Found in Us (Lost 2)

Nope. No more smoking for me.

Parker walks in about an hour later, and by the wide grin he's sporting, I can tell his mission was a success.

"So how many people did you intimidate, just so we can get on this thing?" I ask as he takes my hand and guides me out of the cafeteria. Instead of an answer, Parker pulls me into a kiss.

"No that many," he says against my lips. "Come on."

He pulls me up the metal ramp where we can get inside a capsule. I've been here already on my second day in London, and I liked it so much I promised myself I'd come again. I was here in the morning that day. Now, at night, the glass and steel capsules are slightly illuminated, which gives them an eerie look. A young man awaits us at the landing, and he frowns as he points to the open doors of a capsule, and we step inside.

"Fancy," I say when the doors close and the capsule starts moving slowly. "A private capsule."

"Which generally comes with an obligatory butler. Believe it or not, it was more difficult to get rid of the butler than getting them to start the wheel at this hour."

I sit on the bench in the center of the capsule, crossing my legs. Parker stands near a weird-looking trunk that I didn't notice when we entered, though I'm pretty sure it was there.

"Why is a butler mandatory?"

"They say it's for security," Parker says. "I think it's more for preventing sex."

"Sounds legit." He bends down and fumbles with the trunk, then turns to me with a bottle of Pommery Brut Royal Champagne and two glasses.

"And for serving this."

"Oh, I think you're qualified enough for the job."

He pours us both champagne, then puts the bottle back in the ice bucket, sits next to me, and we clink glasses. Though we're still not very high up, I see the city stretching behind him, the bright lights of the buildings and street lamps contrasting beautifully with the growing darkness.

"To us, Jess," he says.

I notice something in his eyes I haven't seen before. "You look troubled."

He smiles and we both take a sip from our glasses. "I didn't want to bring it up now, but there's interest from some buyers for Blakesley Enterprises."

"That's good, right? I mean, you said that was the plan. Run the company until you can sell it."

Parker runs his hand through his hair, a few blond strands falling over his eyes seductively. "I don't know . . . it was my father's company, after all. Somehow, selling it doesn't feel right. It's also not yet in a stable financial state to get a good price for it. What do you think I should do?" He tugs at his lower lip with his teeth, looking at me expectantly.

"I . . . umm . . ." I st

utter, "I don't know a darn thing about financial stuff, so I'm probably the least-qualified person you could ask."

"No," Parker says with urgency, "you know me. Your opinion is important to me."

"Well," I say, carefully considering my words, "I think you will be much happier if you sell it and get back to dedicating your time to what you like to do. I want to see you happy, so I vote for selling the company."

Parker nods, as if my words somehow carry great importance.

"Thank you," he says, before leaning in to kiss me. I put down my glass, wrap my arms around his neck, and climb in his lap. I taste the champagne on his lips, turning his words back and forth in my mind, still a bit surprised that my opinion matters so much to him. But after all, I care about his opinion as well. I asked him for advice more than once in the past few weeks. And Parker was so willing to help me. He even helped me prepare for a presentation, listening to me rehearsing in front of him and then challenging me with trick questions and giving me feedback.

His rigid, businesslike demeanor made it very hard for me to keep a straight face while presenting. I usually ended up tickling his seriousness away after he was done with the feedback, and then he wrestled me to bed. Mixing work and pleasure turned out to be so much fun.

"Stop," I say, pushing his hand away from my ass, and leaping away. "I wanted to come here for the view. I won't miss it." I turn my back to him, looking outside. The London Eye is my favorite Ferris wheel ever. The capsules are built almost entirely of glass, which makes taking in the surrounding view so much easier. And what a view it is. On the left side the old city—Westminster—stretches out, with all the classic tourist attractions: Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, and so on. On the right side is the new part—the City—where glass and steel giants dominate the skyline. Though vastly different, the two parts form a picture that's harmonious in its own way. Just like me, I hope. The old Jess was reckless, and always up for fun with a touch of danger. The new Jess is more responsible and restrained, though the reckless part lingers inside, yearning to come to life now and again. I think I've found a way to reconcile both sides of me. Or Parker has, really. I feel one of his arms enveloping my waist, the other busy finding its way under my dress.

"Parker," I gasp. "Not here."

"Why not?" I can feel his devilish smile against my neck. "No one can see what's going on inside."

"No, but I'll know they're out there. That they could see."