Addicted to Mr. Parks (The Park #2) (32 page)

“So.” She crossed her arms as she shifted her focus to me. “This is her.” She cocked her head to the side, studying me. “Could’ve done worse.”

“Jasmine,” Parks scolded her, but I wasn’t offended. It gave me ammunition.

“He could have done,” I agreed. “But now he’s stuck with me.” My malicious grin pissed her off, so I leaned over and planted a long, sexual kiss on Parks’s lips to add more fuel to the fire. When I pulled away and caught her disgust, it was mission accomplished. However, Jasmine found something to equally piss me off.

Looking down at my dress, she examined it, then paid close attention to my necklace. “Michael Costello dress, a necklace that’s worth half a million. You’re already spending his money, I see?”

Half a fucking million? I almost choked on her words, the shock stopping me from a comeback. She made me feel cheap, even with a half-a-mill piece of jewellery around my neck.

“Jasmine, don’t fucking start. What I choose to spend my money on is none of your concern. Apologise to Evelyn. Right now.”

“Ha.” She contorted, turning on her heel, but her action was aborted as Parks grabbed at her arm and spun her around. “I mean it.” He glared.

Jasmine bit her lip aggressively, her stony eyes callous. She was silently warning me to back off but played nice for her brother. “Sorry.”

It was bitter for her but sweet for me. However, Jasmine apologising was not an instant pass for my kindness. Neither was the fact that she was Parks’s twin.

“Shove your sorry up your arse.” I spun around on my heel and took myself away from the bitch before I walloped her one.

“Evelyn, wait.”

I didn’t stop. I carried on bristling through the crowds of people. “Why would you spend that amount of money on a necklace for me?”

Catching up, he curled his arm around my waist and pulled me to a stop. “It’s not about the fucking money. If I like it, I buy it. I want to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy,” I insisted. “But buying me all this stuff is going to make everyone think exactly what Jasmine just said.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he spat bitterly. “I will buy my girlfriend whatever the fuck I like. Let them talk.”

He was right. Why should Jasmine make me feel cheap? But knowing Parks could, and would, give me everything always made me wonder what I could give him.

Not enough
, I thought.

Suddenly feeling drained and exhausted, I walked into his open arms. Everything was happening so fast, not just because he’d taken me to a swanky party, or introduced me to his family, but because my feelings for him were growing. It was like I needed him as much as I’d once craved a drink. Panic would also rush through me when I stopped to think about that for a second. Whenever I started feeling happy, or anything at all, I’d been conditioned to believe someone would take it away from me.

A combination of apprehension and exhaustion washed over me again. I knew I couldn’t let his sister get the better of me. I’d never let anyone get the better of me. Strangely, though, being around Parks’s life, around his family and acquaintances, I had slowly become an object. On the arm of a greatly admired man, behaving perfectly because she was expected to. Like a fucking escort. I briefly glanced around the room, seeing the hundreds of people draped in diamonds and expensive garments, all chatting away, dancing, and looking so at ease. Ease was not what I felt. Out of place and out of touch was what I felt. Well, I was not an escort, and I refused to be censored. If those people didn’t like me as I was, then fuck the lot of them.

My gaze drifted back to Parks. I caught him frowning, as if he was wondering what the hell I was thinking.

“Evelyn? Looks like you’re about to run out on me.”

“I’m just…” I sighed, making Parks uneasy.

“Just what?” He frowned, brushing his thumb over my knuckles.

“Absorbing,” I chose, not really knowing what else to say.

“Absorbing?” He was back to being curiously intrigued. Worried even.

“Yeah, all of this.” I waved my hand in the air, meaning the whole event. “It’s different. That’s all.”

His sigh was short-winded, and he held out his hand. “Princess, listen—”

“Ladies and gentlemen.” A man’s strong voice boomed out of the speakers, interrupting our conversation. “Would you please welcome on stage Mrs. Harriet Parks.” Every head present turned to the stage, then the room erupted in applause a Harriet came on and gracefully positioned herself in front of the mic.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is a great pleasure to welcome you all here tonight to raise awareness and support for Children of Addicts. I want to seize this opportunity to thank you all for your generous donations. My gratitude is endless to you, and to those who work at the heart of my charity.” Her expression fell a little grave as she clasped her hands. “As you know, COA was foundered by myself and my marvellous team four years ago. We work tirelessly to help those children who have been, or are being, affected by parental drug and alcohol abuse.” Parks didn’t look at me, but he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“The mentors and the supporters of this charity have all experienced first-hand how it feels growing up with a parent who is an addict. We want those children to know they are not alone.”

My head dipped, and I was suddenly staring at my feet. Watching Harriet on stage looking heartbroken but extremely passionate about her charity was one of the most heart-warming things I’d ever seen.

“All children deserve a warm, safe place to call home. All children deserve the right to feel loved, feel wanted. Protected. It is not only the
using
who feel repercussions from the use of a substance, it effects everybody around them. Some children are so deeply affected by their parents’ habits that they continue to feel the physical effects straight through to adulthood.”

Harriet’s words were cutting into me, making old and new wounds split open again and pour out the hurt I’ve always felt. But what also spiked my attention was the way Parks was reacting. His expressions were only slight—shaking his head or scoffing briefly—but it was like he wasn’t buying into what his mother was preaching. It made me wonder.

Harriet went on. “COA are here to listen to those thousands of children that have to endure the everyday struggle of living with an addict.”

“I think your mother is exceptional,” I whispered. “Has she ever lived with an addict?”

His eyes narrowed as he briefly flicked his gaze from my eyes to his mother on stage. “Yes.”

Harriet was almost done, so I waited to ask more. “To end on a high note, I thank you all considerably for coming out tonight. Let us all continue to build that support and friendship and find another way for the victims, for the children.”

