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“What?”
“Promise me you’ll make a good impression and give this a try. For me?” He asked. I hated this, I hated everything about what he was asking me to do. It pained me to see the man I loved be taken, to be forced to watch him kiss and hold hands with another woman. I pinched the skin on my wrist, hoping this was all some terrible nightmare.
“Hmmm...” I hummed.
“Promise me?” He asked quickly as Camilla approached.
I stared into his eyes. Even with all this, the pain and hurt, I couldn’t let him down, I wouldn’t. I’d do anything for Parker, even suffer through my own personal hell. He’d do the same for me. We had a close-knit bond, a friendship filled with years of having one another’s back.
“Ok… I’ll try. I promise.” I muttered in a quick hush.
“What’d I miss?” Camilla asked, her sultry voice addressed us with authority.
“Nothing,” we said in unison. She eyeballed us suspiciously but opened her menu back up.
I shifted uncomfortably in my metal chair, watching as our waiter filled our glasses with dark red wine. I half expected a basket of bread, depending on it as my entree for tonight, but was greeted only with a plate of brown crisp crackers and grains.
Camilla pulled Parker by the tie, bringing him in for a kiss. My tie of all things, the one I got for his birthday. I instantly felt so dumb, the buildup I caused myself, seeing the hidden signs which weren’t there. Parker pulled away, giving Camilla a stare as if to calm her down. I cleared my throat, feeling more like a third wheel than ever before.
“So sorry, Gemma. For a moment, I forgot you were here. You’re so quiet, like a cute little mouse.” Camilla stated with a pouty lip.
“It’s easy to forget things when you’re overworked. Your makeup must have taken all night to put on,” I adjusted the tie on Parker’s chest, placing it back in order. “It’s so romantic here, I can’t believe Parker insisted I come. I guess it's because we’re just so close.” I declared, speaking with my truest authenticity. “Are you sure you want me here?”
The moment the words slipped out of my mouth, Camilla’s lips curled as if she claimed some small victory. Parker didn’t hesitate, resting his hand on my wrist, gesturing for me not to move.
“This isn’t just for Mila and I, this is about us, all together for a dinner. Please.” He mouthed the wordtry,reminding me of my promise.
“It’s a dinner you won’t forget,” Camilla hummed, “a chance to expand your horizons.” She placed her hand down on Parker’s thigh, giving it a squeeze. Camilla was flaunting him on purpose, sensing my clear jealousy from the very beginning. I was not here for this, or her sea witch energy.
“I’m sure you're right,” I cut in quickly, “Parker has so few important women in his life, me and Meg included.”
“Meg?” Camilla panicked, as if he were friends with another woman.
“My mother.” Parker laughed, gauging her reaction. Ah yes, what would Mama Meg say about Camilla? Mama Meg was one of the sweetest women around. I imagined her here, sipping on her signature sangrias, probing Camilla’s genuine self.
I picked up the menu, trying my best to appease Parker. “So,” I sighed towards Camilla, “What do you recommend? I’m not sure I can do the oysters, but I’m open to something different.”
“Youcan’t dooysters?” She scoffed. Without a care, she glanced at Parker for a moment then brought her eyes back towards me. “Be brave, Gemma! How can you call yourself a New Yorker when you haven’t had oysters?”
Brave? I didn’t realize eating oysters was equivalent to going to war. Brave was her shade of lipstick, which clearly clashed with her foundation. That was a lie, it didn’t clash, but it felt good to say in my head regardless. She spoke to me like a bratty sister, as if I was too naive to enjoy the sophistication of her god-awful taste. I twisted the napkin in my lap, opening my mouth, but was interrupted.
“Gemma doesn't need to eat oysters. But she’s welcome to if she wants.” Parker sipped his wine, “They'll be for the table.”
“They are nature’s aphrodisiac,” her dark eyes peeked out at Parker, her lashes full and gorgeous, “isn’t that right, babe?”
I closed my eyes, allowing a silent breath to seep out. If Parker wanted me to make a good impression, then I would, but Ca-milla sure as hell wasn’t making it easy. The waitress appeared, cheerfully asking around for our orders, while I stared at the menu, skimming it for the filet Parker mentioned.
“You’ll love it, Gem, I promise.” Camilla’s soft words squeaked as I looked up.
“It’s Gemma.” I took offense. I’d be polite as long as she was, and I promised to only mirror what she felt was right to give. As I stared, I noticed the waitress had already left, “I didn’t even get to order...” Parker looked up too, realizing the same.
“I placed the order for us, they’ll bring oysters first, then entrees later. If you’re still hungry that is.”
“Awesome.” I sucked in my lips. Pretending to be happy was a challenge, but I did owe Parker my best attempt. “So… Camilla, what do you do for a living?” I asked quickly.
“I’m a journalist forNew York Prestige. I cover the pop-culture column. I guess Parker has held off on bragging about me?” She pursed her lips together, snapping a quick glare at Parker. “Actually, that’s how we met. I was doing an article on a local case, and one of the appointed lawyers that took my interview was Parker. Obviously, he’s so gorgeous,” she laughed, looking to the heavens as if giving thanks, “I had to make a move like a total boss babe. I asked to use his phone and texted myself.” Camilla giggled.
“More like she pried it out of my hands,” Parker interrupted. “I wasn't sure I had a choice.”
