Page 23 of Parker
Ebony’s job is to manage everything Parker Family–facing. Crisis control, brand spin, tabloid containment. If someone sneezes wrong in a board meeting, she’s there with a tissue and a statement.
“How did you meet Joel?” She startles, blinking as if caught doing something she shouldn’t.
“We grew up together. I’ve known Joel longer than almost anyone.” She smiles faintly. “There are baby bath photos somewhere. His mum used to tease us. She was convinced we’d end up together.”
Taken aback by her volunteered information, I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Her thin lips widen as if amused by my discomfort.
“You are very fortunate to have him. When he didn’t turn up to the wedding, Eliza was devastated,” she continues.
My skin prickles. “You know Eliza?”
“Yes, she and I go way back. I was friends with her older sister. Until she sadly passed away last year.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” I mumble, guilt stabbing at my chest.
That poor girl, dealing with her sister dying, then being left at the altar. No wonder she looked haunted at Evander Parker’s funeral. She must feel as though her world has fallen apart over the last year. For the first time, I almost feel remorseful for meeting Joel, stealing him away from her.
Ebony squeezes my arm. “Don’t worry about it. None of this is your fault. You merely fell in love and followed your heart.”
My husband appears. In fitted jeans and a blue checked shirt, he looks dreamy, his curls falling over his forehead because his hair is messed up. Walking in, he takes my hands and pulls me up into his arms. He drops a kiss on my lips, the gesture completely natural.
“Mrs. Parker, how has your day been?” he says smoothly.
My gaze slides to Ebony, who is glaring at us.
Surprised by her animosity, I flick my gaze back to Joel, who seems completely oblivious.
Something shifted in her posture when he entered.
Not just an annoyance, but an underlying discomfort.
It’s like she’s trying to close a half-creaked door, and it’s refusing to lock.
“Get a room,” Ebony snarls. Joel laughs, but she looks deadly serious.
“That isn’t a bad idea. Perhaps we could turn one storeroom into a bedroom for me to ravish my wife in.”
“Joel,” I squeak, embarrassed. He kisses me again, deeper.
“Ebony’s off the market. She’s well aware of the extra-curricular activities married couples partake in.” He gives her a cheeky wink, but she doesn’t laugh.
“Right, something like that,” she mutters, picking up her phone.
Confused, I focus on Ebony. She’s mentioned no one. We’ve spent time in each other’s company this week. She doesn’t wear a ring. I’d assumed she was single. Her life is full of meals out with friends, work, and weekends away. Not once did she mention a boyfriend, never mind a husband.
“I’m pulling rank and taking my wife home,” Joel announces, utterly blind to her discomfort.
I frown, widening my eyes at him. “I still have work to do.” He leans down, placing warm lips at my ear.
“I’m the boss. Don’t worry, baby, going home to fuck your husband isn’t cause for dismissal.” I feel my cheeks turn a deep shade of tomato, but instinctively my pussy weeps at his words.
“For fuck’s sake,” Ebony spits, storming toward the door. “Bloody men. See you Monday, Nicky. Make sure you ride him hard this weekend. No early finishes next week.”
***
All weekend, my husband listens to me prattle on about my first week in fashion. Having worked in the industry himself for years, he knows everything I’ve told him already, but his eyes never lose focus as I speak. He smiles through every story, engrossed in everything I have to say.
“It’s safe to say you’re enjoying your work?” His eyebrows rise in jest.
“I love it.” I squeal for what must be the thousandth time over the weekend. “Watching the designers work is mesmerizing. How they design and then make the actual garments. Such talent.”
“Listen to them, watch what they do. But develop your own tastes too. Perhaps you should start sketching some designs? It would be something you could do in the evening when we aren’t having sex.” My husband’s eyes dance, and he rises from his chair. “Wait here.”
He appears back moments later with a large drawing pad and a box of colored pencils. “Here you go.” He passes me the stationery. “Let your mind run free, draw whatever you want. When you come up with something good enough, I’ll have it made for you.”
***
A full year after my husband gave me that notepad, I stand in front of the mirror at the fashion house wearing my design. Hours of blood, sweat, and tears have gone into this evening gown.
Most of the handiwork is my own, but a few of the design team helped with the more complicated stitching.
The sheer red fabric sweeps over my body and falls to the floor.
As I walk, the subtle glitter woven through the material sparkles under the lights.
The neckline plunges in a deep V-shape to my navel.
It’s stunning. It’s everything I ever dreamed it would be.
After six months of working as a floor sweep, they promoted me to an assistant.
Imelda approached me one day and reassigned me to work with Betty, a lovely older woman, who has taken me under her wing.
My relationship with Joel’s mother is still frosty, but she doesn’t cause me any issues at home or work. We exist around one another in silence.
Ebony, however, turned out not to be as sweet and friendly as I first thought. Once my skill in design had come to the forefront, she did everything in her power to keep me hidden, including presenting my designs as someone else’s at the weekly designers’ meeting. Her actions hurt and confused me.
According to Joel, Ebony’s home life isn’t the easiest. She has an overbearing husband who rules with an iron fist. Parker Fashion is her escape, and somewhere she feels in complete control.
My husband speaks as if they used to spend a lot of time together, but since I moved into the house, she has only visited once.
The way she looks at him makes me uncomfortable.
Her eyes drink him in, like a mantis locking in on its prey.
Not that I would tell Joel—he loves his old friend and feels protective of her.
After deciding to put my concerns to one side, I’m going to concentrate on improving my design skills and work on being promoted in the business to a member of the design team. Having a focus and direction in life is doing wonders for my self-confidence. I feel like someone who deserves a future.