Of course. Let me speak with my team, and I’ll get you an updated proposal. We’ll be in touch soon, Chuck.” Nick disconnected. “Shit. Fuck. God damn it.”

  Fiona looked at him in surprise. Nick never lost his cool like that. This was bad.

  “Problems?” Parker asked.

  Nick scrubbed his face. “Did Red tell you what we’re working on?”

  Normally she hated the nickname, because as a kid it meant someone was teasing her about her hair color. From Nick and Parker, she was okay with it.

  “Uber for cookies?” Parker said.

  Nick’s chuckle was strained. “More or less.”

  “We have a huge client lined up.” Fiona’s mind worked separate as she spoke. “As in... it’s Grammie’s Pastries.”

  Parker’s eyes grew wide. “Huge is an understatement”

  “Right?” Nick smoothed a crumpled straw wrapper, then folded it into tiny squares. “They were an easy sell. Said they liked our personal approach. Individuals delivering their goodies to homes had that Grammie cares feeling.”

  “It was supposed to be a done deal.” Fiona struggled to find a solution, for what they’d do if they lost the contract. Get rid of the space in the communal office? That would buy them another month, maybe.

  Nick sighed. “Chuck wants proof we can operate effectively on such a large scale.”

  Fiona swallowed the frustration that tasted like bile rising in her throat.

  “So give him proof.” Parker made it sound like the simplest solution in the world.

  Fiona shook her head. “Right now we’re doing a handful of deliveries a week. They want dozens a day in every one of their locations.”

  “Our proof is a theory on paper,” Nick said. “He’s seen that, and as of today it’s not enough.” He slid down in his seat. “Without them, there’s no way to do it in practice. They’re our proof, and they’re not interested in being our beta group.”

  Parker, who had listened to the explanation with his brows bunched together, grinned. “Convince them it’s in their best interests to become your pilot.”

  “I don’t think you understand.” Fiona tried to keep her words kind, but this was the wrong moment for one of Parker’s flights of fancy.

  “I get it. Catch 22, right? You can’t prove you can handle their business without their business, which they won’t give you without that proof.”

  “Yeah...?” Nick dragged the word out.

  Parker’s grin grew. “I need a hook for this contest. Fiona needs an excuse to go with me.”

  “So our company falls apart, and you kidnap my sister?” A growl cut through Nick’s question. “Wait. What contest?”

  Parker gave him a rundown of the year-long, streaming, reality competition he’d been invited to. “Here’s what you pitch to Grammie’s. Arrange a batch of deliveries in each city. It doesn’t have to be a full-scale implementation. Do a day’s worth of business in each town. I’ll do a ride-along, stream it, and it becomes free advertising for them and proof of what you’re capable of.”

  “That sounds...” Nick sat straighter. “It’s brilliant. I’d have to sell them on it, but I love it. How does Red fit into all this?”

  “If you do this, her going with me is for the business. Excuse managed.”

  Irritation tickled Fiona’s nerves. “I already told you no.”

  “But you wanted to say yes.” Parker sounded pleased with himself.

  Nick looked back and forth, as if preparing for a tennis match.

  “That’s not for you decide. I’m not going.” Fiona wasn’t going to let this get to her.

  “Because you’re terrified of stepping outside your boundaries.” Parker snapped his jaw shut with a scowl that probably mirrored hers. “I didn’t mean that.”

  But it was out there, shaking the fence she sat on and taunting the insecurities she tried to keep locked behind a gate. “Sorry we can’t all live our lives based on whimsy, and run from anything that looks like it might mean establishing roots.”

  “Whoa.” Nick unfurled a napkin and waved it between them. “Truce. What’s wrong with the two of you?”

  Fiona was done here. She shoved back from the table. “Nothing. You both like this idea, you figure out the details. I’m going back to my desk, to find out a real solution for when Chuck laughs at you.” It was a bad way to finish things—Parker had a good idea—but her ego was limping, and the reasonable part of her said she was being anything but. She needed to put some space between herself and the situation before it slid from bad to unrepairable.

  There was no protest as she walked away, reinforcing the fact that she was making the right decision. That didn’t make it sting any less.

  For the remainder of the afternoon, Fiona tried her damnedest to focus. When coding didn’t keep her attention, she shifted to profit and loss projections, and how they’d change if Grammie’s didn’t work out. The numbers blurred and taunted her, screaming they weren’t going to behave without something drastic. Like Parker’s idea.

  Which brought her frustration rushing back, both with him for refusing to hear her, and with herself for wanting to be convinced but at the same time being unable to make herself say I’ll go.

  He’s not a mind reader, logic taunted her.

  Chapter Four

  The afternoon crept up and then past, and Nick didn’t come back. Five rolled around, and still no sign of him. She packed up her laptop and his, sent him a message telling him she’d drop his computer off at his place, and headed out.

  Parker was waiting for Fiona when she left the building. His lopsided smile made her stomach flip and flutter, and she mentally growled at her reactio
n. “Do you have a minute?” he asked.

  He wasn’t getting away with pushing his will on her by being sexy. It wasn’t fair. She adjusted the two laptop bags on her shoulder and stepped around him. “I have a busy night of anything else waiting for me.”

  “Red, please.”

  The sincerity in his voice shattered her resistance.

  “Let me.” He took both bags from her, and fell into step beside her as they walked toward the parking garage. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  That was generic. She didn’t want to gloss over Parker’s making decision on her behalf. “Did you and Nick get the details worked out?” She stepped up to her car, unlocked the truck, and gestured for him to set the computers inside.

  “I’m serious.” He offloaded his bundle and turned to face her. “I’m not just saying words, to get back into your good graces. I was being selfish about this whole thing. You made your stance clear, and I won’t mention the contest again. Except for...” He winced.

  She clenched her jaw. “Except for what? Does it have anything to do with the question you avoided?” At this point, she was taking her indecisiveness out on him. It wasn’t fair, but it kept her from blaming herself.

  “Nick wanted to be the one to give you the news, but I talked him into letting me do it. We worked up a preliminary proposal, and he sent it to Chuck. They signed off on a one-week trial run, with the option to extend to a month and then longer, if things work out. I have my hook, and the two of you have a path to proof. I’m hoping you’ll come celebrate with me.”

  “And...?” She waited for him to sneak in a line like, so I have one more chance to talk you into going with me.

  “No and. This is you and me, hanging out the way we used to. A few hours of us time before I go.”

  “Deal.” She smiled. She still hated that she was torn about whether or not to go with him, but she’d take the rest without question.

  WYATT TOOK A SEAT AT the bar, and he scanned the room. It was a Monday night, so there weren’t a lot of people. That was fine. He needed to sit, unwind, and decide if coming to Salt Lake was as wise as it sounded twenty-four hours ago. The competition was in town, and he was going to pay them a visit tomorrow. See if he could side-step Chuck’s manipulation and make a deal that guaranteed Wyatt the contract.