Page 50 of Resisting Temptation

We stay like this for some time, both lost in our own thoughts. “Parker, what happened to you while you were away?” I finally get the guts to ask.

He pulls away from me, goes to a sideboard, and grabs his keys and a leather jacket. “Come on, let’s get you to this party,” he says, completely ignoring my question.

I sigh and follow him out the door, wishing he would open up to me. I could help him. Well, I’m not sure I could, but I would try. But our family’s not like that. Him even pulling me aside tonight to discuss our daddy is so unusual. I should be just grateful for small wins.

As I walk onto the rooftop terrace with Parker, salt spray kisses my face. My eyes widen in absolute awe of the space atnight. With a 360-degree view of the beach, it’s breathtaking. Various shades of a milky white siding coat the exterior, with huge modern planters filled with lush greenery that drapes out of them, curling its way to the tiled floor below. Emerson has strung up lights that add to the charming atmosphere. “Parker, this space is stunning, you have truly outdone yourself.” I smile at my brother, so proud of him.

“Our vision sure did come to life,” he agrees with a nod of his head. No emotion or happiness for the fruits of his labor.

We make our way over to the bar where Emerson and Gisele are handing out flutes of champagne. Emerson decided after all the hard work everyone had put in to get The Alexander looking so fabulous, we should be rewarded with a party on the most spectacular rooftop in town, and us girls all agreed it was a genius idea.

“You girls certainly know how to throw a party,” I gush, opting for a champagne flute filled with orange juice over the champagne she’s handing me. I take a sip as I glance around the beautiful space.

“It’s the least we could do,” Emerson says, kissing Parker’s cheek. “What your team has done is incredible. And the flowers, Paisley, they’re stunning as always.”

“Anything for you guys,” Parker agrees.

I’ve created two large pastel arrangements, one for the bar with draping Amaranthus and another for the top of the doorway. The pop of color, though subtle, adds to the space nicely.

“How are you two holding up?” Emerson asks, glancing back and forth between us, and I can sense her worry. They all would have read that damn newspaper story about our father’s arrest.

Parker shakes his head, and I know he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. “We’re doing just fine.” I plaster on that show-stopping smile they all love and lie through my teeth. I don’tthink I know what it would feel like to be just normal again and be smiling for real. Lying to my best friends all just feels so standard now. It’s scary how easy it is.

“Oh, course you are. But anything you need, you tell me. Okay? I’m here for you both. You have been so incredible to me and Brody in our tough time, and I really can’t thank you enough, so please let me help you. If you need it.”

I lean against the bar. “Thanks, sweetie, we will be sure to let you know.” I spot Beckett sauntering through the door, and I wave.

“What’s he doing here?” Emerson’s expression turns into a scowl. I would have thought after the Founders’ Day parade she was warming to the Prescott boys a little. She and Hamilton were certainly getting along when I saw them together. But who knows, she’s been acting so strange lately.

“I invited him. Be nice,” I tell my friends.

“Why, he’s an asshole. It’s not on us you decided to side with him,” Parker snips, suddenly rejoining the conversation. It’s still a sore point that I’m his campaign manager. But as I told Parker, I’m a big girl with a brain of my own, and I, for one, am glad I sided with him. He’s showing himself to be a worthy candidate.

“You might have had some issues in the past, but we’re all adults here, aren’t we? I’m sure we can put that all behind us. He’s going to be our new mayor. Wouldn’t you prefer to be on his good side?” I smile at them all sweetly like we have already won.

The three of them look back at me with disgust written all over their faces. “No, I would prefer you stop helping him and let Noah win. I still don’t get it,” Parker grumbles, and Emerson nods her head, agreeing with him.

“I don’t trust him, Pais,” Emerson adds.

I stare back at them, kind of shocked they’re still going on about this. Why does everyone say they can’t trust him? Since I put him in his place, he’s been nothing but straight up withme. “There is a lot about Beckett you guys don’t know. If you did, I think you would see him differently. He’s not his father or brother. I think you can understand that we can’t be held accountable for what our families have done in the past.” I eye them both. We all have issues with our parents and wouldn’t want to be put in the same boat as them.

“Beckett.” I kiss his cheek in greeting, happy to see him. “You know Emerson and Parker. Have you met Gisele?”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he says, all charming, holding out a hand toward her.

She flashes her stunning smile and takes his hand. “You’re just like your brother.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He winks, and she laughs.

“I wouldn’t,” Emerson grumbles under her breath then smiles at him sweetly, seeming to just remember her manners. “What can I get you to drink?” she says, ever the perfect host, but there is an edge to her tone.

His eyes rake over her in question. Yeah, something’s not right there. What does he know that I don’t? “You got a beer?” he asks her.

Brody joins Gisele, wrapping a protective arm around her as he glares daggers at Beckett for having the audacity to shake his girl’s hand.

I roll my eyes in his direction. This is some high school shit right here. I’ll never understand why these guys can’t just act like adults and stop fighting.

Parker straightens his shoulders. He’s not comfortable being this close to Beckett since the last time they were, it ended in a fist fight. But it’s obvious that for me he’s trying to be civil, and I appreciate it. “My sister tells me you helped her out with a loan for the flower shop. That was kind of you,” he says, his words laced with skepticism.

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