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The Last Mrs. Parrish

Page 15

by Liv Constantine


  He looked surprised. “Amber. What are you doing here?”

  She pulled the robe tighter around herself. “I, uh, I . . . Daphne gave me a key and said I could use it if I was too tired to get the train. She said she told you. I figured with all of you at the lake, it would be empty. I’m sorry. I had no idea you were coming.” She blushed.

  He dropped his briefcase and shook his head. “It’s fine. I should have let you know.”

  “I thought you were staying at the lake until Sunday night.”

  “It’s a long story. Let’s just say I’ve had better weeks.”

  “Well, I’ll go and get my things and get out of your way.” She hated to go, but figured he’d expect her to offer.

  He shook his head and moved past her toward the bedroom. “It’s late, you should feel free to stay till morning. I’m going to go change.”

  She heard him on the phone, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. He stayed in the bedroom for close to an hour, and Amber wondered if he was ever going to come out. She debated changing from the robe into some clothes, but decided against it. She had a good feeling about tonight. She sat back down with her glass of wine and a magazine, waiting for him.

  He finally came out, got a drink, and sat down on the other end of the sofa. He seemed to register what she was wearing for the first time. “That robe looks nice on you. A little tight for Daphne lately.”

  “She’s gained a little weight. It happens to the best of us,” Amber said, choosing her words carefully.

  “She’s not been herself lately.”

  “I’ve noticed that too. Whenever we’re together, she seems distracted, like something’s on her mind.”

  “Has she said anything to you? About being unhappy or anything?”

  “I really wouldn’t want to repeat anything she’s said to me, Jackson.”

  He sat up straight. “So she has said something to you.”

  “Please, if she’s not happy, that’s something you and Daphne need to discuss.”

  “She told you she’s not happy?”

  “Well, not in so many words. I don’t know. I don’t want to betray a confidence.”

  He took a long swallow from his glass. “Amber, if there’s something I should know, something that can help, then tell me. Please.”

  “I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say.”

  “Tell me.”

  She let out a sigh and allowed the robe to fall open just enough to show a teasing bit of cleavage. “Daphne told me the sex is boring and routine. And that she’s thrilled every month when she gets her period and knows she’s not pregnant.” She pretended to look nervous. “But please don’t tell her I told you. She told me how much you want a boy, and she might not want you to know she doesn’t feel the same way.”

  He was speechless.

  “I’m sorry, Jackson. I didn’t want to tell you, but you’re right: you have a right to know how she feels. Just . . . please . . . don’t say anything to Daphne.”

  He remained silent, his face red and set with a grim expression that Amber saw only rarely. He was furious.

  She rose from the sofa and walked toward him. She made sure her robe opened slightly against her leg as she approached him. She stood in front of him and put her hand on his cheek. “Whatever is going on, I’m sure it will pass. How could anyone be unhappy with you, Jackson?”

  He took her hand from his face and held it. Amber ran her other hand through his hair and he moaned, but then slowly pushed her away. “Forgive me, Amber. I’m not myself.”

  She sat next to him. “I understand. It’s hard when you discover someone you love doesn’t want the same thing you do.”

  He gazed steadily at her. “Did she really say those things? That she was happy every time she knew she wasn’t pregnant?”

  “She did. I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t believe it. We’ve talked about how wonderful it would be. I just can’t believe it.” He put his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

  Amber caressed his back. “Please don’t tell Daphne I told you. She made me promise to keep her secret.” She thought for a moment and then decided to go all the way. “You know,” she said sadly, “she was kind of laughing about it, about how she fooled you and you never even realized.” She prayed the lie wouldn’t blow up in her face, but she needed to move this game forward.

  When Jackson looked up at her, his eyes were filled with confusion and pain. “She laughed about it? How could she?”

  She put her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her. “I don’t understand it either. Let me help you,” she said, kissing his cheek.

  He pushed her away again. “Amber, no. This is wrong.”

