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Uploaded December 1, 2023 - Blooper Scenes for Unhinged Parker in The Coldest Passion

Author’s Note: I love a good touch her and die asshole. I read them, they are hilarious, and usually so, so hot. When I first wrote Parker in these two scenes (one in chapter three and one in chapter four), I made him a bit unhinged. It was a little too much for my editors, who thought he was too violent and angry toward Liz. So, I mellowed him out! But I know some folks want to see the OG scenes, so here they are!

Chapter Three Blooper Scene - Unhinged Parker at the restaurant

Context: This is when Parker and Liz are at the restaurant celebrating Emily’s birthday and Liz arrived late and sat next to him. Parker hates her at this point but finds himself inconveniently attracted to her for, at the time, mysterious reasons. He’s angry, he’s pissed off, and he kind of takes it out on her.

James waves his white napkin in the air. “A smart man always knows when to back down, especially when his opponents are four beautiful women.” He looks at Jess with his heart in his eyes, and said softly, “I’ll watch it with you later, sweetheart. This seems right up your alley.” My chest spasms in a flash of pain as I look at the two lovebirds. I could’ve had that with Abby, maybe, if we had more time. Could have, should have, two phrases that are frequent flyers in the airline of my daily inner dialogue. I massage the invisible soreness, the pressure a temporary salve to a permanent wound. Clenching my fists, I struggle to regulate my breathing as my sadness quickly morphs into the anger.

So much fucking anger.

“Are you okay?” Liz taps me on the shoulder.

“Funny you should ask that. You, of all people,” I spit out. I ball up my napkin, throw it on the table, and stand up. “Excuse me guys, I need to use the bathroom.”

I spin around and stride away without a backwards glance.

After I finish my business in the bathroom and wash my hands. I splash some cold water onto my face in an attempt to reset the madness threatening to break free from within. I catalog my haggard appearance in the mirror: the same golden-brown hair, shorn shorter at the sides and haphazardly arranged on top, the same green eyes that look dull to me, but no one seems to notice, faint lines around my eyes, five o’clock shadow. By all appearances, I resemble the Parker Wellington from three years ago before Abby passed, but the changes are there, the shadows under my eyes, the dimples that rarely make an appearance unless in public.

I can do this. Fake it until you make it.

Taking a deep breath, I practice my usual smile. Still very convincing. I can do this.

I toss a paper towel in the trash can and open the door, preparing myself to face my friends again.

Liz stands in front of the door in her fiery glory, blocking my exit. She’s vibrating with anger, her normally calm blue eyes darkening with intensity, her tempting lips flattening as she glares at me, tapping her feet on the ground.

“Are you going to move? This is the men’s room. The women’s room is next door.”

She steps closer as I flatten my back against the closed bathroom door. Stabbing her index finger at my chest, she accuses, “What’s the problem with you? Do you have an issue with me?” She seems so small to my six-foot one-inch frame, and yet, when she’s angry, standing up for herself, she’s glorious.

Breathtaking.

If only things were different.

“What are you talking about? I don’t have time for this.” I make a move to sidestep her.

She pivots, her eyes flashing in anger as her she raises her voice. “I’ve never done anything to you. Anything. What did I ever do to deserve this treatment from you? How dare you make someone who has been anything but nice to you feel this way?”

I snort, if she only knew what she did. How my life has fallen apart because of her. How I’m a ghost of my former self because of her. How I’m just a walking corpse, waiting for my time to run out in this world.

All because of her.

“Move, Liz. Before I make you.”

Instead of backing down, this appears to inflame her even further and she resumes stabbing at my chest again. “Answer me, Parker. What did I ever do to you?”

Predator instincts stir inside me as molten lava rushes through my veins. I grab her fingers mid-stab and her eyes flare at the expression on my face.

“Don’t test me, Liz. Don’t you fucking test me.”

