Overcome (3 page)

Chapter 4

Parker

“How can we open without money?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed at Parker. The cash register rattled and dinged when Spencer slammed it shut.

Parker wasn’t sure what Spencer had gotten into the night before, but by three in the afternoon one would think his hangover would be gone.

“I thought you had it.” Parker defended himself.

Spencer groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Where’s the Tylenol?”

“How much did you have to drink last night anyway?”

“I think the correct question is
what
did I have to drink? I don’t remember.” Spencer mumbled and reached above him, flipping on the switch. “Dude, I can’t drive back to the hotel and …”

“Fine, I’ll go.” Parker tightened his jaw. “If that kid from yesterday comes around, his meal’s on the house.”

“What …” Spencer flinched when he opened his eyes wider. “Oh, the scrappy homeless looking kid with that curly haired chick.” The sloppy circles he made with his pointer finger looked more like he was implying she was insane than stating she had curly hair. “Dang …” he pulled open one of the steel drawers under the register. “I know there’s got to be pain killers here somewhere.” The junk drawer rattled when he rooted through it. “Don’t we have a first aid kit?

“Don’t they only have stuff like burn cream and bandages?” Parker clenched his jaw, the keys bit into his palm as he squeezed his fist.  He knew if he left, Spencer wouldn’t get everything put together in time to open.

“I don’t know,” Spencer mumbled under his breath as he banged around, opening and shutting doors so fast he wouldn’t have time to see them anyway.

When Parker stepped off the truck, the street had a light buzz with the vendors preparing for the evening. Tomorrow would be their first full day. He hoped that Spencer would resist his urge to party, so he would be coherent before noon.

He made his way through the festival, to the Jeep. It still smelled of the gallons of cologne Spencer doused himself in back at the hotel. He nearly choked Parker with it—trying to cover the stale stench of alcohol permeating from his pores.

The ride to the hotel didn’t take as long as Parker thought it would. He drove above the speed limit and weaved in and out of traffic.

When he whipped into the parking lot, it was as if she appeared out of nowhere—a blond-sparkly-purple blur.

The tires screeched when he slammed on the brakes. What was she doing here? His heart pounded and she flipped her face toward him, holding her phone to her ear. Typical girl, of course she wouldn’t be paying attention, she was too busy gossiping to care whether she’d be run over or not.

Her face turned to the scowl she wore the night before and she lifted her middle finger from her free hand at him. The little bit of attraction he’d had for her disappeared.

Parker whipped into the first empty space as soon as she was out of his way.  By the time he was out of the Jeep, she’d almost reached the glass double doors entering the lobby.

“You should watch where you’re going!” Parker shouted as he jogged toward the entrance.

With her hand already on the handle, she turned and glared at him. Her mouth was puckered and her eyes slits, like she was trying to summon up a super power to slice him with lasers. Of course, she still had that phone up to her ear.

“Pedestrians have the right-away. Maybe you should retake driving lessons before you kill someone.” She turned back to the doors and pulled it open. “Bree, you still there …” she said into her cell phone before the door closed behind her.

Parker froze.
Did she say Bree?
Maybe he heard her wrong. She could have said Dee or Lee? He stood staring at his reflection in the dark glass, paralyzed at the thought of the name. It
was
possible. He tried to remember the last time he thought about Bree … and Maggie.

“Excuse me,” a raspy woman’s voice said.

Parker turned and nodded at the lady who smelled like stale cigarettes, her straw-like hair stuck up in several directions.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and pushed the door open, holding it to let her through.

“Thank you,” she spoke without smiling.

Parker ignored the rudeness and continued in. The cigarette smelling lady’s heels clicked when she stalked to the front desk, where Carly was perched behind.

Parker blinked.
She works here?
Good thing he’d be at the festival more than the hotel.

Parker paced by the counter, his hands in his pockets and face toward the floor. He pushed into his room. The green money bag lay on top of the wooden dresser, right beside the television—where Spencer had dropped it the night before.

As he reached for the door, the sack hanging from his hand, his phone buzzed. He wasn’t surprised to see Spencer’s name above the text when he dug it out of his pocket.

