24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Madison
I want to touch you everywhere.
Parker’s words from the moment he cornered me against the Pink Diamond’s door played on repeat in my mind for days. A week had passed since the night he kissed me against my mother’s kitchen counter and I could still feel his lips on mine. I still remembered his taste on my tongue. The memory alone sent shivers down my spine.
But it didn’t matter. And not because he was my boss. Not because we were fake dating.
It didn’t matter because Parker was still in love with his dead wife.
Thanks to the wedding video we watched, I knew that Ryan wasn’t simply Parker’s friend. He was his brother-in-law. And Jessica wasn’t his lover. She was his wife’s mother. And there was no point at all in wasting energy being jealous of Melany. Parker hadn’t gotten over his wife. He hadn’t moved on. And by the way he distanced himself from me in the past week, lost in his thoughts and probably guilt, I knew our closeness was too much for him to bear.
And I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t exactly think what he did in that villa was particularly healthy. There were so many pictures of Franny. And that wedding video he played over and over again, trying to remember what he said to make her laugh? He was still grieving and hung up on her. I didn’t want to get involved in that.
New Year’s came and went and the morbid feeling I had only intensified the following days. I constantly thought about death and tried to imagine what Franny had looked like her last days before she died.
One night I couldn’t sleep and I decided to try Parker’s way and go walk around for a bit. My feet led me to the gazebo.
One of my heels got stuck in a crack between two wood planks. Unfortunately for me I was wearing a pair with straps and I couldn’t just slip the shoe off. So I crouched down, trying to unbutton the stuck shoe.
“Need help?”
Parker’s voice startled me and I forgot for a second I was stuck. I shot up to my feet and tried to turn around, which led to me falling on my ass. I heard his dark chuckle, but at least he had the decency to try and hide he was laughing at me, when I shot him a glare. He crouched down next to me, his face lit only by the soft lights around the gazebo, but I could see one of the corners of his mouth was curved upwards.
“Why do I always end up around you when I’m at my worst?” I murmured under my breath.
“Karma?”
I ignored his comment and tried to get up without ripping my pencil skirt in the process. Parker reached over, his fingertips grazing my ankle just for a moment before he took the buckle and tried to free my foot. Goosebumps, courtesy of his touch, covered my skin.
Desperate to hide the response of my body, because hello, the man was in love with his dead wife, he didn’t need me lusting over him, I pushed his hands away from me. “I can do it by myself.”
“Is there a problem with me doing it?”
“Yes.”
He stopped unbuckling my shoe, but his large warm hand wrapped around my ankle like he enjoyed touching me as much as I enjoyed being touched by him. “And what exactly is that problem?”
“I don’t need help.”
The fact that he pretended nothing had happened after yet another long period of him hiding away from me grated on my nerves.
“I didn’t say you needed help,” he argued but stood up and took a step back. “Have you ever thought about the possibility of me wanting to help you, because it would make me feel good?”
“It's not my job to make you feel anything. My job is to plan weddings. That's what you’re paying me for.”
Yep. I went there. I had the right to use everything I could come up with in order to keep us at a distance.
He shook his head, turned and walked away without a word.
When I finally managed to free my foot from the shoe and stood up, I dusted off my skirt and looked around. He was gone. I pulled the shoe out and made my way back towards my villa where I could pace around without worrying Parker would show up around the corner.
I thought about him being alone, watching that video on repeat and for a brief moment I contemplated marching over to The Blue Diamond and apologizing for the way I treated him when he offered to help me with my shoe. I could try to distract him from his suffering .
But what did I know about the kind of pain he was experiencing? Just one thing I knew for sure. He needed more than I could offer.
***
A few days later, I walked out of The Gem and got into the car Annie Foster had sent for me. I liked the Hollywood treatment I was getting. It was a pleasant distraction from everything that happened on Christmas and since then.
“We’re going to get Miss Foster now,” the driver informed me, and we drove off.
Forty minutes later, we arrived at the gates of an enormous mansion. We drove in and waited for twenty more minutes for Annie to get out of the house. When she finally did, she looked awful.
“I have the worst hangover in my entire life,” she greeted me. “We had a wrap party last night and I only got five hours of sleep. My head is killing me.”
“We could reschedule,” I offered. “You’re Annie Foster. I’m sure she would welcome you whenever.”
“True, but I’m trying not to act like the spoiled actress cliché, you know.”
I smiled. “Great. So we’re doing this.” I rubbed my hands together. “That’s my favorite part of planning a wedding.”
“Dealing with confused half-drunk brides?”
“You’re my first. It’s usually a drunk groom. I meant finding The Dress.”
I let her rest on the drive to the designer’s atelier. We arrived forty-five minutes later than we were supposed to. Two glasses of champagne waited for us. I glanced at ill-looking Annie when she took her glass. She shrugged and downed it in one go. “You know what people say? It helps with the hangover.”
“I don’t think that’s true. ”
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?” She asked with a smile.
An hour later I had the answer to that question. Annie got drunk all over again, only prolonging her misery, while the designer and I helped her try on different types of dresses. But the future bride had a hard time standing up without swaying and I had the feeling she was looking at her image in the mirror but her mind wasn’t there at all.
“Maybe we should reschedule,” I said to both of them. The designer nodded eagerly, probably scared to take any request Annie made in her state of mind seriously.
“Lighten up, you two,” Annie giggled. “I’m not as drunk as you think I am,” then she plopped down on a couch, the gown she was wearing covering the entire thing on both sides.