  “Wrong? And what she’s done is right? Betraying you? Laughing at you?” Amber rose and stood before him once again. “Let me make you feel good. It doesn’t have to change anything.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t think right now.”

  “I’m here for you. That’s all you have to think about.” She slowly untied the sash of her robe and let it fall from her shoulders, standing before him in only the lace panties. He looked up at her, and she pulled his head toward her until it was buried against her belly. She pushed him back so she could straddle his lap, and once she had, she put her mouth against his ear and whispered how much she wanted him as she moved her hips and ground against him.

  She found his lips and thrust her tongue deep inside his mouth. She felt his resistance weaken as he pulled her closer to him and returned her kiss.

  Their lovemaking was fierce and powerful. They barely let go of each other when they moved into the bedroom in the middle of the night. Finally, at dawn, they fell into a deep and satisfying slumber.

  Amber awoke first. She turned on her side and looked at Jackson, sleeping next to her. He had been an expert lover, an added bonus and one she hadn’t expected. She was so used to planning every move that it now seemed impossible that their being alone together in the apartment had happened so serendipitously. She closed her eyes and lay back against the pillow. Jackson stirred beside her, and then she felt his hand gliding up her thigh.

  They stayed in bed until after twelve, dozing off and on. Amber was still half asleep when Jackson got up to shower and dress. He was in the kitchen making coffee when she came out, now in a long white T-shirt of Daphne’s.

  “Good morning, Superman.” She moved toward him, but he backed away.

  “Listen, Amber. This can’t happen again. I’m sorry. I love Daphne. I would never want to hurt her. You understand, don’t you?”

  Amber felt as if she’d been struck. She took a moment to think things through, to alter her game plan. There was no way she was going to let him cast her aside. “Of course I understand, Jackson. Daphne’s my best friend, and the last thing I would ever want is for her to be hurt. But don’t beat yourself up. You’re a man, and you have needs. There’s no reason for you to be ashamed of that. I’m here for you whenever you want. Just between us. Daphne doesn’t need to know.”

  Jackson looked at her. “That’s hardly fair to you.”

  “I would do anything for you, so hear me again: Whenever you want. No questions asked, no strings attached, and no spilling secrets.” She put her arms around his neck and felt his close around her.

  “You’re making it impossible for me to resist you,” he whispered, his lips against her ear.

  She pulled slightly away and looked up into his eyes as her hand moved below his waist to caress him.

  “Ah.” He put his head back and closed his eyes in pleasure.

  “Why would you try to resist me?” Her voice was silky. “I told you. I’m here for you. Come to me for whatever you need. Our little secret.”

  Thirty

  Amber clutched a silky pillow to her, closing her eyes to get a few more minutes of sleep. She and Jackson had been sleeping together for over two months now, and they had stayed up all night making love. She was drifting off again
when she felt him shaking her arm.

  “You’ve got to get up. I forgot! Matilda’s here to clean.”

  Her eyes flew open. “What should I do?”

  “Get dressed! Go in the guest room and make it look like you stayed there last night. We’ll have to make something up for Daphne.”

  Annoyed, she threw on the robe at the foot of the bed and ran down the hallway to the guest room. Would it be so terrible if Daphne found out? Yes, it was too soon. She had to make sure he was firmly in her grasp before anything happened to jeopardize her position. Outside of his office she was the consummate professional, but inside, with the door shut, she used every trick at her disposal to make sure he couldn’t get enough of her. It got a little tiresome—especially his affinity for blow jobs—but she could retire her services after she had a ring on her finger. And afterward, she demanded nothing and went about the day as if they had nothing more than a professional relationship. They usually stayed together at the apartment a few nights a week. She loved that the best. Waking up next to him, in that fabulous apartment, as if it was all hers. Now she made sure to schedule late appointments and dinners for him so he’d be more inclined to spend the night, and she always had an overnight bag at the ready.