Spencer: There’s no medicine on this sticking thing. Check to see if they have any at the front desk.

Parker stared at the text, debating on just telling Spencer he never received it. But it was either check for him, take that much longer getting back to the truck, or deal with Spencer hung over all night.

The stale cigarette lady was gone when he stepped around the corner. Carly hovered over the computer, her hair covered her face. The light click of the keyboard echoed through the empty foyer.

Parker approached the counter, the green money bag at his side.

She didn’t look up—continued to type like he wasn’t there.

Parker cleared his throat.

Her fingers stopped and hovered over the keyboard. She blinked up at him, tucking her curls behind her ear. “Can I help you?”

“Do you have pain killers?”

Her mouth opened and she rolled her eyes at him like he was an idiot. “Do I look like a drug dealer or something?” She splayed her hand flat on the glass surface between them. Her finger nails were short and glossy dark purple.

“This is the service desk, isn’t it?” Parker nodded toward the golden sign hanging behind her. “I just need something over the counter.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh and turned around to the cabinet behind her. “We don’t have any for guests, and even though you almost killed me out there, I’ve got some in my purse. But I’m only helping you out because what you’re doing for Bryson.” She opened the door, a bright violet bag hung off a hook. 

“Is Bryson related to you or something?” He watched as she dipped her hand into her purse, having to stand on her tiptoes. The fact that she wasn’t wearing shoes seemed odd, yet kind of interesting to him at the same time.

“He’s my best friend’s little brother.” The pill bottle rattled in her hand. She turned back and dumped two pills into her palm. She strode back toward him. “Bree’s got a lot going on and …”

Now that time he knew he heard right.
Bree
she definitely said Bree. His heart sped up and his throat felt like it was closing. Carly’s voice was distant and he didn’t hear a word beyond the name.

“Hello? Do you want these or not?” She snarled while waving her fist in front of him.

“Yeah,” was all he could bring himself to say.  Just because her best friend’s name was Bree didn’t mean it was the same Bree. But if it was, that meant Bryson was ...

“Are you okay?” she snapped.

“Uh … yeah, thanks,” Parker said, suddenly lacking coherent vocabulary. He held out his hand. Carly’s palm was smooth and made something inside him flutter when it brushed against his. Her eyes met his, widening, only for a second, making him wonder if she felt it too. She turned away from him as fast as he felt like turning.

“Thanks again,” he mumbled to the floor before shoving the pills into his pocket.

Chapter 5

Carly

Carly watched Parker almost trip over his clunky tan work boots when he hurried toward the door. The money bag slipped out of his hand and he caught it just before it hit the ground. Another guest, a man in a business suit, nearly hit Parker’s head when he bent down to grab it. What was going on? He didn’t seem like the nervous type last night. The business man gave Parker what looked like an apology then nodded at Carly as he strutted by.

Carly’s phone rattled on the counter.

“Where’re your shoes?” Judd asked as he pushed by her to the computer, an invoice in his hand.

Judd had been working for the hotel since he was her age, some years he was maintenance, some the pool boy, others he worked front desk, wherever her mom, the manager, needed him. He graduated college a few weeks ago and he was given the assistant management position.

“Back there.” Carly nodded to the corner where her glittery flip-flops sat. She curled her toes under her feet, like that was going to hide the fact that they were bare.

He shook his head with a slight, deep laugh as he began to type into the computer.

The heels clopping from the hall leading to the office meant her mom was on her way out. Judd’s neck practically twisted completely around from what he was doing.

Carly’s mom’s shoulder-length-professionally-layered-sandy-blond hair bounced as she clopped toward them. “Judd, can you make sure that purchase order gets filled in before you leave?”

“Working on it now,” he nodded his beach-blond head toward the computer. 

Carly couldn’t wait until they were both gone and no longer hovering over her.

“Hey mom,” Carly said when her mother’s eyes didn’t leave Judd.

Amy blinked before turning to Carly, “How was school?”

“It sucked, just like I told you it would.”

