Page 52 of House of Desire

“Papa,” she says, dropping her face in her hands, embarrassed, a blush creeping up her neck

I press my leg against hers under the table, offering silent comfort.

“I have no doubt she does. It looked like an amazing shop and I could taste the love she puts into her cupcakes,” I say, causing her blush to deepen and my chest to warm at the sight.

“Would you expect her to give up her dream for yours? Where is your company even located? If you don’t even live in the same state—”

“Dad,” Anastasia interrupts, “he lives here. He wouldn’t expect me to give up my bakery.”

“She’s right. If it’s something she’s passionate about, I would support her in whatever way she needs. In fact, after tasting one of her cupcakes this morning, I have every intention of instructing my team to use her for the cookies and cupcakes we give to our clients when they move in. Unfortunately, I can’t talk to my business manager until I’m off the show since our phones were confiscated, but it will be a change I implement immediately.”

I didn’t mean to say this. Even though it’s true, I don’t want Anastasia to think I’m simply trying to win points with her parents. Her baking is so good, everyone should try it. No matter if it works out between us or not.

Her hand slides onto my thigh under the table, giving it a squeeze. I press my elbow to her arm for a moment before we both retreat to our own space again. Catching the look her parents share, I know it’s time for us to split off. Production requires I have one-on-one time with at least one parent for each woman so they can get footage of me talking about my feelings more. When it happens, and with which parent, is up to them.

“Parker, would you mind joining me for a drink outside? I’d just like to spend some time with you one-on-one,” Gwen says.

“It’d be my pleasure.” I stand from my chair before bending down and placing a kiss atop Anastasia’s head. “I’ll be back,” I tell her.

“I’ll be here.”

Anya’s mother grabs her glass and the half empty bottle of wine from the table before making her way through the kitchen and out the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. The space is simple, but inviting. She sits on an outdoor couch as I take a chair next to her.

“Do you want to know how long I’ve been married, Parker?” she asks, topping off my glass of wine.

“I’d love to,” I say, taking a sip, wondering how this conversation will go. The talk I had with Leslie’s father about blood lines and how his daughter is meant for society, not working, could have gone better. But I don’t think Anastasia’s parents have an elitist bone in their body.

“I have been married for forty-seven years. Anya’s father proposed to me when I was just sixteen. Our parents wouldn’t hear of it, of course, but they just assumed our engagement would end when our relationship took its natural course. As one does, during those years.

“But we knew what we had was real. Anastasia wants that. She doesn’t need the ring or the paper or anything, but if she commits, if you do this with her, that’ll be it. Are you prepared for that?

“Are you prepared for commitment?”

I consider the question thoughtfully. While I don’t think I know any of these ladies well enough to get married tomorrow, I consider if I even want to be married again. Something I had considered in an abstract kind of way is now not an abstract thought.

Marriage doesn’t mean the person is going to stay.

“I’m prepared to see where things go because I don’t think I can say I’m prepared for marriage at this moment. You might not know this about me, but I was married before. I didn’t take that commitment lightly. I didn’t take the ending of it lightly. And I won’t enter into another relationship lightly.”

“Why are you on this show if you’re not looking for love?” she asks, frankly. I appreciate her directness.

It’s a fair question and until this moment, I couldn’t admit the answer even to myself.

I stare out at her backyard, feeling like I’m on Sharon’s couch during a therapy session. Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I tell the shadows and darkness my truth.

“Because I hoped I would find someone who made me think I deserved it.”

There’s not a single camera in the room. Not a single other person. Nothing. I’m completely alone, waiting for Parker, and a part of me wants to run around the room naked and screaming just because I can. But a knock sounds at the door of my villa within the tropical inspired resort I arrived to the night before, and I know my Desire Suite date is about to begin. My hand shakes so much as I reach for the door handle, I almost can’t grasp it on the first try. Despite Parker’s enthusiastic request for me to continue on the show with him in the last candle ceremony, I’m still nervous.

The Desire Suite dates are the last dates before the finale of House of Desire, when the proposal will happen. While the purpose of this last date is for the couple to get to know each other without any cameras around, it has become assumed sex happens more often than not. And while I’m attracted to Parker, because I have a pulse, I’m just not sure I can have sex with someone I barely know.

Sure, we’ve done one therapy session together that was way more effective than I ever anticipated. And sure, he’s met my parents. Something someone hasn’t done in quite some time. And they loved him.

But there’s an intimacy in sharing yourself with someone I’m not sure I want to do yet. I’m not a virgin, by any means. I’ve had one-night stands and friends with benefits arrangements. Mutually beneficial situations where there were no feelings on either side. The person was no one to me, romantically.

But Parker?

Parker could be someone to me romantically, and once sex is involved, you can never go back. That and he’s still, technically, dating Carmen and Leslie for the show. I want to be able to cross that line when I know he’s just mine.

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