  * * *

  It was becoming harder and harder to play the part of Daphne’s best friend. She hated having to pretend that she was nothing more than Jackson’s assistant; that she didn’t know every inch of his body probably better than his own wife did. For now, though, she had to play it cool. But when Daphne phoned to send her on an errand, she was livid.

  “Amber, dear. Can you do me a big favor?” Daphne had asked.

  “What is it, Daphne?”

  “Bella has a party to go to and needs an accessory for one of her American Girl dolls. I just can’t get into the city in time. Would you mind picking it up for me and bringing it to the house?”

  She damn well did mind. She wasn’t Daphne’s servant. Amber had planned to stay overnight at the apartment, but now she had to change her plans.

  “Certainly, Daphne, what is it?” she said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

  “She wants the Pretty City Carriage. They’re going to pretend they’re in Central Park. I’ve called and charged it already. They’re holding it in your name.”

  Amber was still fuming when her train got in to Bishops Harbor just before six. She took a cab right to their house and wondered if Jackson had returned from his business trip yet.

  When she arrived, Daphne was in the kitchen with the girls, and Jackson was nowhere in sight.

  “Ah, you’re a doll. Thank you!” Daphne gushed. Tilting her head toward Bella, she went on, “I would have had a major meltdown on my hands if you hadn’t come through.”

  Amber forced a smile. “Can’t have that.”

  “Drink?” Daphne held up a bottle of red wine, half empty. It was a little early for her, Amber thought.

  “Just one. I have a date with Gregg tonight,” she lied. She didn’t want to get stuck here all night. “I see you’ve gotten a head start.”

  Daphne shrugged and poured a glass for Amber. “TGIF.”

  Amber accepted the glass and took a sip. “Thanks. Where’s Jackson?”

  Daphne rolled her eyes. “In his office, where else?” She lowered her voice so the girls wouldn’t hear and stood closer to Amber. “Honestly, he’s been gone all week, and the first thing he does when he gets home is complain that Bella left her shoes in the hall.” She shook her head. “Sometimes it’s easier when he’s away.”

  Don’t worry, honey, Amber wanted to tell her. You won’t have to put up with it for long. She put on her concerned face instead. “You’re ruining my fantasy of marriage.” She laughed.

  “It’s okay. After he cooled down, he and I had a little afternoon delight. It was the first time in a while.” She put her hand up to her mouth. “I can’t believe I just told you that! Enough about me, tell me more about what’s going on with Gregg.” She linked her arm in Amber’s, and they went into the sunroom, Daphne calling over her shoulder, “Sabine, please give the girls their baths when they’ve finished eating.”

  “I need to use the restroom,” Amber said as she hurried past her. She went in and slammed the door, her back against it. Was he getting tired of her already? Daphne’s smug expression infuriated her. It began as a tingling in her fingers, and then she was digging her fingernails into her hands to stop from screaming. She was a furnace, ready to explode, adrenaline pumping through her so fast that she couldn’t catch her breath. She wanted to break something. Her eyes went to the delicate green glass turtle on the shelf in front of her. She picked it up and threw it on the floor and stomped on it with both feet, grinding the pieces into the carpet. She hoped Daphne cut her feet on them. She flung the door open and headed back to the sunroom. This is what happened when he got out of her sight for too long. She would have to do something about it, and fast.

  Daphne patted the seat next to her when Amber walked in. “So, spill. How’s it going with Gregg?”

  As far as Gregg was concerned, she saw him just enough to keep Daphne’s suspicions at bay. She’d go to dinner with him, usually on a Friday or Saturday night, or she’d play the occasional tennis game at the club with him. He believed her story that she needed more time to get over the abusive ex-boyfriend she’d invented—the one that no one else but he “knew” about.

  “He’s very sweet and attentive. I don’t see him as much as I’d like because of work.” She put her hand up. “Not that I’m complaining. I appreciate my job, believe me.”

  Daphne smiled. “I know that. Don’t worry. The boss’s wife won’t say anything.”

