Page 31 of Parker

Chapter twenty-four

Parker Fashion House, Glasgow

Nicky

As I raise my hand to knock on his door, her voice shrieks through the wood.

“But,” she howls. “I’ve given this business my complete focus for my whole adult life. And you and your mother,”—something crashes to the floor—“have thrown me to the side to make way for that cheap, thieving bit of skirt.”

“Enough,” Joel growls.

“You’ve barely valued my opinion since you married her.”

I push the door open a fraction to see what is going on. Ebony stands over my husband as he sits in his chair, her nose almost touching his. There’s a glass smashed on the floor at his feet. “Please, Ebony. You must understand. I need to take this to the board. My interests are conflicted.”

“Understand?” she shrieks, stabbing her finger into his chest.

Joel knocks her hand aside. His eyes widen as his temper rises. I see him trying to control it. It takes a lot to get my husband enraged, but Ebony is pressing all the right buttons.

“Calm down. Your job is safe. You’re a huge part of the team here. I know you’re feeling insecure with everything going on at home, but—”

She cuts him off with another scream, throwing a manila envelope into his lap.

“All the evidence is in there,” she hisses, then sits on the sofa as Joel pulls out the documents. His eyes widen as he reads, and his mouth contracts to a thin line. “If this is what she’s capable of in fashion,” Ebony adds, “imagine what she’s telling your enemies.”

Joel moves to sit next to her on the sofa.

Louise, the receptionist, appears at my shoulder.

“Hi.” She gives me a tight smile. I roll my eyes, trying to lighten the mood. She stares back blandly.

“How long has she been in there?” I ask. “What are they arguing about?”

Louise will know exactly what’s been said. She never leaves her desk and is the fountain of office gossip.

“I don’t think you want that information to come from me. You’re best to ask your husband.” Her clipped tone differs from her typical breezy sound. “Anyway, I’m the lowly receptionist. Telling you is more than my job’s worth.”

A few minutes of silence pass. I bite the bullet and knock on the door. Joel will probably appreciate the reprieve from being shouted at.

Things are strained between us at the moment. Another miscarriage two months ago has compounded our fears that a child won’t happen for us. Three in one year is hard to stomach.

This time, he disappeared for hours. I never asked where he went. I cried alone at home, clutching the twelve-week scan in my hands. It was the furthest we’d ever gotten. My heart aches with the memory.

Joel’s family considers having a male heir of the utmost importance, someone to carry on the Parker name and manage the business.

My mother-in-law is constantly pestering us to start a family.

We’ve never told her about the other miscarriages.

Her disappointment would turn to judgment.

And ultimately, she would question my suitability as his wife.

“Come in,” Joel bellows, breaking into my thoughts.

My heart slams against my ribs. Any argument stresses me, even when they’re not mine. If I feel threatened, my fight-or-flight reflexes kick in hard. I pause. Maybe I should stay here, safe on the outside. Steeling myself, I step through the door.

Ebony sits on the sofa with her head in her hands, my husband next to her.

His hand running up and down her back. There’s an intimacy about the act that makes me uneasy.

His lips are close to her ear as he speaks.

I can’t hear what’s being said. Her responses are being mumbled toward the floor.

The scene stops me in my tracks, and a sense of dread washes over me.

Taking a breath, I walk purposefully toward the sofa, my heels clicking noisily off the tiled floor. Joel looks up, his face stony. Not the warm welcome I’m used to. His eyes darken, filled with anger. He looks furious. Ebony keeps her gaze firmly fixed between her feet.

“Nicky,” he snaps. “This isn’t the best time. I’ll come to get you once I’ve finished here.”

My heart sinks—I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. The harder side of my husband is becoming more visible as he moves deeper into the circles he works in. But rarely is his harsher persona directed at me. The venom shocks me. He’s never spoken to me like that before.

“Okay,” I say, looking between my husband and the woman he’s consoling.

“No. It’s alright, Joel,” she mumbles. “You deal with your errant wife.”

I take a moment to realize what she said. It cuts deep. Is this how Joel talks about me now?

“Pardon. What do you mean, errant wife?”

Her head snaps up, and wicked eyes bore into mine.

“Nicky, I’m not a fucking idiot, and neither are you,” she hisses. “Since you arrived here, you’ve been lying. I’ve received complaint after complaint from staff. I can’t keep covering for you just because you married the boss.”

“What are you talking about?” I stammer, the confidence I’ve built over the past few years disintegrating.

“I’ll let your husband tell you.”

“That’s enough,” Joel barks. He runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Sit down, both of you. This needs to be discussed with some sort of professionalism. You know I have more important things to be dealing with than you two being at each other’s throats.”

