Amber put her hands up to her face and cried real tears of panic. “It’s not what you think.” She choked back a sob.
“What is it, then?” Meredith’s tone was steely.
Amber sniffled and wiped her nose. “I can explain. But not to her.” She spat out the last word.
“Give it up, girl.” Meredith’s voice rose. “Who are you, and what do you want?”
“Meredith, please. This isn’t helping,” Daphne said. “Amber, calm down. I’m sure there’s a good explanation. Tell me what this is all about.”
Amber sank back into the chair, hoping she looked as distraught as she felt. “I know it looks bad. I didn’t want to have to tell anyone. But I had to get away.”
“Away from what?” Meredith insisted, and Amber shrank back more.
“Meredith, please let me ask the questions,” Daphne said and put her hand gently on Amber’s knee. “What were you running away from, sweetie?”
Amber closed her eyes and sighed. “My father.”
Daphne looked like she’d been struck. “Your father? Did he hurt you?”
Amber hung her head as she spoke. “I’m so ashamed to tell you this. He . . . he raped me.”
Daphne gasped.
“I’ve never told another soul.”
“Oh my God,” Daphne said. “I’m so sorry.”
“It went on for years, from the time I was ten. He left Charlene alone as long as I was around and didn’t tell. That’s why I had to stay. I couldn’t let him hurt her.”
“That’s horrible . . . couldn’t you tell your mother?”
She sniffled. “I tried. But she didn’t believe me, said I was just trying to get attention, and she’d whip my butt if I ever told anyone else such a ‘vile lie.’” A quick glance out of the corner of her eye assured her that Daphne believed her, but Meredith looked unconvinced.
“So what happened exactly?” Meredith’s voice sounded almost mocking, and Amber saw Daphne give her a look.
“I stayed until Charlene died. He told me if I left, he’d hunt me down and kill me. So I had to change my name. I hitchhiked to Nebraska and met a guy in a bar. He found me a roommate. I worked waitressing and saved my money until I had enough to come here and start over. He worked at the hall of records and got me the information on the missing girl, introduced me to someone who made me an ID in Amber’s name.”
Amber waited a beat for the women to respond.
To her great relief, Daphne rose and took her in her arms. “I’m so sorry,” she said again.
Meredith wasn’t letting it go, though. “What? Daphne, do you mean to tell me you’re just going to take her word for it and not investigate? I can’t believe this.”
Daphne’s eyes were cold. “Please go, Meredith. I’ll call you later.”
“You have a blind spot where she’s concerned.” Meredith walked to the door in a huff and turned around before she left. “Mark my words, Daphne—this will not end well.”
Daphne took Amber’s hand. “Don’t you worry. No one will ever hurt you again.”
“What about Meredith? What if she tells people?”
“You let me worry about Meredith. I’ll make sure she doesn’t breathe a word.”
“Please don’t tell anyone, Daphne. I have to keep pretending I’m Amber. You don’t know how he is. He’ll find me, wherever I am.”
Daphne nodded. “I won’t tell another soul, not even Jackson.”
Amber felt a little guilty for painting her father in such a bad light. After all, he’d worked nonstop at the cleaner’s to support her mother and her three sisters, and he would never have touched any of his daughters. Of course, he’d also made all of them work at that damn store for free, which she was pretty sure was child slave labor, close enough to child abuse. So what if he never touched her? He still took advantage of her.
Suddenly she didn’t feel so guilty anymore. She raised her head from Daphne’s shoulder and looked her in the eye. “I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you. Thank you for always being there for me.”
Daphne smiled and smoothed Amber’s hair. “You’d do the same for me.”
Amber gave her a forlorn smile and nodded.
Daphne started to walk from the room, then turned back. “I’ll tell Bella that The Wizard of Oz will have to wait. I think you deserve to pick tonight.”
Amber smiled a genuine smile—she couldn’t wait to see the look of disappointment on the little princess’s face. “That would really help me get my mind off things.”