Our breathing grows ragged in the narrow hallway as I war with an impulse to either strangle her or to kiss her senseless. What the fuck? I settle for gripping her fingers tightly, not enough to injure, but enough to give her a small glimpse beyond the veil into the darkness. Her lips part as she takes in short breaths, the fluttering in her neck becomes more pronounced, beckoning me like a beacon in the night. I swallow the lump in my throat and sidestep her successfully this time, leaving her frozen in position and stride toward the dining area.

“Why did you offer me the nanny job, if you hate me so much?” A slight tremor appears at the end of her question.

The naked vulnerability in her voice halts me in my steps.

“Fuck if I know.”

And, deep down, I really don’t want to know.

Chapter Four Blooper Scene - Unhinged Parker at the club

Context: This is the scene in the beginning of the book where Liz and her girlfriends along with James and Parker went clubbing at Ambrosia to celebrate Emily’s birthday. Liz did a sexy dance on the dance floor and Parker was HOOKED but he still hated her at that time. She went to the bathroom and got accosted by a drunk asshole on her way out and Parker comes to the rescue (but is still an ass):

I shake out my arms and legs and roll my shoulders as the strange tension slowly dissipates. Better. Much better. Taking a deep breath, I open the door to return to my friends.

“Hey gorgeous. I saw you dancing out there just now. You’re so sexy.” A tall, wiry banker-type of man waits for me outside of the bathroom, leering at me.

Unease circles my gut as I look around. The hallway is dim and unusually quiet. I should’ve taken up Jess’s offer to come with me. “Thanks.” I give him a shaky smile as I brush past him, anxious to leave.

He grabs my wrist in a tight grip. “Hold on a second. You were aching for it on the dance floor. I could see it.” He tugs me to him and I smell a strong stench of whiskey on his breath as he draws me close. “Come on, I can satisfy you tonight.”

I struggle in his arms and raise my voice, trying not to let the panic show through. “Let go of me this instant. I’m not interested.”

“You’re so cute, baby. You’re just playing hard to get. Come on girl, I know what you need. You looked so hot for it out there. I can give it to you. All night long.” His grip is bruising my wrist and I try to tug free to no avail. Just as I’m about to give his feet a hard stomp with my stilettos followed by a swift kick in the balls, a familiar gravelly voice bellows in the background.

“Drop her hand and back off. She said no.”

Parker.

I sense his presence as he prowls over in measured steps.

“Who the fuck are you? Mind your own business,” the sleazebag grounds out, his earlier bravado quickly disappearing as Parker approaches me.

“If you don’t drop of her hand right now and back away, I will physically remove it from your body.” I hear a crack, akin to someone cracking their neck or their knuckles. “Trust me, I’ll enjoy every moment of it because I’m aching for a fight,” he growls out.

Sleazebag looks behind me as his pallor turns green and he quickly releases me and scurries away. The wimpy bastard.

I let out a shaky breath. I know that was a close one. If Parker wasn’t here, things could’ve gone south very quickly. I rub my red wrist, wincing in pain. There’ll no doubt be a bruise there tomorrow against my pale skin.

“What the fuck were you thinking?! Can you do anything right? Is your sole existence to destroy other people’s lives and quite possibly your very own?”

I snap my head up and find Parker in front of me, his emerald eyes, normally crinkled at the corners to everyone except me, are now eerily cold and intense. If there’s such a thing as an icy inferno, his expression will be it. Anger boils inside me and just as I’m about to give him an enormous piece of my mind, he grabs my wrist and smooths his thumb over the red marks. His touch awakens every nerve ending on my body, and I suddenly find myself speechless. The pain on my wrist is replaced with something else…something headier. Goosebumps form on my skin as he lightly circles the tender flesh, his gentle touch completely at odds with the harshness of his face. He takes a few steps toward me, backing me to the door, a complete reversal of our encounter earlier in the evening.

“Why you?” he whispers as his forehead dips toward mine. My eyes flutter close as I’m ensnared by the rioting emotions within us. The hallway is quiet except for the muted music from the dance floor far away and the sounds of our ragged breathing. With my every inhale, my breasts graze the solid wall of his chest. “What do you want from me?” he rasps out as his forehead touches mine. Notes of amber and bergamot waft to my nose. His unique scent.