  Amber was inwardly seething. “I don’t think of you as the boss’s wife.”

  Daphne raised an eyebrow.

  Amber reached out and squeezed her hand. “What I mean is, I think of you as my best friend. If I do ever get married, I’d want you to be my matron of honor.”

  “Aw. You’re sweet. I’m probably a little old for that, though?”

  Amber shook her head. “Of course not. Forty isn’t old.”

  “Excuse me! I’m thirty-eight. Don’t push me over the hill yet.”

  She knew exactly how old Daphne was. But really, thirty-eight, forty—what did it matter? Amber was twenty-six. There was no competing with that. “Sorry, Daph. I’m awful with ages. You look young, anyway.”

  “Oh, before I forget, I’ve got some clothes I’m getting rid of but thought I’d see if you want any of them first,” Daphne said.

  Amber didn’t need her castoffs. She had a whole new wardrobe of her own, thanks to Jackson. But she couldn’t show her hand—not yet.

  “That’s so nice. I’d love to look at them. Why don’t you want them anymore? Do they not fit?” She couldn’t resist.

  The color rose in Daphne’s cheeks. “Excuse me?”

  Amber looked at the floor. How was she going to get out of this one? Before she could say anything else, Daphne spoke again.

  “I have gained weight. I can’t seem to stop snacking. I eat when I’m stressed, and I’m worried about Jackson. He’s acting strange, and I don’t understand it.” She sighed loudly.

  “Oh, Daph. I wasn’t sure if I should tell you, but he has been spending lots of time with one of his vice presidents. She’s a new hire, and her name is Bree. I don’t know if anything’s going on, but they’ve been taking some awfully long lunches . . .” Bree was a knockout who had started there a few weeks ago. Amber had actually been wary of her and ready to do some sabotage until she found out Bree was a lesbian. But Daphne didn’t know that. Bree and Jackson had been working a lot together, but it was perfectly innocent—and now Daphne would start nagging him about her and drive him right back into Amber’s arms.

  Daphne’s hand flew to her mouth. “I know who you mean. She’s gorgeous.”

  Amber bit her lip. “I know. She’s a real snake too. I’ve seen the way she looks at him. She’s always putting a hand on
his arm or crossing her legs and wearing short skirts. She’s rude to me too, suddenly going straight to Jackson to make an appointment like she has special access or something.”

  “What should I do?”

  Amber raised her brows. “I know what I’d do if it were me.”

  “What?”

  “I’d tell him to get rid of her.”

  Daphne shook her head. “I can’t do that. It’s his business. He’ll think I’m crazy.”

  Amber pretended to think. “I know. Go talk to her.”

  “I can’t do that!”

  “Sure you can. You come to the office and very quietly tell her that you’re on to her, and if she values her job she’d better leave your husband alone.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Do you want to lose him?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then, yes, get your tail in there and show her who’s really boss. I’ll make sure to keep him occupied while you do, so he doesn’t find out.”

  Daphne took a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Amber smiled. It was perfect—Daphne would embarrass him at his office, which would make him livid. “I’ll be behind you all the way.”

  Thirty-One

  It was becoming more difficult to keep Gregg out of her bed. Not that she would have minded taking him for a spin—he was a decent enough kisser, and she could tell he was more than willing to please her. But she couldn’t risk it. When she got pregnant, it would be with Jackson’s kid, not Gregg’s. Besides, as soon as her position with Jackson was assured, she’d be kicking Gregg to the curb. All she had to do until then was what she’d learned best in high school. Pushing herself up off her knees, she brushed his stomach with her lips, then kissed him on the lips before going into the bathroom to wash her mouth out. He was still standing there, a dazed look on his face, pants around his ankles.

  He gave her a sheepish look and pulled his trousers up. “Sorry. You’re really out of this world, baby.” He pulled her to him, and she had to resist the urge to squirm out of his arms. “When are you going to be ready to make love? I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

 

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