The Last Mrs. Parrish

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The Last Mrs. Parrish Page 30

by Liv Constantine


  “We’ll have it at the house and invite everyone. It’ll be huge, at least three hundred people. I want them all to meet my gorgeous wife. We’ll announce the impending arrival of our amazing son,” he’d said.

  “Jackson, really. Everyone knows about the baby. The divorce, the pregnancy, our engagement—it’s all been the choicest gossip for the last six months. Besides, I want something small and intimate. Just the two of us.” There was no way she was going to have all the snobs in Bishops Harbor looking at her fat and pregnant, talking behind her back at her wedding and reporting back to Daphne. “We can have a big party later, after the baby’s born.” She laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Besides, then I won’t have this enormous belly and can wear something beautiful. Please?” She wanted to make sure that the first time she appeared in print as Jackson’s wife, she looked the part. She wasn’t worried any longer about being recognized. No one from her Podunk town would make the connection. They would never in a million years imagine that Lana Crump had become the fabulous Amber Parrish. And besides, if anyone came nosing around, she’d have plenty of money to make any pesky problem disappear.

  He had pursed his lips and nodded. “Okay. We’ll do it later. But what about Tallulah and Bella? They should be there.”

  She wasn’t about to let an angry and morose Tallulah and a spoiled Bella take center stage at her wedding. They would ruin everything. Better that they hear about it after the fact, when it was too late for any tears and tantrums that might discourage their father.

  “Yes, you’re right. I wonder, though, do you think it will upset them to see me pregnant? I don’t want them to be sad that it’s not their mother who’s having the baby. I would hate for them to be hurt or feel they’re being replaced. Maybe it’ll be easier once he’s born. He’ll be their brother, and it won’t really matter who the mother is. Let them wait for the big celebration afterward. I think that will be much easier for them.”

  “I don’t know. It might not look right if they’re not there,” he’d said.

  “They’ll have much more fun at the party we throw later.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “I just want them to like me. Accept me as their stepmother. I’ve even discussed it with the pediatrician. She thought it might be too much for them, but said to run it by you.” Amber had made up the pediatrician part, but her eyes were wide with a look of innocence.

  “You have a point. I suppose it’s not really necessary. After all, none of our other family will be there.”

  Amber had smiled at him and taken his hand. “We’ll be one big, happy family. You’ll see. I’m sure they’ll love their little brother.”

  “I can’t wait to meet this little guy.”

  “Soon,” she’d said. “But in the meantime, how would my handsome husband-to-be like a little gratification?” Amber reached over and unbuckled his belt.

  “You turn me on like no one else,” he said and slumped back in his chair. As she got on her knees, she reminded herself that once she was Mrs. Parrish, she wouldn’t have to pretend to enjoy this anymore.

  * * *

  Amber rose early the next morning. She had told Jackson that it was bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other the night before they got married, so he’d taken a hotel room at the Plaza while she stayed at the apartment. She didn’t give a crap about those silly superstitions, but she wanted the morning to herself. There were calls she wanted to make, and she didn’t want Jackson around to hear them. She had a light breakfast of yogurt and fruit and checked her e-mails. There were three from Jackson’s new administrative assistant. Amber had taken her time and chosen very carefully from a slew of applicants. She thought her selection perfect—young, attractive, smart, technologically up-to-date, outside-the-box thinker, and, best of all, male. Of course the checkbook would be coming home, too. Only Amber would see what was spent in their household. She would never make the stupid mistakes that Daphne had.

  After a luxurious bath, she dried herself off, spread some exorbitantly expensive body cream all over, and turned sideways to see her belly in the mirror. The huge ball disgusted her. She couldn’t wait for this kid to be born and to get her figure back. She shook her head and, looking away, grabbed one of the terry-cloth robes. She’d gotten one for each of them, monogrammed and plush and expensive. She laughed to herself. Whenever she bought something, she went to the Internet and typed in “most expensive” whatever it was. She was a quick learner.

  Amber and Jackson were meeting at city hall at one o’clock, so she still had plenty of time to get dressed and call for the limo. She reclined on the velvet chaise longue in the bedroom and punched in the telephone number on her mobile.

  “Hello?” It was Daphne.

  “I want to speak to the girls.”

  “I’m not sure they wish to speak with you.” Daphne’s words were clipped and chilly.

  “Listen, you can stand in my way all you want, but it behooves you to cooperate with me, or your little brats will be out of the picture faster than you can say ‘divorce agreement.’”

  Amber heard nothing for a moment, and then the sound of Tallulah’s voice came on. “Hullo?”

  “Tallulah, sweetheart, where’s your sister? Can you put her on the extension?”

  “Hold on, Amber.”

  Tallulah yelled for Bella to pick up the phone and waited a few minutes. “Bella, are you on the phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tallulah, are you still there?” Amber asked.

  “Yes, Amber.”

  “I want to tell you both that I’m very sad you won’t be at the wedding today. I told your father I wanted it to be only family and not a big party. I just wanted the two of you and no one else, but your father thought you were too young to be there.” Amber made a sniffling sound, as if she were crying. “You have to understand that your father is very excited to be having a baby boy, so sometimes he forgets about you two. I want us to be very good friends, and I will make sure that you’re part of our new family. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Tallulah said flatly.

  “Bella, what about you?” Amber pressed.

  “My daddy loves me. He won’t forget me.”

  Amber could picture Bella stamping her imperious little foot.

  “Of course you’re right, