Read Online Parker (Rich & Single #2) by Lexy Timms - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lexy Timms
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was?” Jackson brushed his hair back out of his eyes and looked across the desk at Parker. “All I’m saying is, watch yourself. Not every woman you meet is going to fall into your bed, and it’s better to give up on some of them before you start.”
“Dude. When’s the last time you got laid? Never mind. I don’t really care. We’re going out tonight, and you’re going to have a drink and chill. Because you are way too uptight.”
“I’m not uptight, and I have things to do tonight if we’re launching a new social media campaign tomorrow.”
Parker could have argued that first point, but he decided it was probably better just to let it go for now. “Fine. This weekend, then.”
Jackson pulled his phone out of the front pocket of his laptop case and glanced through it, probably checking his schedule. “Okay,” he said finally. Reluctant. “This weekend.”
“I knew you’d come around. I’ll drop by and grab you on the way to the club. We’ll find someone who will take you home and help you remember how to relax.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“I’m an awesome wingman.”
“You’re a terrible wingman. They’re always using me to get to you.”
It was an argument as old as their friendship. Parker laughed, and reached out to clap Jackson on the shoulder as he walked past on his way to the door. “Seriously, dude. Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fun.”
“If you say so.”
“Get out of my office and go be a pessimist somewhere else.”
He gave Jackson a shove, and Jackson, grinning, stepped out into the main room of the gym.
“All right. I’ll see you later, man.”
“And you.”
Jackson walked away, looking totally out of place between the workout machines in his suit and tie, and Parker shook his head. Still laughing, he went to get ready for his next client.
***
The video crew showed up the next morning between his cardio class and his first home call appointment. They set up in the corner of the gym where they could put lights on him while he did bench presses, and spritzed him down with water to make it look like he’d been sweating, despite his protests that he could have just done the reps. Why fake it when they could catch real action on camera? Apparently Jackson had told them not to listen to him, because the director didn’t seem even a little intimidated, and eventually Parker sighed and went with their plan. They were the professionals.
Then they handed him a script.
“No.”
The director looked up from where he was fiddling with one of the cameras. “What do you mean, 'No'?”
“I mean I'm not going to read someone else's words when I accept this challenge. It's my company. The challenge was to me. It's bad enough that I have to stage a workout. I'm going to answer the challenge myself.”
“You know Jackson wrote the script?”
“I don't care.” Parker set it down on top of the director's chair. “Jackson knew when he wrote that script that I wouldn't read it, so I don't know why he bothered.”
Actually, he knew exactly why Jackson had bothered. He was probably sitting in his office laughing while he imagined Parker's reaction, and the director's reaction to Parker. Bastard was going to pay for that sometime when he least expected it.
Parker stretched out on the weight bench and waited for the rest of them to get with the program.
“No script, then,” the director said, in a tone that told Parker he'd probably be having words with Jackson. He turned to the crew. “Lights. Camera. Okay. And. Action.”
Parker lifted the barbell, grunting a little with the weight of it, and straightened his arms. It was a familiar motion, as routine as any of the others from his workouts. He lowered the weight back to the bars that held it in place, and then lifted it again. Lowered it. He sat up, and looked into the camera. “Six years ago, when I started my company, all I owned was a set of weights and a car. I worked from clients’ houses,
“Dude. When’s the last time you got laid? Never mind. I don’t really care. We’re going out tonight, and you’re going to have a drink and chill. Because you are way too uptight.”
“I’m not uptight, and I have things to do tonight if we’re launching a new social media campaign tomorrow.”
Parker could have argued that first point, but he decided it was probably better just to let it go for now. “Fine. This weekend, then.”
Jackson pulled his phone out of the front pocket of his laptop case and glanced through it, probably checking his schedule. “Okay,” he said finally. Reluctant. “This weekend.”
“I knew you’d come around. I’ll drop by and grab you on the way to the club. We’ll find someone who will take you home and help you remember how to relax.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“I’m an awesome wingman.”
“You’re a terrible wingman. They’re always using me to get to you.”
It was an argument as old as their friendship. Parker laughed, and reached out to clap Jackson on the shoulder as he walked past on his way to the door. “Seriously, dude. Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fun.”
“If you say so.”
“Get out of my office and go be a pessimist somewhere else.”
He gave Jackson a shove, and Jackson, grinning, stepped out into the main room of the gym.
“All right. I’ll see you later, man.”
“And you.”
Jackson walked away, looking totally out of place between the workout machines in his suit and tie, and Parker shook his head. Still laughing, he went to get ready for his next client.
***
The video crew showed up the next morning between his cardio class and his first home call appointment. They set up in the corner of the gym where they could put lights on him while he did bench presses, and spritzed him down with water to make it look like he’d been sweating, despite his protests that he could have just done the reps. Why fake it when they could catch real action on camera? Apparently Jackson had told them not to listen to him, because the director didn’t seem even a little intimidated, and eventually Parker sighed and went with their plan. They were the professionals.
Then they handed him a script.
“No.”
The director looked up from where he was fiddling with one of the cameras. “What do you mean, 'No'?”
“I mean I'm not going to read someone else's words when I accept this challenge. It's my company. The challenge was to me. It's bad enough that I have to stage a workout. I'm going to answer the challenge myself.”
“You know Jackson wrote the script?”
“I don't care.” Parker set it down on top of the director's chair. “Jackson knew when he wrote that script that I wouldn't read it, so I don't know why he bothered.”
Actually, he knew exactly why Jackson had bothered. He was probably sitting in his office laughing while he imagined Parker's reaction, and the director's reaction to Parker. Bastard was going to pay for that sometime when he least expected it.
Parker stretched out on the weight bench and waited for the rest of them to get with the program.
“No script, then,” the director said, in a tone that told Parker he'd probably be having words with Jackson. He turned to the crew. “Lights. Camera. Okay. And. Action.”
Parker lifted the barbell, grunting a little with the weight of it, and straightened his arms. It was a familiar motion, as routine as any of the others from his workouts. He lowered the weight back to the bars that held it in place, and then lifted it again. Lowered it. He sat up, and looked into the camera. “Six years ago, when I started my company, all I owned was a set of weights and a car. I worked from clients’ houses,
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