The room erupted in loud applause, everybody rising from their seats to give Harriet, rightly so, a standing ovation.

Soon after, a quarter of the guests returned to their seats while some hit the dance floor and others conversed.

“So—” I took back my seat at the table, “—your mother grew up with an addict?”

Parks’s hand stiffened around his glass. “Not exactly.”

“Oh my dear grandson, please introduce this pretty young lady to your gran.”

Parks and I glanced up to see a beautiful, petite old lady standing over us. She had soft, flushed, pink cheeks and warm, kind, brown eyes that were tenderly glancing at us both. Her short, brown hairstyle framed a gracefully aged face, and her neck dressed in stunning pears set off her black dress elegantly. She was just about to bend down to kiss her grandson, but Parks pushed up from his chair immediately and welcomed his grandmother with open arms.

“Gran. Where’s Grandad?”

“He’s left. It’s too much excitement for him.” She chuckled, kissing Parks’s cheeks once more, then she moved him out of the way. “Now, please make an old woman happy and tell me that my grandson has finally gone and found himself a beautiful lady?”

“He has.” I smiled, biting the side of my lip a little nervously.
I never get bloody nervous.

“Oh.” She held her palm against her heart, her eyes a little teary. “I’m almost eighty-six years old and never thought I’d see the day.” She cupped my cheek, smiling adoringly.

“Gran, this is Evelyn. Evelyn, my grandmother, Judith.”

“It’s so nice to meet you.” I smiled. “I would say Wade has told me so much about you, but—”

She flapped a hand. “I know my grandson, sweet child. He talks very little. Works extremely hard but does very little else.” She winked.

“Thanks, Gran,” Parks teased.

In the background, Frank Sinatra began to play, which sparked Judith’s attention. “Oh, my sweet Frank.” She began swaying. “Excuse me while I go give it some wiggle.”

Some wiggle? I started laughing and more so when she took Parks’s hand.

“Come on, Wade. Dance with your gran.”

Parks held out his hand. “Lead the way.” Then he glanced to me. “I’ll be right back.”

“You go.” I smiled, bending into the kiss he pressed upon my cheek.

Watching Parks dancing perfectly with his grandmother was a beautiful sight. I even got my phone out to take a couple of photos. Any fool could see how much he adored her, and I wished I could say he looked at his mother the same way, but he didn’t.

I drank back the rest of my orange juice and was suddenly hit by the presence of David, Parks’s PA. What the hell did he want?

“Evey, good evening.” He nodded as he greeted me and lowered himself into the seat where Parks was originally sitting. He looked good in black tux, but he had his greying hair in a ridiculous comb-over, trying to make himself look ten yours younger.

“Dave,” I acknowledged him and couldn’t help smirk at the way his left eye twitched just because he hated me calling him Dave.

“Enjoying the night?” he questioned cryptically, rolling a short glass of brown liquid in his hand.

“Yeah.” My reply was sceptical as I sensed he had an ulterior motive.

“Of course you are. You have a necklace that’s worth more than you could ever dream of having in a lifetime. You’re mingling with celebs and people of a high profession, and you’re wearing a dress that costs thousands of dollars.”

“And you’ll be wearing your drink if you don’t fuck off.” How dare he slither over to my table like a serpent and insult me that way?

The jerk moved in closer, shifting his drink to one side and out of the way of my reach. “I want to make you a proposition, Evey. You leave Wade, and I will make it worth your while.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair, exasperated. “We all know you’re only with him for his money. A woman who was brought up with drug-using parents on a council estate? What do you take me for? I have a check waiting for two hundred thousand. It will set you up. Just leave Wade and we won’t say any more about it.”

For the first time in my life, I was completely and utterly gobsmacked. Did he seriously think I was going to consider his proposal?

“You cheeky bastard,” I snarled, and the shrug of his shoulder made me want to blow.

“You’re a distraction. A mess. If your past got out, it would ruin his name. Why would you want to ruin him? It would be best all round if you left.”

My temper was brewing. My temperature soaring. I knew he hated me; I felt it the first time I met him. But trying to bribe me to leave? Hell no.

“And it would be better all-round if you moved the fuck away from me, because I will not hesitate to punch you in that smarmy face of yours.”

Stiffening his back, he got up to leave, but not before bending down to my ear and whispering, “Think about it.”

I grabbed his bow tie, pulled him down, and snarled in his face. “Fuck off.” I released his tie, and he scarpered away, fixing out his appearance.

Parks was still dancing with his gran, so I was impatiently waited for them to finish so I could go straight over to inform him about his trusted publicist. I swiped my glass into my hand and watched Jasmine slip into the seat David had just left. Jesus. I felt like a bloody chat-show host.

Choosing not to acknowledge her, I kept my focus on Parks. She followed my gaze and smiled at the image of her gran and brother, then glared back at me. If her intention was to try and intimidate me, it wasn’t working.

“He can’t love you, Evey.”

I almost spat out the water that was just falling down my throat. “What?”

She narrowed dark green eyes at me, and a disgusted expression suddenly formed on her pretty face. “You’re an alcoholic. It would never work for reasons you wouldn’t understand.”

The blood that had heated up from her interference had quickly drained from my face, leaving me feeling frozen inside. I felt sick, completely betrayed.

“He…?” Not another word came out of my mouth. I couldn’t speak over the lump that had wedged in my throat.

“Yeah, he told me.” She shrugged with a bare shoulder. “He tells me everything. We share the same problems. I get him. No one understands him the way I do.” Leaning forwards, she made sure I could hear her every word. “You see, you may think he likes you for you, but just know that Wade is a magnet to broken souls. If he focuses on others’ misery, it takes the focus off his own. Wade doesn’t want to try and fix anybody, so if you’re thinking he will heal you somehow, you’re wrong.”