Twenty-Four
Growing up, Amber had always hated the Fourth of July. The only good thing about that day was that her father closed the dry cleaner’s. She and her three sisters would watch the parade—the high school marching band that was always screechingly off-key, at least one majorette who would drop her batons, and some plump-faced farm girl who would wave with glee from a hay-filled wagon. It was all so hokey and embarrassing, Amber cringed every time.
But this year was different. Quite different. Amber sat with Daphne on the back deck of the Parrishes’ sixty-five-foot Hatteras as it sped across the Sound. They were spending the entire weekend on the boat, and Amber was over the moon. She’d gone shopping with Daphne and spent more than she had planned, but she wanted to look her absolute best every moment since she’d be near Jackson twenty-four/seven. She bought a new white bikini and then splurged on a one-piece black suit with a long, low V in the front and cutouts on the sides. It was one of the sexiest suits she’d ever seen, and Daphne had nodded her approval when Amber walked out from the dressing room. Her cover-up was sheer, so her body would never be hidden from him. For when they went ashore, she’d gotten white shorts that barely covered her buttocks and tank tops that clung just a bit. She’d brought skinny white pants for evening, a few T-shirts, and a casual navy sweater to throw over her shoulders. She’d even gotten a spray tan. This was her time to shine.
Jackson stood at the controls, his legs tanned and muscular, in a pair of khaki shorts and white golf shirt. He moved with utter confidence and mastery. He turned to where Daphne and Amber sat and called to them over the noise, “Hey, sweetheart, can you get me a beer?”
Daphne reached into the cooler and brought out a can of Gordon Ale, dripping with cold water. She had to admit, Daphne’s black bikini showed off her perfect body to its best advantage. She had hoped Daphne would be wearing something more matronly, but no such luck. Daphne handed it to Amber. “Here, why don’t you give it to him? You can get a lesson on how to handle a boat.”
Amber took the can from Daphne and jumped up. “Sure. . . . Hey.” She tapped Jackson on the shoulder. “Here’s your beer.”
“Thanks.” He opened it, took a sip, and Amber noticed his long fingers and fine hands, immediately imagining them on her body.
“Daphne said you’d give me a boat-driving lesson,” she said coyly.
“Boat driving. Is that what she called it?” He laughed.
“Well, maybe not. I can’t remember.”
“Here,” he said, moving slightly to the right. “Take the wheel.”
“What? No. What if we crash?”
“You’re cute. What are we going to crash into? You really don’t have to move it much. Just point the end of the bow in the direction you want to go and don’t make any sudden jerking moves.”
She put her hands on the wheel and concentrated on the water, her nerves subsiding a bit as she got the feel of it.
“Good,” he said. “Steady as you go.”
“This is fun,” she said, throwing her head back and laughing. “I could do this all day.”
Jackson patted her on the back. “Great. It’s good to have a partner up here. Daphne isn’t crazy about the boat. Prefers the kayak.”
Amber widened her eyes. “Really? I can’t imagine that. This is way better than kayaking.”
“Maybe you can convince my wife of that.” He took another sip of ale and looked back to where Daphne sat, quietly reading The Portra
it of a Lady.
Amber followed his gaze and put a reassuring hand on his arm. “I’m sure she likes it more than you think. I know I would.”
She stayed at the wheel for the next hour, asking questions and praising Jackson for his depth of navigation knowledge. She made him promise to show her the charts later, so she could study them and learn about the waters around Connecticut. And every now and then, she’d move close enough that her body would barely touch his. When she thought it might be too obvious, she turned the wheel back over to Jackson and went back to sit with Daphne. They were approaching Mystic, and the sun was beginning to set.
Daphne looked up from her book. “Well, you seemed to be enjoying yourself. Did you learn a lot?”
Amber searched Daphne’s face for any sign of annoyance, but she seemed genuinely delighted that Amber was having a good time. “I liked it,” she said. “Jackson knows so much.”
“This boat is his favorite thing. He’d be on it every weekend if I let him.”
