The Last Mrs. Parrish

by Liv Constantine

  “Daddy?”

  Tallulah was standing in the doorway. She looked at me, worry in her eyes.

  “Come give Daddy a hug. I was just telling your mommy she has to stop stuffing her face. You don’t want a fat mommy, do you?”

  “Mommy’s not fat,” she said, her voice cracking.

  He looked at me and scowled. “You stupid sow. Tell your daughter that you need to watch what you eat.”

  “Daddy, stop!” Tallulah was crying now.

  He threw his hands up in the air. “The two of you! I’m going to my study. Put the crybaby to bed, and then I want to see you in my office.” Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “If you’re so hungry all the time, I’ll give you something to suck on.”

  Sixty-Two

  Amber reached for the bottle of tanning lotion and squirted some in her hand. After she applied it to her arms and face, she handed it to me. “Would you do my back?”

  I took it from her and caught a whiff of coconut as I rubbed my hands together.

  “Want to go sit on the bench in the pool?” It was sweltering, and I wanted to cool off.

  “Sure.”

  Amber’s bikini was practically pornographic—all she had to do was sit the wrong way and all the goods would be on display. I was glad Tallulah and Bella were out for the day with Surrey. It was obvious that she hadn’t missed any time at the gym, although with the hours she was putting in working for Jackson, I didn’t know how she fit it in. I had purposely worn a one-piece that hugged my body and revealed the little pooch my belly was sporting. Jackson would notice it as soon as he looked at me.

  We sat side by side on the built-in seat in the shallow end. The water was a perfect eighty-five degrees and felt wonderful. I looked out at the vast stretch of blue and the beach beyond, relaxing as I took a deep breath of salt air.

  Jackson came outside for his daily swim.

  “Hi, girls, I hope you put some sunscreen on. Hottest time of the day.”

  I smiled. “I have, but Amber here is covered in tanning oil.”

  She sat up straighter, sticking out her chest for full effect. “I like to tan.”

  “That’s because you’re too young to know the sun gives you wrinkles,” I said.

  Jackson walked to the diving board and surprised me by turning around and executing a perfect back dive into the pool. Was he showing off? When he broke the water’s surface, Amber clapped.

  “Bravo! Well done.”

  He swam to the side of the pool, pushed himself up and out and gave a little bow.

  “It was nothing.”

  “Come join us for a minute,” I said.

  He grabbed a towel from the outdoor armoire behind the bar and sat on one of the cushioned seats across from us.

  “I’ve got a little work to do before the party.”

  “Anything I can help with?” Amber asked.

  Jackson smiled. “No, no. It’s your day off. Don’t be silly. Besides, Daphne would kill me if I put you to work.”

  “That’s right. You’re a guest today.”

  “I’m really hot, just going to get all the way wet.” She pushed off the bench and slipped underwater. My eyes were on Jackson, who was watching Amber as she swam to the steps and climbed out, giving him a front-row seat to her wet body and see-through suit.

  “That felt great,” she said, looking straight at him. She was getting quite brazen.

  “Well, I’ve got to get to it,” Jackson said as he walked back to the house.

  Amber came back to where I was and took a seat once again. “Thanks again for inviting me over today. This is such a treat.” Did she think I was an idiot? “What time is everyone coming again?”

  “Around six. We can relax for a couple of hours and then go shower and change. I’ve asked Angela to come by at three to do our hair.” I had more planned for the afternoon, intending to let her see every little benefit Jackson’s money provided.

  “How wonderful. Does she always do your hair?”

  “Only when we entertain or I’m going somewhere special. We have her on retainer, so she pretty much drops whatever else she has if I need her.” What I now recognized as a look of resentment flashed in her eyes, but she quickly recovered.

  “Wow.”

  “Of course, I try to give her notice. Don’t want to intentionally mess up someone else’s plans.”

  “Is it fancy tonight?”

  I stretched my legs out in front of me. “Not really. Three other couples from the club and Gregg, the guy I want you to meet.”