“I’m sure you’re just being dramatic,” Amy sighed and adjusted her purse strap over her shoulder. Her keys rattled from her hand. Carly glanced at Judd, who instead of typing in the purchase order was staring at her mom. Carly wrinkled her nose at this. Judd had no standards.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She addressed Judd then turned to Carly. “If I’m still up when you get home, I’ll see you tonight.”

She wasn’t going to be up when Carly got home. The minute her mom walked in the door after work she hit the shower then went straight to her bed, where she watched television all night. Her dad came home, hit the fridge for his six pack and sat on his La-Z-Boy, where he lulled in and out of sleep for sometimes all night. Carly didn’t mind though, at least if they didn’t interact, they weren’t fighting.

*****

Hours into her shift, Carly was alone and sitting on the counter. With her legs curled up to her chest, she swiped dark violet polish over her toes.

It was the low, drawn out whistle that brought her attention up. The guys from the food truck came strolling in. The shaggy one had his head down and his hands in his pockets. His face obscured by the bill of his hat.

The blond, who looked more put together in his shiny tennis shoes, unbuttoned-button-up-shirt with a crisp tee under it and spiky hair was grinning at her, one eyebrow cocked so high it nearly reached his hair line.  His smile was big with bright-white-perfectly-straight teeth.

“Hey,” he drawled as his beaming blue-green eyes scanned her legs. He strolled toward her and his brother kept walking without saying a word, like she hadn’t done a huge favor for him earlier.
What a jerk, at least he could wave.

Blondie propped his elbow up on the counter, right next to her sparkling toes. “What’s up?” His forearm grazed her foot, blatantly on purpose. She didn’t move.

“Working, can’t you tell?” She returned his easy smirk. Spicy cologne mixed with the smell of fried food wafted off him.

He chuckled. “Yeah, looks like it. What was your name again?”

She wanted to come up with something snarky like none of your business or something, but he might be fun. “Carly.”

“Spencer.” He nodded, his smile tilted.

“What’s up with your twin?” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. Why did she care anyway?

“My twin?” He tilted his head to the side like a puppy when its name is called.

“Your brother, Peter.” She spoke slower this time, dipping the nail brush into the bottle.

Spencer let out a low chuckle. “Yes, he
is
a peter, but that isn’t his name. It’s Parker and he’s not my twin, not even my real brother.”

“Huh?” She curled her lip up.

“He’s adopted.” Spencer stared at her hands as she painted another toe.

“Interesting …” she paused for second. “Wait …” she dropped the brush without even thinking.  Purple dots fell onto the glass. “Crap.” She muttered and hopped to the floor.

“We’re really cousins.” Spencer said like it was his admission to not being related to Parker that stunned her.

Carly hurried to pick up the fallen nail polish and close it up before it could do more damage. Her mom was going to freak at the dotted purple counter top.

“But … wait …” Carly looked back up at Spencer. “When was Parker adopted?”

Spencer’s mouth twitched. “What does that matter?”

She blinked and waved her hand in a circle. “Just like … was he adopted as a baby or was he older … say like five?”

Spencer’s eyes widened like two saucers. “Whoa, are you physic?”

“So he
was
five?”

Spencer took a slow step back.

Carly didn’t think before she was stalking around the desk and down the maroon hall toward their room.

“Whoa … wait … what are you?”

She banged on the wooden door with the gold 115 across it. That’s how flustered she was, it hadn’t even crossed her mind to have Spencer let her in.

“Hey, be careful.” Spencer eased in between her and the door. “What do you want Peter for anyway?” He smirked when he spoke his brother’s name.

“I need to see him now.” She pointed toward the floor.

“Okay.” Spencer said as he turned toward the door and shoved in the keycard, the light blinked green and he pushed inside.

Parker stood over the bed, bare-chested. Clothes spilled out of his bag, sitting in the middle of the mattress.  “Spence …” he began to say.

“Seems you have a lady visitor, little bro,” Spencer said before Parker could finish his sentence. Carly pushed her way in like she had every right to be there. She kind of did though. The hotel
was
like her second home.

Parker’s big brown eyes blinked up at her. His mouth gaped open.

“I need to talk to you.” Her voice was quick and her heart thundered in her chest as she spoke. If he was who she thought he was—was
sure
he was—especially now looking at him, she had to let Bree know.