“You don’t love it, do you?”
“I like it. I just don’t like spending all my time on it. We have a beautiful home, the beach, and a pool. I like being there. On the boat there’s just endless water, and it takes so much time to get anywhere. I start to get bored. And the girls begin to get antsy too. It’s a small space, and it’s hard to keep everything in order.”
Amber wondered again at Daphne’s obsession with neatness. Did she ever lighten up and relax?
“Well, you have to admit it’s pretty exciting. The wind rushing through your hair and ripping through the water,” Amber said.
“I especially don’t enjoy speeding. To tell you the truth, I prefer sailing. It’s quiet. I feel much more connected to nature when I’m on a sailboat.”
“Does Jackson like it?” Amber asked.
“Not much. Don’t get me wrong—he’s a good sailor. Knows his stuff. But he can fly at top speed on this, and he likes fishing too.” She pushed her hair back from her face. “My boyfriend in college grew up sailing, so we spent a lot of time on his family’s sailboat. That’s where I learned.”
“I guess I can understand why you’d like that better,” Amber said.
“It’s fine, really. I make sure to bring a good book, and the girls bring games. And of course it’s always fun to have a friend like you aboard.”
“Thanks for asking me, Daph. It’s a real treat for me.”
“You’re welcome,” Daphne said, yawning and rising from her chair. “I’m going below to check on the girls. You don’t mind if I lie down for a few minutes before dinner, do you?”
“Of course not. Go ahead and rest.” Amber watched her go down the stairs and immediately took up her position next to Jackson again. “Daphne’s taking a nap. I think she was getting bored.”
She watched his face for a reaction, but if he had any irritation, he certainly didn’t show it.
“She’s a good sport about it.”
“She is. She was telling me about all the fun she had in college when she and her old boyfriend would go sailing together.” Amber noticed a slight twitch in Jackson’s cheek. “I don’t know. That seems so tame compared to this.”
“Why don’t you have another go? I’ll grab us a couple of drinks.”
She gripped the wheel and felt like she might finally, slowly, be taking control of the helm.
* * *
Later that night, after a leisurely dinner in Mystic, the five of them walked back to the marina under a warm, star-studded sky.
“Daddy,” Tallulah said as they ambled. “Are we going to anchor out and watch the fireworks tomorrow night?”
“Absolutely. Just like we always do.”
“Goody,” Bella said. “I want to sit way up on the fly bridge all by myself. I’m old enough now.”
“Not so fast, little one.” Jackson took one of her hands and Daphne grabbed the other, and they swung her between them. “You can’t go alone yet.”
“I want to lie down on the forward deck like I did last year and watch from there,” Tallulah piped up.
“Daddy will sit on the bridge with you, Bella, and I’ll be on deck with Tallulah.” She turned to Amber. “And you should go up with Jackson and Bella. It’s a great place to watch from, especially since this is your first time.”
That’s fine with me, Amber thought.
It was a little past ten when they got back to the boat, and once again, Amber found herself alone with Jackson as Daphne took the children below to get them ready for bed. He had gotten some wine from the galley and was back with three glasses in one hand and the bottle of muscat in the other.
“Too early to finish the night. What do you say we have a glass before turning in?”
“Sounds great,” Amber said.
They sat in the warm night air, sipping wine and chatting about Parrish International’s latest acquisition and how the financing would work. When Daphne appeared, Jackson poured another glass and handed it to her. “Here, sweetheart.”
“No, thank you, darling. I’m feeling rather sleepy. Probably shouldn’t have had such a big meal. I think I’ll hit the sack.”
Actually, Amber thought, Daphne really did look tired. But big meal? She’d hardly touched her food.
“Well, good night, you two.” She smiled at Jackson. “I’ll keep the night-light on for you.”
“I’ll be down soon. You get some rest.”
After she disappeared, Amber poured herself another glass of wine. “I remember how tired my mother used to get, and how she stopped staying up late. My father would joke and say things had really changed from their hot dating days.”