  “Tell me more about him.”

  “He’s in his late twenties, reddish-blond hair, blue eyes. Your typical good-looking preppy.” I laughed.

  “What does he do?”

  “His father owns Carvington Accounting. He works in the family business. They have gobs of money.”

  Now I had her attention. “I’m not sure he’ll be interested in me. He’s probably used to debutantes and girls from important families.”

  This pitiful act was beginning to tire me. I looked up to see the two masseuses walk out to the tile patio. “I have a surprise for you.”

  “What?”

  “We’re each getting a nice, long massage.”

  “Don’t tell me they’re on retainer too?” Amber asked.

  “No. They’re part-time. Jackson and I couldn’t survive without at least two massages a week.” It wasn’t true, but I wanted her green with envy.

  The afternoon passed in a pleasant haze. After the hour-long massage, I soaked in the tub while Amber’s hair was done; then she sat and talked to me while Angela did mine. By three thirty, we had drinks in hand and sat in the sunroom overlooking the Sound. In a few hours, phase two of my plan would begin.

  * * *

  By six o’clock, we were having drinks on the veranda, and Gregg, as I had anticipated, was falling all over Amber. I couldn’t help but compare the girl who had come to that first committee meeting with the poised and self-assured young woman standing there. No one meeting her for the first time would have a clue that she was out of place. Everything about her telegraphed money and refinement. Even her dress, a Marc Jacobs shift, was worlds away from the L.L.Bean separates she used to wear.

  I walked over to her and Gregg. “I see you’ve met our Amber.”

  He gave me a broad smile. “Where’ve you been hiding her? I haven’t seen her at the club.” He gave her a knowing look. “I would have remembered.”

  “I don’t belong,” she said.

  “Then you’ll just have to come as my guest.” He looked at her empty glass. “Can I get you a refill?”

  She put a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Gregg. You’re such a gentleman. I’ll walk over with you.”

  Gregg’s hand rested on the small of her back as they made their way to the bar, and I looked up to see that Jackson was watching them. There was a proprietary look in his eyes, one that said, You’re pissing on my lawn. It was working.

  I walked over to him.

  “Looks like Amber and Gregg are clicking.” I could see that she was playing him, but all Jackson could see were the pheromones jumping off Gregg.

  “She can do better than that idiot.”

  “He’s not an idiot. He’s a nice young man. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her all night.”

  Jackson drank the rest of his bourbon in one swallow. “He’s as dull as a stone.”

  By the time we were seated for dinner, Gregg was thoroughly infatuated. Amber already had him wrapped around her finger. All she had to do was look thirsty, and he was waving the server over to get her another drink. The other women didn’t miss it either.

  Jenka, a brunette beauty married to one of Jackson’s golf buddies, leaned over to me and whispered, “Doesn’t it make you nervous? A girl like that right outside his office every day? I know he loves you, but he is a man, after all.”

  I laughed. “I trust Jackson implicitly, and Amber’s a good friend.”

  She looked dubious. “If yo
u say so. There’s no way I’d let Warren hire somebody who looked like that to be his assistant.”

  “You’re too suspicious, darling. I’ve nothing to worry about.”

  Gregg was the last to leave. He gave Amber a chaste kiss on her cheek. “See you Sunday. Pick you up at noon.”

  When he’d gone, I turned to her. “Sunday?”

  “He’s invited me to have lunch with him at the club and then see Cat on a Hot Tin Roof at the Playhouse.”

  “How lovely. Well, I’m exhausted. Shall we go to bed?”

  She nodded.

  I gave her the guest room across the hall from us. I wanted Jackson to know she was close by.

  He was in bed when I came into the bedroom.

  “Nice evening, right?” I said.

  “Except for that moron, Gregg. I don’t know why you invited him in the first place,” Jackson grumbled.

  “It would have been awkward for Amber not to have a companion. He’s nice enough. Just drinks a little too much.”