The panic and fear from earlier dissolves, replaced with a heavy dose of molten heat. My eyes snap open as his forehead lifts from mine and I find his forest green eyes glinting in the dim light, his pupils blown. He is standing so close to me, a few centimeters more and we’ll be flush against each other.

Sometimes, the shortest distance feels the longest.

I hold my breath as my mind blanks, unable to remember the thousand logical reasons why I should step away or the millions of red flags warning me to stay away. Parker releases his grip on my hand as he trails his fingertips lightly up my arms before stopping at my neck, eliciting goosebumps in its wake. Helpless to resist the blazing fire that is burning me from within, I lean away from his touch, inadvertently baring my racing pulse to him. His large palm encircles the column of my neck, his thumb stroking the sensitized skin there.

“So fragile yet so strong at the same time,” he whispers, his eyes on my thundering pulse, “so innocent yet so guilty, all wrapped up in one fucking tempting package.” His riddles make no sense, but he pays me no heed. I should run. A normal person will run away. But I find I can’t move, that somehow, I want to prolong this moment with him.

He softly squeezes the tender flesh, not enough to cut off my airway, but enough to dominate, to elicit a gasp from me at the unexpected pressure. All my senses are on fire as I thirst for something I cannot name. My tongue slips out to wet my parched lips and his eyes zero in on the movement, naked desire swimming in his gaze. A moan catches in my mouth as my nipples prickle to attention, aching for this strong, virile man before me.

Nothing makes sense.

He stares at the hard nubs protruding from my dress, tempting him, beckoning him, provoking him. Touch me. “Fuck,” he groans as his breathing becomes heavier. A muscle ticks in his jaw as he vibrates with tension, and I wait for the inevitable to happen…for him…to just…snap.

But he doesn’t.

He lets go of me and steps away slowly, his eyes finally returning to my face. A mask of indifference replaces his ravenous expression mere seconds ago.

“Jess asked me to look for you,” he said, his voice emotionless and aloof, as if the last few minutes were figments of my imagination. Only a slight tremor in his hands gives him away. At my silence, he continues, “You coming?”

He turns his back on me and walks away for the second time tonight.

Uploaded May 16, 2023 - Scrapped scene in The Sweetest Agony

Author’s Note: This is a chapter I wrote that I had to scrap 90 percent of to improve the flow of the story! This takes place before James, our hero, moves back to LA after spending a decade apart from the girl he loves, Jess. Hope you enjoy!

Present

Jess

The shrill sound of the alarm cuts through my deep sleep. I groan and hit the snooze button on my iPhone. Rise and shine Jess, it’s time to wake up. I got this. I’m going to kick ass at whatever I’m going to do today. I’m more than my anxiety. I’m a badass. I repeat my daily morning mantra as if saying it every day will actually make me believe it, but it has become a habit and I’m a stickler for habits. After five minutes of wishing I were still in dreamland, I roll out of bed, my normally straight black hair in a tangled mess rivaling Anna’s bedhead in the opening scenes of Frozen.

I look at the whimsical unicorn alarm clock next to my bed and gasp. Shit! 9:20 a.m. Ten minutes until my bi-weekly FaceTime call with James. I scamper to the bathroom and quickly comb out the rat’s nest in my hair and throw it into a high bun. I shrug on a pair of plaid flannel pants and don't even bother to change out of my soft pink sleep camisole. I quickly brush my teeth and splash some ice-cold water on my face in a last-ditch attempt to make myself appear a bit more awake. I waddle back onto my bed just as my phone rings.

“Morning Jessica Kingsley,” a familiar friendly face with deep blue eyes and a wry grin greets me. “You just woke up, didn’t you? You look like a mess.”

“You are supposed to say, ‘Jess, good morning, you look awesome and ready to take on the day.’ You are most definitely not supposed to comment on my disheveled appearance. How do you even get girls? It’s a wonder Claire puts up with you,” I retort.

He chuckles, his voice deep and warm. “My bad, Jess, you look awesome today.” Then, he actually dares to roll his eyes at me.