I leaned closer to the designer. “Can we do this again when she’s feeling better?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing. Let’s get her out of the dress.”
“Do you ever get tempted to try on a wedding gown, Maddie?” Drunk Annie asked while we undressed her.
“No,” I shook my head with a smile.
“Seriously?” She looked at me from head to toe. “You love fashion. I can tell.”
“I do. I'm just...,” I paused, looking for the right words. Being a wedding planner and admitting to one of your brides you weren't actually the marrying type, would be weird. “As much as I love fashion, this is all about the bride. I'm here for support and prevention.”
“Support and prevention?” Annie asked amused.
“Yes. My job is to support all the good decisions you make and prevent you from marrying in something that would make you burn your wedding photos two years from now. ”
The designer shot me an unamused glare while Annie giggled. “I like you, Maddie. I really do. And in a true diva moment, I will insist on you trying on a wedding dress. Now. Pick one.”
“No.”
“You can’t say no,” Annie whined and I shook my head again. “I’ll pick one then.”
“I thought you didn’t want to act like a diva.”
“Sometimes it’s too tempting. Pick one or I will.” She strolled through the atelier in her underwear, walking between the mannequins and stopped in front of a ballgown. “This one.”
The dress was a vision in pure white satin, with a full skirt that billowed out like a cloud. The bodice was covered in lace and delicate beading, shimmering in the light. The long sleeves glimmered with intricate details, and a long train flowed behind, adorned with small pearls and crystals. It was fit for a fairy tale wedding. Just like something a princess would wear.
I had never worn something like that before, so I shrugged. “You know what? Maybe just this one.”
“Yes,” Annie yelled and jumped, bumping into another mannequin.
The designer helped me put the gown on and Annie slapped a hand over her chest. “That's your dress. You should get married in it.”
The image of Parker in a tux at his wedding appeared in my mind and my gut tied into knots.
“Annie, enough with the champagne, okay? You are the one that's getting married.”
She burst out laughing. “You are so funny! It's so refreshing. I'm so sick of people who are afraid to talk to me. I want to be treated like a normal human being.” Then a sob escaped her lips .
“Okay, the party is over,” I said and turned to the designer. “Help me get her out of that dress.”
Ten minutes later Annie's driver and I got her into her car.
“Call me later, okay?” I instructed her.
“Oh, no. Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’ll call an Uber. You should go home and sleep.”
“No, we’re going to have a drink and you’re going to tell me who you were thinking about when you put on that dress,” she grinned.
“What?” I squealed and her smile grew bigger. “Annie, the last thing you need is another drink.”
“Maybe, but you obviously need more champagne to start talking and I really want to know his name.”
“There is no he ,” I assured her.
“I don’t believe you,” she slapped both her clammy palms over my cheeks. “Get in the car.”
I didn’t really want to go drinking with her, but I also wondered if she would be safe alone and drunk with her driver. Maybe he wouldn't take advantage of her, but it was enough for him to take a few pictures, then send them to the tabloids.
“You know what?” I smiled at her. “You’re right. We should have a drink. But I need to pick something up from The Gem first. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” Annie released my face. “Hop in.”
I climbed on the backseat and Annie instructed him to drive towards The Gem. Three minutes later she fell asleep, her mouth open, drool dripping from one corner. I took my phone out and shot Parker a text.
Me: Annie Foster got drunk.
His answer came almost immediately .
Parker: Is there a reason I should know that important piece of information?
Asshole.
Me: Yes. I’m taking her to The Gem. Can you make sure no one snaps a nasty picture of her?
Parker: My staff doesn't take pictures of our clients.
Was he seriously having that argument with me right now?
Me: What about the paparazzi? Do they take pictures of your clients?
The three dots indicating he was typing danced across the screen. I was prepared for a snarky text, but he surprised me.
Parker: Text me when you’re close.
Madison: Okay.
I glanced at Annie. She was sleeping, her head tilted at a weird angle. I had never had to drag a drunk woman to her car after a dress fitting. I wondered if I should call Roger, but I didn’t have his number and it didn’t feel right to take Annie’s phone while she slept. Besides, we were going to be at The Gem. Parker would take care of everything. The situation was under control.
I texted Parker as I promised and when we arrived at the hotel, he waited at the parking lot, Ryan and two more guys standing with him. The men approached the car before the driver had even parked and Parker opened my door while the engine was still running.
“Are you okay?”
The question caught me off guard and I stuttered. “Yes.”
“Are you drunk too?”
The others rounded the car to get to Annie.
“What?” I asked, offended. “Of course I’m not drunk. I was working. ”
Parker leaned inside the car to unclasp my seatbelt as if I was a toddler, his face inches away from mine. “I can smell the alcohol on your breath, Madison.”
“We were looking for a wedding dress. A glass of champagne is part of the experience.”
“I’m not paying you to get my clients drunk in broad daylight.”
“She’s a grown woman. She can drink as much as she wants to.”
“Get out of the car," he said through gritted teeth and snuck back out, leaving the door open for me, then rounded the vehicle.
They woke Annie up and she moaned as if in pain. “What’s going on?”
“You’re at The Gem, Annie,” Parker explained in a softer tone than he had just used with me.
“Oh, yes,” She stumbled over her own feet when they helped her out. “Maddie has to get something and we’re going out for a drink. She deserves a raise, that one.”
The look Parker shot me had my heart race, but it was his voice that sent chills down my spine. “Don’t worry, Annie. I’ll make sure Miss Hartley gets what she deserves.”