Page 40 of Parker

Sawyer?No. Sawyer’s busy with Ivy. She’s the only thing on his mind right now. Not to mention, the last couple of times Parker came up in conversation between us, Sawyer warned me to stay away from her.

Reeve?Possibly, but Reeve hasn’t had a nice word for me in years. She sees me as her sister’s tormentor and probably always will. I can’t imagine her trying to help me win Parker over.

Harper?I narrow my eyes at the screen.Maybe Harper.Harper’s always taken on a mama-bear role when it comes to hersiblings. If she felt that I could make Parker happy, she’d risk Parker’s anger to help make it happen.

Aside from those three, there are still more possibilities—my mom, who’s always loved the Stewart girls; Ms. Stewart or Paw-Paw, Parker’s grandparents; or her dad, Gary, my dad’s best friend, who’s been like a surrogate uncle to me. Even Hunter, Tanner, and McKenna have been known to poke their noses into their other siblings’ affairs. Frankly, it could be any of them.

Whois writing to me isn’t actually important. Whatisimportant, is that one, they obviously know us both well; two, their advice isexcellent;and three, they think I stand a chance of winning over Parker.

A smile—real and genuine—blooms across my face as the convention center doors open, and I greet the first wave of travel agents today.

***

Since Parker can “take care of herself,” she’ll just be annoyed if she catches me following her and Rick to lunch. She didn’t ask for my company or protection, and as my mystery texter points out, she likely doesn’t need it.

So, as much as I hate the idea of them dining together, I decide my time can be better spent. With thirty minutes to kill, I get in line for a sandwich at the closest take-out place and turn my attention to the advice of my anonymous friend instead. She loves thoughtfulness, but not with strings attached.

The little turtle charm was thoughtful, I think, but it wasn’t well-received. Maybe because it came from me. Maybe she thought that accepting it from me meant that she owed me something in return.

No strings attached.

Maybe the key to doing something thoughtful for Parker was to do it in such a way that she didn’t feel pressured by or indebted to the giver.

But she loves turtles, right?

Hmm.

On the plane from Seattle to Las Vegas, I watched a tourism promotion video and was surprised to learn that there’s an aquarium at one of the hotels on the strip. In the video, it said that when you buy tickets to the aquarium, part of your admission fee goes back into conservation efforts, protecting natural resources and aquatic species. And I could be remembering wrong, but I’m almost positive that there were sea turtles in the video I watched.

Let’s see…I could get her a ticket to the aquarium and slip it under the hotel room door, and then show up there by chance, and—

No.

She doesn’t like surprises. She likes thoughtfulness with no strings attached.

Think about Parker. Think about Parker.

“What’ll you have?”

I look up to realize that it’s my turn to order. “What’s good here?”

“It’s Vegas,” he says. “Everything’s good.” When I don’t respond, he takes pity on me. “People like the pastrami on rye with mustard.”

“I’ll take one,” I say, handing over my credit card.

“You want all the stuff on it? Sauerkraut? Swiss cheese? Pickles? Or just keep it simple?” he shrugs. “You ask me, simple’s always better.”

“Then keep it simple,” I say.

Keep it simple, I think.

What if I just walked up to her and invited her to go to the aquarium with me tonight?

No grand gestures. No subterfuge. No tricks. No ulterior motives other than wanting to do something together that we both might enjoy. Just a simple invitation.

Convinced that I’m on the right track, I take my sandwich and eat it at an empty counter in the food court, then head back into the convention center. As I’m getting ready to greet the afternoon attendees, Parker returns from lunch alone, headed back toward her table. Her eyebrows are knitted, and her lips are pursed. I know Parker, and Parker ispissed.

“Park!”

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