“I only get up so early on Saturday morning for you mister. It’s only nine-thirty. You know me, I usually get up at five on the weekdays and Saturday is my only rest day. Darn you and your London hours. If I didn’t like you so much, I’d say screw you and we can converse over texts.”

“Well…I’m honored.” He outright laughs at my complaints which only serves to frustrate me even more. “I do have some big news for you. But before I tell you, how was the last two weeks, Ms. Auditor?”

“Just a bit stressed out. I’m good at my job and I do get a secret nerdy thrill after I finish an engagement and issue financial statements. But there is so much work and so little support from the firm. While I love the flexibility and stability, there’s a reason they don’t make TV shows featuring accounting firms. We aren’t exactly exciting or sexy.”

“What on earth are you talking about? From all the gossip you text me about, there seems to be plenty of excitement and sexiness going around.” Leave it to James to contradict me as always.

“That’s just water cooler gossip. Speaking of gossip, Becca told me Gracie the intern got caught making out with Rob the other day in the copy room. Now, they’re dealing with HR because she reports up to him on his audit. That kept the Microsoft Teams chats active for most of Friday”. As an audit senior manager at Anderson and Little, one of the largest firms in the world, I’m technically not supposed to be partaking in office gossip because I’m supposed to be exhibiting professionalism but really, who can resist?

“Is this the intern who was dating the other associate from the tax department last month?” he inquires in a serious tone but his sapphire eyes dance as if mocking me for how much I’m enjoying the office gossip.

“That’s the advisory department. The tax teams are too busy to even eat their meals on time, it’s almost September fifteenth! I bet they don’t even remember to eat.”

“Well, other than Gracie seemingly having a life, how are things with you?”

“I talked to my coach and he said that I need to sell more if I want to be considered for partnership this upcoming review cycle. I don't know what he expects me to do, it's not like million-dollar clients drop in from the sky every day. I’m already going to multiple networking events every week and eating most of my lunches with prospects, but no one is ready to jump ship yet… Something about the volatile market and the optics may not look good to investor if they switch audit firms. Then, I’m on this IPO job and half of my staff quit over the last few weeks. At this rate I’ll need to do the entire audit myself. I don't know how I’m going to get through the next few weeks.”

“That doesn’t sound fun, must be tough.” He nods, a small frown marring his forehead. “What do you need from me? To listen or brainstorm on some paths forward?”

I always appreciate this about James. He always talks me down from a cliff. His soothing voice is a balm to the turbulent moods swirling in me. “Thanks. Just talking to you is enough. It's just been a bit rough and I can’t share my feelings with my team.”

“Are you eating on time these days? I know you usually skip meals when you’re stressed. Repeat after me, you got this Jess.” At my silence, he continues, “You’ve done this before and you’ll do this again. You’re the most hardworking person I know. You’re stressed because you care about the quality of work you put through but time and time again, you’ve achieved impossible deadlines in tough situations. Text me if you need a break from your work-a-thons. I’m here, you know that.”

His steadfast faith in me seems to come from nowhere. I wish I’ve the same faith in myself. I always feel like an imposter, a little girl wearing her mother’s clothing, and someday everyone will see what a fraud I’m.

“I can hear your wheels turning. Do you know, I once read a study that up to seventy five percent of executive women experience imposter syndrome?”

I narrow my eyes at the screen, “How do you know what I’m thinking as always?”

His full lips tilt up to the right in a smirk. “I’ve known you for how many years now? Twenty years? And plus, you’re gnawing on your bottom lip again. You do that when you’re stressed.”

“Nineteen. Not that I’m counting.” I retort, releasing my lip from the savagery of my teeth.

“Enough about me, how are you and Claire doing?” I get off the bed and walk to the kitchen to make a hazelnut latte from the Nespresso machine James bought me last Christmas because he knows I’m not fit for public consumption without my morning cup of coffee, or sometimes, two cups, okay, maybe three cups max.

James’s normally clear blue eyes shutter down. “We broke up.”

“Whoa! What happened? You should have opened the conversation with that!”

“It’s nothing warranting discussion. It’s probably a long time coming.” He grunts out the bare minimum to answer my question.

