Page 45 of Pride
– Not me. You.
– I don’t have any meetings.
– Good. Be ready at 8:30.
– That’s in five minutes!
She gaped. She wasn’t prepared for a meeting.
– Who am I meeting? What do I need?
– Just yourself. I have to go.
And with that last message,Parker’s icon became inactive. He’d logged out. Alice was still blinking at the screen when a phone call came from reception saying her eight-thirty was here. What the hell?
She jumped out of Parker’s plush leather seat, smoothed her hair, and went to the office door. When she opened it, a man and a woman strode down the carpeted foyer toward her, both wheeling clothing racks laden with fashion.
Blood drained from her face. She recognized the man. It was Parker’s tailor, and the woman was his personal shopper. She smiled tightly at them.
“Hello, George and Bridget,” she greeted. “I think there’s been a mixup. Mr. Lazarus isn’t in the office today.”
George, a tall thin man with zero facial hair, or hair on his head, leaned in to peck the air beside her cheek.
“Not to worry,” he said. “We’re here for you. I thought Parky boy told you.”
Parky boy?Alice shook her head, supposing Parkerwouldbe on nickname terms with the man that built his bespoke wardrobe.
Bridget pushed up her statement bangle before folding her arms. “We’re prepared.”
“For what?” Alice gaped.
“Mr. Lazarus said you might resist.” She gave Alice’s saggy frock a scathing once over. “Frankly, I’m surprised it took him this long to call us. You’re the face of his personal brand. We have a lot of work to do.”
George pursed his lips and raised his brows, facial armor engaged for fashion war.
“Well, I can’t afford anything,” Alice said flatly, a little miffed, if she was honest. Parker knew this was a false identity. It wasn’t as though she always dressed like this. “And I regret to inform you that I have no time. I’m sorry to put you out like this but you may as well return.”
The two of them shared a glance, took hold of their racks, and then pushed into the office. In the foyer and down the hallway, staff and disapproving executives had poked their heads out of their offices to snoop. If she made a scene, it might reflect poorly on Parker. But, then again, if she allowed them in and to monopolize her with this sort of unethical use of work time, it could reflect even more poorly on him. Especially considering the sharks were circling and watching how Parker ran the company. There were hundreds of staff here. Millions of dollars in revenue a year. In the end, Alice went with the same office excuse she always did: If Mr. Lazarus ordered it, then so be it. She allowed them in and shut the door.
Two hours later, Alice had been poked, prodded, and measured from bust to boot. She’d been stripped down to her underwear, fitted, splayed and sprayed with perfume. Parker had ordered her a complete wardrobe makeover, and if George or Bridget failed to have the item in stock, they made a list and promised to send the rest as soon as it was tailored or ordered in. They refused to take no for an answer, even when Alice threatened to send back items she didn’t approve of. By the time they’d left, she returned flustered to her seat, her stomach rumbling for food.
This showering her with gifts—at least, she thought that’s what Parker was doing—was becoming a little excessive, if not endearing. No one had ever spent money on her like this and it wasn’t like he’d picked out what clothing for her to wear. He’d left the style up to her. He just wanted to buy her things.
He hadn’t even accepted the alliance. So what was this? A preamble? A sign? Or was he messing with her?
Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Alice turned her attention to find a gazillion messages from executives backlogging her inbox. They’d been calling on Parker for weeks and were curious as to how she was spending her time without him in the office. Cheeks flaming, she typed back polite ‘none of your business’ type responses and left it at that, but during her trip to the lunch break room, she couldn’t help noticing them congregating in an office and shutting the door as she walked past. Her intuition went on high alert.