  “A little too much? The guy’s a drunk. I detest people who can’t control themselves.”

  I slid under the covers. “Amber has a date with him on Sunday.”

  “She’s too smart for him.”

  “Well, she seems to like him.” Good. He was jealous.

  “If he didn’t have a rich father, he’d be living in a studio apartment over someone’s garage.”

  “Jackson, I need to ask you something.”

  He sat up and turned the light back on. “What?”

  “You know how much I miss Julie. Amber’s the closest thing to a sister I’ll ever have. Your interest in her seems more than just professional.”

  His voice rose. “Now just a minute. Since when have I ever given you a reason to be jealous?”

  I put a gentle hand on his arm. “Don’t be mad. I’m not accusing you of anything. But I see how she looks at you. She adores you. And who can blame her?” Did I sound convincing? “I just don’t want anything to happen between you. Anyone can slip. Amber is my only true friend. If you should find yourself attracted to her, please don’t give in to it. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not interested in other women.”

  But I knew that look. The determination in his eyes. No one told Jackson Parrish what he could and couldn’t have.

  Sixty-Three

  Duplicity suited me. All the years of living with Jackson had taught me a thing or two. It was hard at times, knowing that Amber believed herself so clever and me so stupid, but it would be worth it in the end. It had been tortuous that weekend she was at the lake house with the girls and me. I hated going to that house, period. My mother was really only an hour away, and he wouldn’t let me invite her. He chose it specifically for that purpose—to make my mother believe that I was so self-absorbed that I didn’t think to include her. She had too much pride to ever ask to come. But inviting Amber to the lake had been necessary for moving my plan along. That was the weekend I gave her the vital tidbit that I hoped she would pounce upon—the fact that Jackson desperately wanted a son, and I couldn’t give him one. I also gave her a key to the New York apartment, knowing it wouldn’t be long before she found an excuse to use it.

  When I got her text Friday morning asking if it was okay to use the New York apartment for the weekend, I came up with a plan. Jackson had been working from the lake house all week, making life miserable for the girls and me. He didn’t believe in letting schedules slide, even on vacation. When he wasn’t there, we’d lounge by the lake all day, eat when we wanted, stay up late and watch movies. But when he was around, it was lunch at noon, dinner at seven, girls in bed by eight. No junk food, only organic and healthy. I’d have to hide the books on my nightstand and replace them with his selection of the week.

  That week, though, I did little things to irritate him. I came in from swimming with smeared makeup under my eyes, left my hair a mess, left crumbs on the counter. By Friday, I could tell he was reaching the breaking point. We’d just finished lunch, and I’d made sure that a piece of spinach was lodged between my front teeth.

  He looked at me with disgust. “You’re a pig. You have a big green thing in your teeth.”

  I pulled my lips back and leaned close to him. “Where?”

  “Ugh. Go look in a mirror.” He shook his head.

  As I got up, I purposely bumped my hip into the table, and my plate went clanging to the floor.

  “Look where you’re going!” His eyes traveled up and down my body. “Have you put on weight?”

  I had actually—ten pounds. I shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s no scale here.”

  “I’ll bring one next week. For the love of . . . What the hell do you do when I’m not here? Stuff yourself with junk?”

  I picked up the plate and walked to the sink, deliberately leaving a piece of cucumber on the floor.

  “Daphne!” He pointed.

  “Oops, sorry.”

  I ran the dish under the water and put it in the dishwasher—facing the wrong way.

  “Oh, Jackson. The Lanes are coming over for dinner tonight.” I knew that would be the final straw. Our neighbors at the lake lived in Woodstock the rest of the year, and their politics were to the left of Marx. Jackson couldn’t bear to be in the same room as them.

  “Are you serious?” He came up behind me, grabbed my shoulders, and turned me around. His face was inches from mine. “I’ve been very patient with you this week, put up with your slovenly appearance, your ineptitude around the house. This is too much.”