“See? This is what other people are talking about. James Chapman, a private man of few words. If I, as your oldest friend, can only get two sentences from you regarding such a big event, I can only imagine what strangers or coworkers get out of you.” I continue making my double pump hazelnut latte and squeezed a dash of whipped cream on top of it. It’s Saturday after all. I can worry about my love handles later on.

“I don’t see a need to air out my business. There’s nothing much to say. People break up all the time,” he grumbles as I venture into the nagging territory.

Sensing that he’s not going to tell me much this call, I change the topic. “So, what is this big news you want to tell me?”

He lifts his eyes back to the screen and brushes his hair back with one hand, “I’m coming back to LA.”

“What?! When? For vacation? I’ven’t seen you in person in years.” I pause as I somber up, remembering the last time he was here. “Since Nana died when I was a freshman at ULA”.

He lets out a deep breath as tension softens from his face. “So…you are excited? I’m actually moving back for good. I got a new job at Brighton Capital as their Chief Director of Data Science”.

I squeal, earning me more deep throated chuckles.

“Of course, I’m excited! We’ll be together like the partners in crimes we were in high school. James and Jess back together again. Like Team Rocket from Pokemon in the good ol’ days.” I let out a big whoop. “We’ll—” My phone rings and the caller ID shows it’s my boyfriend, Ben. “Hey, sorry, Ben is calling, I got to go.”

James’s lips flatten, as if displeased. “Of course you have to go. Give Ben my regards.”

“Okay, talk later.” I hurriedly switch over to Ben, “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Hey babe, took you awhile to answer the call. Were you on the phone?” Ben says in the way of greeting. He’s been busy the last two weeks, so we have not had a chance to speak until today.

“Yeah sorry, I was on the phone with James. You know, we have our biweekly calls.” An apology slips out automatically even though sometimes I wonder why I’m apologizing in the first place.

“Huh. James again. I don’t understand your friendship really. You guys knew each other for a long time but he moved away when you were fourteen. You’re twenty-eight now. I’m sure you’re a different person now then you were in high school. Seems like you talk an awful lot for a relationship based mainly from your childhood experiences.” Ben always seems to have an issue with James for some unknown reason. They have only met each other one time when my grandmother passed away but there has been a lingering distaste ever since then.

“Honey, I told you this before, we have always kept in touch, so yes, while he’s not physically in the same place as me, he’s my best friend. It’s just the way it’s.” If I could get one dollar for every time we’ve had the same conversation regarding how odd my friendship is, I would probably be a millionaire by now.

“We don't really talk that often. Only twice a month.” Not counting the frequent texts we send each other throughout the week, not that I’ll tell Ben and invite more ire from him.

“Yeah whatever.” He mumbles as he changes the topic, “You want to hang out today? I’m busy until three. We can grab a bite to eat for dinner and come back to my place and watch that new Marvel movie.”

Ugh. I’ve a massage booked for this evening that I’ve been looking forward to since my life these days revolves around burying myself in a mountain pile of work. I guess I’ll reschedule. Seeing Ben is more important. He has a busy schedule as an investment trader and works at odd hours and usually during East Coast time.

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll be there at six. I can’t wait to see you. I’m so stressed at work these days—”

“Hey, swing by The Panda Inn and bring over some of that walnut shrimp and Kung Pao chicken? Got to go. See you later.” The line disconnects with a click.

I let out a frustrated breath. Ben is so oblivious sometimes. But he is a busy man, Jess. He has been with you since college. He puts up with your stress and anxiety. Who wants a girlfriend who is worried about so many things all the time? He could have his pick of women and he chose you. I give myself a quick pep talk and set up my laptop on the dining room table, where I’ll camp out for the rest of the day.

Ding. Text message alert from my phone.

James: Your favorite In-N-Out cheeseburger, well done fries, with a chocolate milkshake will show up at 12 p.m. Someone owes me a favor. I know you are probably going to skip lunch today and work yourself to death. Don’t do that. You got this Jess. You got this.

James, this is why you are my best friend.