Page 78 of Parker
Boyd rises from his seat next to my mother. I suspect there is more to that relationship than I’m aware of. He takes his place on stage in front of the microphone.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Parker Fashion’s first-ever garden party. We hope this will become an annual event.” He smiles at the approving crowd. “We will serve your meal within minutes; during that time, you will see a fashion show of our key designs from the last fifty years, as well as exciting new pieces.” The crowd bursts into applause. He leaves the stage, grinning at his audience.
Upbeat music fills the room, and servers carrying multiple plates descend on the tables as the first model struts down the catwalk.
“Ooft,” Cole shouts in my ear, “how do you get any work done with talent like that in the office?” He points to the exceptionally tall woman dressed in nothing but a shred of a dress parading in front of us. “Joel, I’d have a non-stop boner. No bloody work would get done.”
He throws me a huge grin, and I shake my head at him. Over the course of the meal, I steal glances at Nicky across the room whenever I can. Sometimes our eyes meet, and she quickly looks away. Her cheeks blush with embarrassment each time, but a soft smile plays on her lips.
Sophie taps her arm enthusiastically, pointing toward the stage. A banner has been dropped behind the catwalk. Designs by Nicola Parker. Nicky puts her hands over her mouth in shock, then my mother stands and goes to her, cuddling her affectionately. The older woman kisses the young woman’s cheek.
Jealousy and sadness hit me like a sledgehammer.
Model after model parades down the catwalk wearing exquisite pieces. Deciding not to be an outlier anymore, I stand and walk over to the table, dropping to my knees between mymother and my ex-wife. My mother’s knowing gaze meets mine. She smiles conspiratorially at me. Nicky is turned toward Sophie and hasn’t noticed my arrival.
“How on earth did you get all the pieces ready?” she says to her friend. “I only gave you two.”
“Samples,” she says with a smile. “Imelda and I raided your sample box. The seamstresses at Parker Fashion did the rest.”
Nicky turns back to my mother and spots me in the process. Her eyes dart from me to my mother.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “It’s amazing seeing all my work here today like this.” A single tear runs down her cheek. “I can’t thank you enough.”
My mother simply smiles at her and says, “I hope you didn’t mind me using the name Parker. It’s what you were known as. I wanted everyone here to know who designed these incredible pieces.”
“Congratulations. Everything looks incredible.” I say to bring her focus to me. “Would you like to meet the models? I’m sure they would love to meet the woman who designed the creations they’re wearing.”
I hold out my hand, willing her to take it. She does and stands, gazing up at me. I link her arm through mine.
“We’ll be back in a moment,” I tell the others watching on. Ebony straightens in her chair, face pinched. Sophie’s jaw is almost on the floor. She gives me a warning look when Nicky is turned away from her. I ignore her.Keep your opinions to yourself.
“Did you know about this?” Nicky asks as we move backstage.
“All my mother, I’m afraid. I saw the banner the first time you did. She only told me you were displaying a few pieces, not having your own catwalk show.”
She stops to face me, her eyes boring into mine.
“Does it bother you I’m here?” she asks. “Or your girlfriend?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I reply.
“Joel, I’ve seen the photos of you at events with Ebony multiple times. And Sophie’s told me about the meal. You don’t have to protect my feelings if you’ve moved on.” A pang of sadness washes over her expression. “I wish you every happiness.” My gut twists.
“Ebony isn’t my girlfriend,” I mutter.
“What is she then?”
“A work colleague.” I give her a pointed look, trying to stop the conversation. But with this woman, it doesn’t work.
“A colleague you stay in hotels with. An associate with benefits then?”
“Nicky, I don’t want to have this conversation with you.” We’re standing outside the marquee at the entrance to the model’s preparation area. “Ebony is none of your concern. Just know she’s not important in all of this.”
“Why are you not sitting together today?”
She cocks her head to one side, studying my expression. I hate it when she does that.
“Because…” I trail off, wondering how truthful to be.
