Page 22 of Parker

Chapter seventeen

Joel that’s enough.

“Well, I’m never going to stop trying to make you feel safer.”

We walk to the front door, and everything looks like it did this morning. I scan my surroundings, looking for a box with a red bow.

Once in the house, Joel leads me to the stairs, and we ascend them together, my hand firmly locked with his.

But he doesn’t take me to our bedroom as I expect.

He heads for the spare room at the end of the hall.

It’s not a room I’ve been in often, as it is prepared for guests, and we haven’t had any.

His words when we arrived swirl in my mind. Whatever he is about to show me is about me. About me feeling at home with him. I’m not sure if what’s behind the door could make me love him any more than I already do. He never makes me doubt his ability to see me, in both my strength and my weakness.

Blocking the door with his body, he faces me, and his eyes sparkle with excitement. He’s eager to give me whatever my surprise is.

“One condition,” he says. “You’re not allowed to lock yourself in here so that I never see you again.”

“Okay,” I say, completely confused.

He hands me a key, an old key made of metal that is heavy in my hand, with a long shaft. Looking at the modern white door, I see that an old-fashioned lock has been installed. The key fits the lock perfectly, and it clicks noisily. Joel gives me an encouraging smile, and I push it open.

I stand at the threshold, my eyes scanning the room in disbelief. Every wall is lined with bookcases. In the center, a huge corner sofa sits around a glass coffee table. Brightly colored volumes fill one bookcase, though most remain empty.

“Do you like it?” Joel asks, his voice timid.

“Like it,” I whisper. “I love it. When? How did you organize all this?” I walk over to the filled bookcase and scan the titles, tears filling my eyes. All my beloved classic novels are here. Joel comes to my side and puts his hand on the base of my spine.

“These,”—he waves his hand at the classic books—“are only to get you started. I have a contact who sources books. He’s going to get in touch with you so you can create your own library, to your taste.”

Throwing myself into his arms, I push him toward the sofa, and we fall onto it together.

On top of him, I take his mouth with mine, our tongues dancing together as the tears stream from my eyes.

The need to show him what he means to me is urgent.

My hands roam over his body, and he grabs my wrists, stopping me in my tracks.

“Nicky,” he says, pulling back, fingers gentle on my wrists. “You don’t owe me anything for loving you. That’s not how it works. I wanted to treat my wife.”

“But,” I stammer. “I want to show you how thankful I am. For everything.”

“The smile on your face is enough for me.”

***

Ebony and I sit eating our lunch in the staff room. She came to find me thirty minutes ago, wanting to celebrate the end of my first week at Parker Fashion. I can’t wait for the weekend to begin. Some relaxation after my first full working week in a decade is much needed.

Wearing a simple A-line black dress with her dark hair pulled back, she looks exquisite. The woman could wear a trash bag and look amazing. Every inch of her is curated, like she’s her own press release.

“I’m really impressed with your work this week,” she tells me. Her voice level. “You have squashed my concerns. There has been nothing but positive feedback from the team.”

I glance up from my salad. “What were you concerned about?”

“Well.” She hesitates. The air crackling with unspoken negativity. “You’ve fallen right into the middle of this family’s world. I worried it may be strategic.” Her nose screws up a little, and she has the decency to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions.”

Before responding, I take another bite of chicken off my fork. Ebony eyes me warily, as if expecting an explosion. She’s heard about my past. I can’t blame her for being unsure.

“That’s completely understandable. The past few months have been unbelievable. Meeting Joel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He’s just amazing.”

She freezes for a moment as if deep in thought, then flushes before her words come slowly. “Yes, he is.”

Joel hasn’t told me much about Ebony, other than she’s always been part of his life. They’re friends and work colleagues.