Page 63 of Parker
Ebony is the first to break the silence.
“You’ve said nothing publicly,” she says, calm but cutting. “Not about the merger. Not about the divorce. That works for a day. Maybe two. But people are talking, Joel.”
Imelda nods. “Investors are nervous. The merger brought strength, but it also brought blood. And the press are implying you’re... unstable.”
“It was unexpected,” Boyd adds, attempting to soften my mother’s words. “Enemies don’t merge easily. People are asking questions.”
Ebony slides a glossy folder across the table toward me. “We’ve had two gala invites and three press appearances this week. We’ve declined everything for months. I think it’s time you accept one. A public appearance would be helpful.” I don’t look at the folder.
“Help who?” I ask, my voice low.
“You,” Ebony says, her eyes narrowing. “Right now, you’re the heartbroken CEO living in the shadows. People need to see you’re all right after…”
She rolls her eyes as if bored with having the same conversation. My jaw ticks, pissed she’s going to bring up my divorce… again. It’s constant, no matter what the predicament is. According to Ebony, every issue we face in the business is down to my ex-wife.
“After what?”
“You fucking know what?” Ebony slams her pen on the table. “Wallow all you like at home, but you need to be seen. Not justas a CEO, but a man in control. Our clients need to know you’ve moved on.”
I glance toward Drayton, who lets out a quiet huff. Ebony pretends not to notice, but I do. There’s a flicker of something between them. Understanding, maybe. Alliance. That makes me uncomfortable. Both have a ruthless streak that is beneficial when they’re on your side. Deadly if not.
“No,” I say simply, and rise from my chair. “The company will speak through its performance. Not through carefully staged photographs.”
“I’ll go with you to the gala,” my mother suggests. She reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently. “Moral support.”
“No,” I repeat. “I will not compromise on this. Being seen in public just gives them more ammunition. If I stay home, they can make up whatever fucking stories they want. I don’t care what anyone says or how many notes of concern they’ve had. I won’t be traipsing around Glasgow to save face.”
The deal is done. The Worth empire is ours. They can speculate all they want.
It was a Wednesday afternoon in summer when my phone buzzed.
“Sir,” Louise said, “Mr. Worth is requesting to speak to you. Should I let him in?”
My skin prickled with annoyance at being interrupted, especially by a man I hate. Though, I was interested enough to want to know why he was here. “Yes, let him in.”
Moving to my window, I watched the low black limo enter through the gates to Parker Fashion and stop outside the front door. The driver stepped out and opened the rear door for his boss. He was looking older, I noticed, with graying hair and slowness to his movements. As the two men made their way up the steps, I retreated from the window, knowing they would be at my door soon enough.
Moments later, Louise knocked softly on the wood and pushed the door open. “Mr. Worth to see you, Mr. Parker,” she announced.
“Thank you, Louise. Please, can you get us some tea? I assume you’d like a refreshment, Reginald?” He narrowed his eyes, presumably at my use of his Christian name. But in these recent months, my leadership had become stronger, and I was feeling more secure in my position.
Louise scurried away.
“Your goon can stay outside too,” I said, glancing at the brute now blocking my door. “I think we’re both gentlemen enough to discuss this amicably.” Worth nodded, and the mountain of a man left. “Please, take a seat,” I offered, pointing to the two leather sofas facing each other, one in the corner. Louise appeared and placed a tray holding a teapot, cups, and biscuits on the coffee table between them. She prepared two cups, then left.
He settled himself on the couch against the wall. His instinct to protect himself was obviously ingrained ? it gave him a full view of the room. I sat opposite him and lifted my cup, taking a sip before replacing it on the saucer.
“So,” I said, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” His eyebrows drew together. “I’m assuming this is to do with the old bank?”
He nodded, muttering, “Yes, that was Worth territory, and you stole it from under me.”
“Reginald, I made a more competitive offer than you. The seller accepted it. I didn’t even know you were interested in the property. Both you and I know neither of us has territory in the city center,” I stated, my voice hard.
“Your men gunned down two of mine last night, unprovoked,” he said, changing the subject.
“Again, you and I both know that’s bullshit. Every night, there’s another fight or disagreement between our men. The past six months have been difficult for both sides. We’ve both overstepped the mark.” He shrugged. “Until we call a truce, the men will keep fighting for their sides.”
“This started when you broke my daughter’s heart on her wedding day,” he barked. “Left her at the altar to be laughed at and mocked, while you ran off with your cheap tart. And she’s not even here.” My mood darkened instantly. “Then your bastard security breaks my son’s leg. Pardon me for not being overly forgiving.”
