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“I was propositioned.” I teased.
“Stop.”
“What? I was. Well, rescued is more like it. This guy needed a stylist; apparently, he has some events coming up. No idea on the pay, no idea on if it will even happen. Honestly, he may have just been flirting…” I added but debated. Was he flirting? He was incredibly persistent and wildly confident. It was as if I had no choice in the matter, he was there to take me, with or without my approval. He mentioned being short on time, so perhaps it was out of convenience rather than something more?
“Flirt?” Parker asked, his excitement more tamed.
“Maybe? It could have just been his personality. You know celebrities better than I do.”
“Celebrities?” He concealed a laugh, leaving me unsure if he was confused or excited. “Local New Yorker?”
“Definitely not.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Probably, I think he does actions movies. You like those, not me.”
“Well yeah, but how do you know him?”
“I don’t really. I mean, his face looked familiar, I’m sure you’ve seen it around New York.”
“Name?” Parker was interrogating, fishing his way as if filing a report. I wanted to string him along for a bit of fun; his face intrigued as if it were a game.
“Guess…”
“Gemma…”
I hummed for a moment, acting as if I didn’t know, but in reality, I truly forgot. I wanted to say Alec at first, but reminded myself it was Alex, having initially noticed that his height was similar to—if not slightly taller than—Alexander Skarsgård, who himself was already six-foot-four.
“Alex,” I said, mustering as much nonchalance as I could. “Alex Rivers.” The waitress from before approached with a pot of coffee. Parker held up his hand, his green eyes haunting like cursed jewels.
“Not now.” He instructed her, causing her eyes to widen before turning away.
“Ok? That was rude.” I chirped, adjusting a strand of hair back into my bun.
“What are you doing with Alex Rivers?” He asked, the mood no longer felt like a game, but instead a concern.
“Nothing yet. He has my business card, so now I’m waiting.”
“You gave that to him?”
“Well, no… he took it.”
“What do you mean hetookit?” He pressed further, his elbow leaned on the table. This movement alone caused a reaction in his bicep, and its structured size popped into sight.
“I mean, he reached into my bag and pulled them out… practically tore them apart with his teeth.” It sounded weird the way I admitted it, as if he were more of a dog than a man.
“No.” Parker folded his napkin onto the table, making a decision I was not yet privy to.
“No?” I asked. “No to what?”
“You can’t work with Alex Rivers.”
I pulled my head back, craning my neck to see if anyone was listening. Parker ensuring my Tabasco was ordered was cute. I loved when he looked after me that way. However, telling me who I couldn’t work with felt different. I didn't care for it.
“I can.” I replied, angrily retrieving my half-eaten bacon back from his plate. “There is no reason to say otherwise.”
“He’s the guy, Gemma.” Parker announced, his finger delivering a quick jab to the table. “My big fish; the case I’m working on at this very moment.” I stopped chewing, swallowing a large piece of toast that slowly scraped my throat. It felt uncomfortable, much like Parker’s confession.