  I looked at the floor. “Stupid me! I thought this was a week you’d be away. I got the dates confused. I’m so sorry.”

  He sighed loudly. “In that case, it will be. I’m heading home today.”

  “I’ve arranged to have all the carpets cleaned over the weekend. You really shouldn’t be there, with all the chemicals.”

  “Shit. I’ll go to the apartment then. I should go into the office anyhow. Thanks for screwing everything up once again.”

  He stormed off to the bedroom to pack.

  I would text Amber in the morning with the text I’d “meant” to send today—informing her that Jackson was coming to the apartment, and she couldn’t use it after all. I’d tell her that I’d forgotten to hit send, and hoped that she hadn’t been startled when Jackson showed up.

  Walking into the bedroom, I tossed Ulysses to the floor and replaced it with the latest Jack Reacher. I stretched out on the bed and took a deep breath. We’d have pizza for dinner. The Lanes were enjoying the concert they were attending; they’d told me about it when they were over for dinner the week before.

  * * *

  Hours later, my phone rang.

  “What the hell are you up to?” Jackson said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Amber’s here. What kind of game are you playing, Daphne?”

  I feigned surprise. “I texted her and told her you were using the apartment. Wait. Let me look at my phone.” I waited a few seconds. “I’m such an idiot. I never hit send. I’m so sorry.”

  He cursed. “You are intent on ruining my weekend. I just want some peace and quiet. I don’t feel like making small talk with the help.”

  “Tell her to leave, then. Do you want me to call her?”

  He sighed. “No, I’ll handle it. Thanks for nothing!”

  I hit send and typed another message to Amber. Sorry. Meant to let you know Jackson was headed to the apartment. May want to stay out of his way. He’s not in the best mood, thanks to me.

  That should be enough to have her lending him a sympathetic ear. After that, it would just be a hop, skip, and a jump before they were in bed together.

  Sixty-Four

  He’s got it bad. Amber must be really good. Most nights he claimed to be working too late to come all the way home, so he decided to stay at the apartment. Just to test my theory after the third night in a row, I offered to come in and keep him company, but he demurred, saying he wo
uld be at the office until all hours. It was also apparent in Amber’s demeanor. She thought she was so clever and that I couldn’t tell, but I noticed the looks that passed between the two of them when she was at the house, and the way she was beginning to finish his sentences.

  During our trip to London, her perfume lingered on his clothes and in his hair every time he came back from a meeting. Apparently the infidelity turned him on, because he wanted sex even more than usual. I never knew when he would grab me. The sex was different too—faster and rougher, like a dog staking his claim. I pretended to Amber that he hadn’t touched me in weeks. I needed her to believe he had eyes only for her—except for the one time I let my pride get the better of me and told her that we’d just slept together. The look of shock and anger on her face was delicious. I was worried, though, that it might be only a matter of time before he would tire of her and return to me, more obsessed than ever. My only hope was for Amber to elicit in him the same feelings I had evoked when we first met. He had to become focused on possessing her. She was already doing her part—trying to make herself into a younger version of me. I’d noticed her copying my perfume, wearing her hair the same as mine; she’d even copied my lipstick color. And I continued to feed her the ammunition. But would it be enough? What was taking her so long to get pregnant? Of course, unless it was a boy, it would do no good. We’d been down that road before. He had no use for another daughter.

  I made myself look even more pitiful to him. I wanted him to see Amber as my perfect replacement. I wore long underwear under my clothes so I would sweat and blamed it on hot flashes. I started dropping hints that I was going through early menopause, so he would know that if he stayed with me, his dream of a son would go unfulfilled. I was placing all my hope on her getting pregnant with a boy. But if that didn’t work, I was hoping she was clever enough to find another way to hook him.

  The night he came back from Paris, he was in a good mood. She had told me she was taking a few days off to go visit a friend so I wouldn’t be suspicious. But I’d known she was with him, had seen the lingerie he tucked into his suitcase at the last minute.