His words sting. “Joel,” I whine. “I only came in here to discuss the Adam Project budget.”

His disappointed eyes run over my face. He looks as if he could be sick at any moment. “Darling,” I say, dashing to his side. “What’s wrong? You look ill.”

He sighs. “Just take a seat, Nicky. Ebony has some concerns. We all need to discuss them. Wait here, both of you. I’ll call my mother. She needs to be here, then we need to involve the board.”

“Thank you,” Ebony purrs, her tears having vanished. “I appreciate you taking my concerns seriously.”

He walks away without a response, leaving and closing the door behind him.

As soon as the lock clicks shut, she turns to me with a sly smile on her lips.

“Remember the night you won? The night your career blossomed?” I nod, unsure where she’s going with this.

“I hate to tell you, but you actually started your demise that day.” Not knowing what to say, I stay mute.

“Before you walked into our lives, things were good. Everything was coming together, then you ruined it,” she hisses through her teeth. “You turned into the mother fucking queen of fashion. I’ve spent fifteen years here. And have yet to be seen…”

“Ebony,” I stammer. “I never meant—”

She cuts me off by throwing her hand across my cheek. It stings as her palm connects with the skin. My natural defenses spring into action, and I grab her by the shoulders, shaking her hard as she sits on the sofa.

“Don’t,” she cries. “Don’t hurt me.” Her hands fly over her face protectively, and she cowers away from me into the cushions.

The door swings open, and Joel bursts in to find me holding onto Ebony, my face millimeters from hers.

He grabs me from behind, pulling me off, his fingers digging into my skin.

“What the hell are you doing, Nicky?” He throws me to the side, rushing to her. “Are you hurt?”

“Thank goodness, you got here in time,” she sobs. “I thought she was going to kill me.” She clings to my husband like a life preserver.

“Joel,” I say, panicked. Tears spring to my eyes as I watch him comfort her. Familiar insecurities surface. “She goaded me. I lost my temper. She provoked me.” He turns on me, his eyes dark with fury.

“Nicky,” he snarls. “Get out and go home. I’ll talk to you later. We’ll get to the truth, but right now, my friend needs me. You terrified her. I’ve told you she’s vulnerable. What the hell were you thinking?”

“What?” I say, stunned. “She’s setting me up. How can you not see that? I’m your wife. You should be on my side.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen. Now go. I’ll talk to you at home. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

My heart is breaking; he believes her. He’s taking her side over mine, and I don’t even know what I’m accused of. Ebony snuggles into his chest. Her body shakes as she fake-sobs. Joel strokes her hair and talks quietly to her, reassuring her.

I watch on in horror. Imelda appears at my side, taking my arm. She leads me from the office, and I follow her dumbly.

***

It’s mid-afternoon on a Wednesday. I’m sitting at home, alone, confused, and scared.

In our six years of marriage, I’ve never felt so furious with Joel. He’s always been my number one supporter. But today, he believed her over me. He treated me like the guilty party, when I don’t know what the charges are.

For the first time in years, I want the oblivion that alcohol offers, and I was sorely tempted to stop at the off-license on the way home. I parked, then stared at the keys in my hand before restarting the car.

If I drink, Ebony wins. She wants to destroy me, and I can’t let that happen.

Later, my relapse would devastate Joel upon his return home. But judging by the look on his face today, he has already surpassed disappointment in his wife. What hurts most is that he never asked my side of the story. I wasn’t allowed to explain my actions.

As Imelda led me away, Ebony turned her head on my husband’s chest and flashed me an evil smile.

The award for drama queen of the year goes to her.

Darkness falls before I hear his key in the lock. I’ve been sitting on the sofa, not watching TV, all afternoon. I run through everything I want to say and the questions to ask him in my mind. He appears in the living area, his hair messed up from anxious fingers. He looks exhausted.

“What happened today?” I ask quietly. “I don’t understand.”

“Nicky, you need to be honest with me. We’ve been married for six years, and after what I’ve learned today, I’m not sure I know my wife. In a family like ours, we need to know we can trust you.”

My tears fall again. No words could be more hurtful from his lips.

“You’re going to need to tell me what I’ve done,” I beg. Standing abruptly, I run toward him, but he holds me at arm’s length. His emerald eyes search my face. He looks stricken, as if he’s seen a ghost. “I don’t know what she said. How can I explain something I don’t understand?”

“Let me take a shower,” he says with a sigh. “Then we can talk about everything. But Nicky, you’re suspended from your position at Parker Fashion with immediate effect. The board has removed you from the company. You can’t be trusted.”

Before a syllable passes my lips, he walks away from me without looking back.

You can’t be trusted echoes louder than his retreating footsteps.