3. Parker
3
PARKER
M y alarm goes off at 8 a.m. on the dot, causing a shrill beeping to reverberate through my apartment. I quickly shut it off without moving too much. I can’t believe it’s Monday, and my hangover still has me in a chokehold. One hurried movement and a shooting pain sears through my skull.
I didn’t mean to drink that much when I went out, but the minute I saw Dylan out at the club, only hours after sitting through two painstakingly long hours on a plane next to her, my self-control went out the window. I’m not sure what’s worse. The urge to vomit that’s bubbling in my stomach or seeing the one that got away twice in one day after years of no contact.
I rub the sleep out of my eyes with the palms of my hands and slowly push the comforter down, attempting to climb out of bed. It’s the first day of my new job, and while I may feel like shit, I have to go in and make a good impression. I worked my ass off to get where I am today, and I can’t ruin that on the first day.
I make my way to a standing position, staying extremely still until I’m confident that I can manage to take the few steps it takes to get to my bathroom without puking all over my new rug. I did pretty well for myself in California, which allowed me to decorate my East Village one-bedroom apartment with fine furnishings. The last thing I need to do is stain it because I’d prefer to drink myself to death rather than sit with my emotions.
I open my medicine cabinet, grab the Tylenol bottle, and pop three pills in my mouth. I need all the help I can get if I’m going to survive the day. I’m the boss now, and I only have one chance to get everyone to take me seriously.
After swallowing the medicine with a large swig of water, I splash freezing cold water on my face. I can physically feel my balls shrivel up into my stomach, but it’s worth it when I feel relief from the nausea that’s been tormenting me. Within minutes, my teeth are brushed, and the mop of hair I have is now styled.
We’re halfway there; I give myself a pep talk.
I saunter shakily over to my walk-in, albeit small, closet and begin to shuffle through the few shirts I managed to hang after landing in the city. I had every intention of unpacking most of my stuff this past weekend, but I quickly derailed those plans.
I’m not one to go out often, but when my best friend Blake texted me inviting me out to meet some friends of his, I figured I should try to be social. He’s basically the only person I know in New York, so I might as well try to make new friends. Especially since Dylan immediately shut me down when I suggested staying in touch.
Just the thought of her sends another wave of nausea through me, forcing me to lean against the closet wall to keep me steady. Shake it off, man . There’s no need to go back to those feelings.
I give my shoulders a little shrug and focus back on the dress shirts sprawled out on the hangers in front of me. I decide on a plain white t-shirt along with a matching light navy blazer and dress pant set. To dress it down, I grab a pair of white sneakers and head back to my bedroom. I swiftly grab my phone off its charger and my work briefcase resting beside my nightstand.
I don’t have any food yet, which means I have to grab something on my way into the office. I just hope I can stomach the bagel I’ve been dreaming about since I landed.
As I push through the doors of Blue Bird, I’m met with a smiling face from a timid receptionist.
“You must be Parker. Welcome to the office,” she welcomes me warmly.
I respond with the best smile I can muster up and a quick nod, still wary of moving too quickly. Even though I was able to keep my breakfast (which was, in fact, one of the best bagels I’ve ever had) down, I can’t be too sure that the remnants of the hangover are gone yet.
I trudge my way to my office, a small corner space with floor-to-ceiling windows and one hell of a view of Central Park. I don’t typically like to gloat, but I know I killed it at my last job. I just didn’t think I did this well. I have Blake to thank for that, though. We worked together on the West Coast, and after putting in a good word for me, he managed to land me one of the most sought-after positions in New York.
I twist the door handle and swing the door open to find Blake leaning against my empty desk, typing up a storm on his phone. The startle it sends through me causes the room to spin, and I grip the door handle tighter before I lose my balance. When I’m confident I’m not going faceplant, I move my hands to my temples to ease the pressure .
Speaking of the devil.
“Jesus, dude. You can’t scare me like that.”
He looks up from his phone with a holier-than-thou grin on his face. “Looks like someone really can’t handle their alcohol. You okay there?”
I steady myself down in the vacant chair behind the desk. He turns around to look at me, his mouth twisted wryly.
“Maybe if you hadn’t insisted on pouring tequila down my throat, I’d be in a much better position than I’m in right now,” I snap back.
“You did that to yourself. You looked like you saw a ghost. I was just there to help calm the nerves.” He tucks his phone and hands into his pocket and walks to the window, taking in the scenery.
“Well, you certainly did that. I can barely remember anything past the third shot you physically forced me to take.”
He sits on the window sill facing me, hands tucked into his armpits. “So you’re saying you don’t remember getting on the table and dancing to Dancing Queen by ABBA?”
I groan and shut my eyes tightly. That had to be some kind of sick joke. I’ve been known to do some stupid things under the influence, but I’m not sure I’d ever stoop to that level.
“That didn’t happen. You’re just fucking with me.”
He lets out a deep snicker and grabs his phone back out of his pocket to put it on display. “No, it definitely happened. And I have it all on here. You can guarantee that I will be using it as blackmail when the time comes.”
“You’re a dick,” I retort.
“Is that really how you want to treat the person who got you your dream job?”
“Yeah, yeah. Can’t wait to have you hold that over my head for the rest of my life.” I murmur.
“That’s what best friends are for. Aside from the obvious hangover and the smell of liquor currently seeping from your pores, how are you feeling?” he inquires as he sits on the chair on the other side of my desk, kicking his feet up and resting his loafers on the wood.
I subtly lift my arm, trying to catch a whiff of myself. I thought I drowned myself in enough cologne to mask the scent. I can’t smell anything aside from the leathery muskiness of Le Labo’s Santal 33, so I ignore him.
“Feeling pretty good. I read all of the manuscripts that you sent over last week. There’s a lot of potential there.”
He bows his head in agreement. “Good, because word on the street is that there’s a new up-and-coming author slated to be a New York Times best seller. I want you to spearhead the project.”
There are some benefits to being best friends with your boss, but the last thing I need to do is get work because of nepotism. That’s a surefire way to get everyone in the office to hate me right off the bat.
“Why me?”
He lifts a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. Asshole.
Blake readjusts, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward to get closer to me. “I’m kidding. You’re great at what you do, and this is the opportunity of a lifetime. I briefly read the manuscript myself last week, and I know it’s going to be huge. This could be killer for your career. I already emailed it to you this morning to have you take a look.”
Perfect. One day in, I’m already being handed this golden opportunity on a platter. No pressure or anything.
“In that case, I need to get to work. Seems like I’ve got quite a lot of reading to do.”
He stands up, smoothing down his black button-up shirt. “Yes, you do. In the meantime, you should get the ball rolling on marketing. Since you’re new here, I already emailed you the name of the agency we’ve partnered up with in the past.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” I grab my laptop from my briefcase and fire it up, opening my email. Sure enough, at the top of my inbox are multiple emails breaking down everything I need to know about my newest client.
“Good luck today. You’ve got this.” He gives me a little two-finger salute before going back to his own office next door. Once the door is shut and I can finally sit in silence, I click on his first email.
I spend the next three hours in a reading trance. Blake wasn’t kidding when he said that this book was incredible. It’s unlike anything I have ever read. With some small tweaks, it could be huge.
According to Blake’s email, I only have two weeks to get working with a marketing agency to get us ready for the May release date they’ve projected.
While Blake likes to fuck with me in every way imaginable, I know that he takes his work as seriously as I do, which is why I draft up a new email to Katherine over at Thrive Creative Co.
Being wrapped up in work almost makes me forget about the weekend and hangover from hell. Keyword: almost.