Page 55 of Parker
“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.”