Jackson looked into his glass as he twirled the stem. “Are your parents alive?”
“Yes. They’re back in Nebraska. Daphne reminds me a lot of my mom.”
A faint hint of surprise registered on his face and was quickly replaced by his usual inscrutability. Amber was beginning to realize that he was particularly skilled at keeping his thoughts and feelings hidden.
“How are they alike?”
“Well, they’re both homebodies. My mom liked nothing better than watching a sentimental movie with us kids. A lot of times, when you’re away, Daph invites me over for movie night with Tallulah and Bella. It’s fun, reminds me of home. And I think she gets sort of tired of all these charity events and art openings and all those things. At least, that’s what she tells me.”
“That’s interesting,” Jackson said. “What else?”
“Well, she likes quiet things, my mom, like Daphne. My mom would have hated how fast this boat goes and all the wind in her face. Not that we had boats, but my dad did have a motorcycle. She hated it—the noise and the speed. She preferred her bicycle, slow and quiet.” More crap, but she was making her point.
He was quiet.
“I thought it was thrilling, being at the helm and speeding across the water. But maybe tomorrow we should take it a little slower, so that Daphne enjoys it too.”
“Yes, good idea,” he said idly and finished the wine in his glass.
Things were humming along now. And she hoped that tomorrow night, there would be more fireworks than the ones in the sky.
Twenty-Five
Right after the Fourth of July, Amber finally secured the coveted position of Jackson’s first assistant. The résumés had dwindled, and anything that looked too good, Amber had tossed. She had made herself indispensable to Jackson since Mrs. Battley’s departure, so when he called her into his office, she felt sure it was to tell her she was officially his new assistant. She took a pad and pen with her and sat in a leather armchair across from his desk, careful to cross her black-stockinged legs to their best advantage. She looked at him through thick lashes she had gotten plumped at the aesthetician’s and slightly parted glossy lips. She knew her teeth, recently whitened at the dentist’s, looked perfect against her lips.
Jackson stared at her a moment and then began. “I think you know how helpful you’ve been these last months.
I’ve decided to suspend the search for a new assistant and am offering the position to you if you’re interested.”
She wanted to jump up and shout but didn’t betray her glee. “I’m overwhelmed. I’m definitely interested. Thank you.”
“Good. I’ll talk to Human Resources.” He looked down at a document in front of him, clearly dismissing her, and Amber rose. “Oh,” he said, and she stopped and turned around. “Of course, there will be a substantial raise.”
To get close to him, she would have worked there for nothing, but in truth, she had been working damn hard and felt she deserved her now-six-figure salary. It didn’t take long for her to anticipate his needs in her new role, and in a very short time, they were working together with the precision of a fine Swiss watch. Amber loved the importance the job gave her, her proximity to the big boss. The admins looked at her with envy, and the executives treated her with respect. No one wanted to be on the wrong side of the person who had the ear of Jackson Parrish. It was a heady experience. She thought of that Lockwood son of a bitch back home and how he’d treated her—as if she were some piece of trash he could throw away.
She jumped when her buzzer sounded late Friday and got up and went to his office. When she approached his desk, she saw what looked like a stack of bills and a large checkbook. “I’m sorry to burden you with this. Battley used to take care of it, and I just don’t have time to look this all over.”
“Did you really just use that word with me? You should know by now that nothing you give me to do is a burden.”
Jackson smiled at her. “Touché. You do it all with pleasure. I should put PA after your name on your business cards. Perfect Assistant.”
“Hmm. Perfect Boss. I guess we’re a team made in heaven.”
“Here’s the test,” he said, with a wry smile.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Bills. They’re all on auto pay, but I want you to go over them, match them to the receipts, and be sure they’re accurate. And of course there are some bills that need to be paid by check. I’ve indicated which those are, so you’ll write a monthly check for those—Sabine and Surrey, school expenses, those kinds of things.”
The Last Mrs. Parrish Page 12