Part 29 (2/2)
Parker's home, similar to the others, stood on a gentle slope, and there was plenty of room to park at the curb. Lacey made her way to the front door and rang the bell.
A middle-aged woman with gla.s.ses, a white ap.r.o.n, and graying blonde hair in a bun on her head opened the door, a question on her face.
”h.e.l.lo. My name is Lacey Adair. I'm a friend of Parker's from Peabody.”
The woman stood aside to let Lacey in, no judgment or even an opinion on her face. ”Wait here, please” was all she said, and she walked off, disappearing into one of the hallways.
For a few minutes Lacey waited, anxious. Still, she barely moved from her spot, doing all her pacing in a tiny circle.
”Lace?” Parker emerged from the shadows of one of the hallways. Dressed in jeans, gray loafers, and a pink cashmere sweater, he exuded casual cool even in his off-hours. His attire hinted at wealth but didn't shove it down your throat.
”Hi, Parker.”
If he was surprised to see her, Parker soon recovered and gestured for her to follow. They entered a s.p.a.cious lounge with three couches, a large fireplace, antique furniture, art on the walls, and a grand piano by a set of French doors. It didn't scream opulence, but rich taste and refinement came through loud and clear.
As they sat down on opposite couches, the housekeeper reappeared. ”We have some excellent teas, Lace. Care to sample?” Parker asked politely.
”Um, sure, I'd love some.” Lacey hadn't come to drink tea and was eager to bring up the subject she was holding back. ”Parker-”
Parker raised a hand, palm up, effectively stopping Lacey cold. ”Music? Scones? A ma.s.sage? An erotic ma.s.sage?” Parker grinned wickedly, and Lacey quirked a smile.
”No, thank you. Now would you please stop distracting me, and let me speak?”
Parker leaned back, resting one arm on the back of the couch, and crossed his legs. ”I a.s.sume you've come to confess, my dear.”
Puzzled, Lacey asked, ”I'm sorry?”
”For eavesdropping on me and Marchand, and then on me and dear Deacon.”
Lacey blushed. ”I didn't intend to listen. I came to find you so you'd come with me to speak to the dean.”
”About Marchand?”
”Yes. I guess that matter is now moot.” Lacey kept their gazes connected, wanting to convey to her friend how grateful she was. ”I don't know how to thank you, Parker. I thought I was going to get kicked out or-”
”When we panic, we often see things in black and white, do or die, life or death. Much like being a teenager, wouldn't you say?” Parker's annoyingly knowing tone made him sound older and wiser, and Lacey had an inkling that was the effect he was going for.
Rolling her eyes, Lacey chuckled. ”You're a teenager too.”
Parker winked. ”I'm an old soul.”
”You're something all right.” Lacey grinned right back.
Parker laughed merrily. ”Well, now that that sordid business is concluded-”
”You didn't have to do that for me. Why did you?”
Parker tilted his head, looking positively bemused. ”You are my friend, my dear. What a silly question.”
”You took a huge gamble. Marchand could've-”
”No, he couldn't have. My connections and wealth trump his. Simple as that.”
”Simple as that?” Lacey echoed, dazed. ”That's it? Just... no problem?”
”None whatsoever.”
Suddenly they were interrupted by two middle-aged women, both wearing white skimpy tennis outfits, entering the foyer. The taller one with long silvery-blonde hair was skinny to the point of imminent anorexia, while the shorter one had voluptuous curves and short burgundy-colored hair cut in a bob. They stopped talking when they saw Parker and Lacey.
Parker got up, so Lacey did as well. ”Mother. Ms. Denning.” He bowed to the ladies.
The curvy one rolled her brown eyes. ”Parker, how many times have I told you to call me Jennifer?”
”Several dozen, I believe, Ms. Denning.”
”How many more are required?”
”A few dozen, Ms. Denning.” Parker grinned and then gestured at Lacey. ”Mother, Ms. Denning, this lovely young boy is Lacey Adair. You had the pleasure of hearing her play the violin on Sat.u.r.day.”
”Ah, yes, now I remember.” Ms. Denning came closer, extended her hand for Lacey to shake, and nodded in recognition. ”You played exceedingly well, Ms. Adair. Though I liked the Thais with Parker here, I must admit your Bergamasques Bergamasques was dazzling.” was dazzling.”
Lacey felt charmed herself. In addition to being the CEO of Boudoir Boudoir, a worldwide fas.h.i.+on magazine she had created and spearheaded for twelve years, Jennifer Denning was also rich, famous, and a well-known patroness of the arts. Just meeting her was a privilege. She had her hands in a lot of trendy areas of life, from fas.h.i.+on to film, from music to art, from men to women. Her reputation held a hint of notoriety.
Lacey swallowed down the lump in her throat and prayed her hand wasn't too sweaty. ”Ms. Denning, it's an honor to meet you.”
The woman smiled, pleased. ”I see I don't need to tell you who I am.”
Lacey shook her head. ”No, ma'am.”
”I'm so glad I got the chance to meet you in person. Parker here has been glorifying you from here to there.” Lacey stared at Parker, stunned into silence, opening and closing her mouth like a fish on dry land. Ms. Denning continued, ”As it happens, I had no other reason to stay at that dreadful, tedious party than to listen to the new talent of the eastern seaboard. I don't know if you are aware, but I have often recommended live fusion music at fas.h.i.+on shows.”
”Yes, I know.” Lacey smiled eagerly. ”I've seen a few of those shows on TV.”
”Are you interested in fas.h.i.+on?”
Lacey had to bite her lower lip. ”Um, no, not really.”
Ms. Denning only looked more pleased. ”I'm happy to hear that. Most all of the young talents I nurture tend to think I'm a first-cla.s.s ticket to high society and haute couture. They aren't wrong, of course, but the a.s.sumption is so dull and cliche.”
”Yes, of course.” Lacey had no idea where this conversation was heading.
”But I see Parker did not exaggerate about your skills, Ms. Adair. I would be more than happy to sponsor you and introduce you to the right people, those who can send your career into a steady climb towards stardom. Tell me, Ms. Adair, is fame what you seek?”
<script>