Page 42 of Parker
Chapter thirty-three
The Madison Hotel, The Scottish Highlands
Joel
Boyd drives the limo to the front doors of the Madison Hotel.
Ebony sits beside me in the back seat, her hands clasped in her lap.
We argued again before leaving the fashion house tonight.
It’s becoming a habit neither of us can break.
Our differences are long past agreement.
There is no common ground to find. We’re living this lie.
Ebony acts like we are a couple, even around those who know better. It makes me uncomfortable. It’s as if she believes that if she tries hard enough, long enough, I’ll relent. But I won’t. I’ll never replace Nicky. I’ve made that clear, time and time again.
She insists the extra touches, her hand on my arm, the kisses on my cheek, are for show. But I know better. I can feel it means more to her. And maybe that’s why I feel guilty.
Ebony is a broken woman. She lived under her ex-husband’s wrath for years. Her work and my friendship were her only escape. This relationship, our facade, matters more to her than it ever could to me.
I know she was jealous when I met Nicky. My life changed overnight, and so did hers. Our regular meet-ups vanished. The situation reduced our link to work alone. Our friendship evaporated along with my time.
When her lies were exposed, the ones that imploded my life from the inside out, I wanted to fire her on the spot.
My initial reaction was to have Boyd dispose of her and throw her in the River Clyde.
But my mother talked me round, like she often does.
She’d lived with an abusive man; it can make a person do desperate things.
Ebony, for all her jealousy, had been a long-time supporter of the Parker family.
It was our duty to protect her, no matter how I felt personally.
Plus, as someone deep on the inside, with multiple connections within and outside of our businesses, she knows where the bodies tend to be buried and has more than enough information to cause more than a minor headache.
So, I’d folded and let her stay. Every day I question whether that was the right decision. Today is no different.
We haven’t spoken since the boardroom this morning.
My mother kicked off this morning’s meeting by congratulating us both on the PR charade we’ve created over the past weeks.
Business dinners, media appearances, and public events have filled my calendar in and around the city, a declaration that Joel Parker is back, sane, and newly attached to a woman the press adores.
Ebony’s presence by my side has become part of the Parker brand. She’s reliable. Lovable. Professional. The perfect headline to go with the ideal photo on a front page. Individual and successful enough to be interesting. Just soft enough around the edges to make our relationship appear real.
It was easier to play along than fight my mother, Boyd, and Ebony. I had nothing left to lose. Nicky made it clear we have no chance of reconciliation. The business didn’t need to self-destruct just because I have already.
And ultimately, they were right. The public loves a redemption arc. A man rebuilt from heartbreak with a strong woman by his side. We are what PR companies dream of.
I’m still replaying this morning’s meeting in my head when Boyd’s voice breaks the awkward silence in the car.
“You have the penthouse,” Boyd informs me.
“I’ve already collected your keys and had the luggage delivered to the room.
The maids will unpack your clothing and belongings now.
Dinner is at eight in the private dining room on the nineteenth floor.
All your guests reconfirmed attendance again this morning. ”
“Thank you, Boyd.” I don’t know what I would do without this man.
“You’re welcome, sir,” he says, stopping the car and stepping out onto the pavement. He opens my door, then walks around to Ebony’s side, holding out his hand to help her from the car.
As much as I hate to admit it, she looks stunning with her dark hair pinned up high. Her makeup is subtle but shimmers against her deep blue eyes. She’s wearing a soft blue long-sleeved wool dress, both elegant and sexy.
I offer my arm. She takes it like it means something, and we walk into the hotel together.
The Madison Hotel is tucked away in the Scottish Highlands, far enough from the city to host private conversations I need. Locked behind dark iron gates, it’s the epitome of muted opulence. A modernized mansion from years gone by.
Crystal chandeliers hang in the high-arching reception area. A baby grand piano to one side is played effortlessly by a gentleman in a tux. Ebony’s heels strike off the polished white floor with every step as we head for the elevator, Boyd in front, leading the way with our room key in hand.
As we reach the doors, Ebony finally speaks, so softly that only I can hear. “I'm looking forward to tonight.”
I press the call button, resisting the urge to sigh, then glance at her. "It's a work trip."
She nods. Her lips thinning to a small smile, but something flickers in her eyes. Knowledge, maybe. Confidence, for sure.
“I’m not wanting this to be any more awkward than necessary,” I tell her.
She mumbles something like an agreement. The elevator arrives with a familiar chime, and we step inside. An attendant stands there in a perfectly pressed dark uniform.
“Good evening, Mr. Parker,” he addresses me, then nods to Ebony. “The penthouse?”
Boyd passes me the key to my room.
“Yes, please,” I say, as Boyd turns to leave. “It’s a stunning room,” the man tells us as the doors close. The elevator immediately rises upward. “Perfect for a romantic getaway.”
My eyes flick to Ebony, who is standing silent. Her cheeks pink as her lips press together.
“It’s not that kind of night,” I mutter.
The elevator doors slide open directly into the penthouse suite.
A thick navy-blue carpet spreads across the sitting room.
