Page 22 of Ghost
“Professional? How are we sup?—”
My phone rings, cutting me off, and I curse under my breath. I pull it out of my back pocket, and a quick glance at the screen tells me it’s not a call I can ignore.
“I gotta take this,” I tell her before answering. “Hey, Crow, what’s up?”
Moving to the hallway so I can have a little privacy, I have a half-hearted conversation with my president about how things are going here, all the while, Ember’s eyes are on me.
“Yeah, yeah, things are okay,” I tell him. “I’ll be there within the hour.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “Poker can handle this alone.”
“I’m sure. Honestly, I could use some time in the Nightmare Room.”
He chuckles. “I’m sure you could. See ya when you get here.”
“Right. Later, brother.”
As I disconnect the call, my feet eat up the space between me and the woman from my past.
“Everything okay?” she asks, seemingly genuinely concerned.
“Yep.”
She eyes me warily. “Are yo?—”
“Parker, sweetheart, your breakfast is getting cold,” Mom says as she makes her way into the living room. Her face lightsup when she sees Ember. “Oh, hi, honey,” she greets. “Parker didn’t tell me you were coming. But I’m so glad you did because we’ve got a lot of last-minute details to work out.”
Confusion wrinkles my brow, but Ember only smiles. “Hi, Mrs. West.”
Mom waves her hand dismissively. “Pft. How many times do I have to tell you to call me ‘Mom’?”
Well, fuck.
Ember glances at me, pity in her blue eyes. I hate that look. Anger, rage, even hatred I can deal with, but pity? Nope.
“Yes, ma’am. Why don’t you come sit down while I finish talking to Parker, and then we can work on those details later?”
“Sit down?” Mom shakes her head. “Oh, no. There’s no time to waste. The wedding is in…” She settles her hands on her hips. “Well, I don’t quite recall when it is, but it’s soon, right?”
“We’ve got time, Mrs. West.”
Mom glances at me, and I force myself to nod, to reassure her that there’s plenty of time.
“If you say so,” Mom mutters as she moves to the couch and sits.
Ember levels her gaze on mine and nods to the kitchen. I follow her there, my stomach churning at how quickly the morning shifted.
“It’s going to be okay,” she tells me.
“She’s in there convinced that we’re still together, on the verge of getting married, and you expect me to believe that shit is okay?”
“This is my job,” she insists. “If you want me to work here, I’m gonna need you to trust me.”
Trust? She talks of trust after all we’ve been through? I forgot how to trust fifteen years ago.
“Yeah, okay,” I acquiesce. “I’ve gotta go take care of some things. Will you be okay with her?”
Ember smirks. “I repeat, this is my job. We’ll be fine.”