Soft gold lighting highlights the walls.
Every fixture and fitting screams wealth.
The dark curtains are drawn closed. This is the kind of privacy money buys. Regal, hidden, and silent.
The attendant gestures for us to step out. Ebony follows my lead.
“Enjoy your evening, Mr. Parker. Miss,” he says with a courteous nod before the doors close.
It’s impressive. I would be disappointed if it weren’t. High ceilings, a marble fireplace, a dining table set for two. Everything is as expected.
Except there is only one other door.
I walk in the direction of the room, stopping at the doorway and looking inside. My stomach drops. There’s only one bedroom.
A king-sized bed, turned down with navy silk sheets. Roses scattered across the bedspread, chocolates on the pillow, robes folded at the end. My jaw tightens.
“Ebony,” I say without turning. I feel her at my shoulder. “Where’s the second bedroom?”
She moves past me, walking over to the bed and placing her handbag down.
“There isn’t one.” She looks me straight in the eye, unfazed. “It made sense—for the narrative. A romantic suite sells the story more if anyone looks into it.”
“For the narrative?” I repeat her words. I don’t know what else to say.
“What kind of power couple sleeps in separate beds?” She raises a single eyebrow, goading me to argue.
“One that doesn’t fucking exist,” I snarl. “We aren’t playing house.”
She doesn’t flinch. “The hotel’s fully booked. There’s a wedding party here. Even if we wanted to change it, there’s nothing else available.”
“And you knew that when?”
“Yesterday, Boyd told me. He asked if I wanted to keep the reservation. I said yes.”
Of course she did.
I drag a hand over my face and exhale. “This isn’t what I signed up for. You and I are fake.”
“It’s not what I wanted either,” she agrees.
That stops me. For a second, I almost believe her.
But she’s already moving across the room, slipping off her heels like we didn’t just throw another gallon of fuel on this dumpster fire. I stare at the bed, then at her.
She doesn’t answer. She knows she’s won.
***
Later that evening, Ebony stands looking in the full-length mirror and applies ruby red lipstick with precision. Her red figure-hugging dress shows off every curve, and her sky-high heels elongate her legs. She looks incredible. I walk up behind her, and she smiles softly in the mirror.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” I say. “My words were blunt, but I need to be sure you don’t have the wrong impression about what this is.” She flushes and looks away. “I am still very much in love with Nicky.” My words land hard as pain flickers over her features. “There will be no one else.”
“I haven’t asked you for anything,” she murmurs.
“You don’t have to. I can feel it.” I step away before she can respond.
There was a time the tension of my situation with Ebony and tonight’s dinner would have sent me straight to the bottle. One drink then another to steady my nerves. I’d learned to live through the fog. Sometimes, I wonder if sobriety is a blessing or a curse.
***
The private dining room is all velvet and polished silver.
The air is thick with whiskey, politics, and the smell of expensive aftershave.
The city’s influential leaders are halfway through a bottle of Macallan, merrily stroking their own egos.
These are the men who sign off on contracts and make headlines disappear.
As I scan the room, my gaze lands on a familiar blonde bob sitting at the table. A cold weight settles in my gut. Sophie is sitting next to the new chief of police. She’s laughing at every word out of his mouth, her hand a fraction too high on his thigh.
“Nice of you to join us, Parker,” Neilson Graham announces. He currently runs the planning office at Glasgow City Council. “Thought we were going to have to spend your money without you.”
“Looks like you’ve already made a decent dent,” I reply.
Sophie’s eyes survey me, then move to Ebony and back to me. She scowls. Cheeky bitch; it’s her mate who dismissed me. “Ladies and gentlemen, please let me introduce you to my friend for this evening, Ebony.”
There’s a murmur of welcome around the table. Moving over to the two remaining free seats, I pull out Ebony’s and then slide into mine, which is directly opposite Sophie’s.
“Nice to see you again, Joel,” she says. Her date’s eyes pop from their sockets.
“You know each other?” he asks.
Before I can reply, Sophie says, “Yes, he used to be married to my best friend.”
The table falls silent. Sophie gives me a sly smile, then her gaze moves to Ebony, who looks unsettled for once.
“So, in the end, you two got together?” Sophie muses. I narrow my eyes at her. “Your persistence paid off, Ebony.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Ebony shoots back. Two sets of heavily made-up eyes scowl, locked on each other. Sophie chuckles, clearly enjoying the drama.
“You got what you wanted,” she says, nodding toward me. Her tone is anything but innocent. “Him.”
Ebony goes to respond, her mouth bobbing open, then immediately closing. Lost for words for once. Part of me is impressed with Sophie's achievement, the other wants to run away.
“Ouch! Don’t pinch me,” Sophie hisses at her date, regaining the attention of the room. “I’m only winding them up. Joel and I go way back. He knows I’m only kidding.”
My mood plummets as I realize everything that happens tonight will be reported straight back to my ex-wife. Sophie’s always known how to twist the knife, and tonight she’s aiming for the heart.
Nicky will know it all by morning. Every look. Every word.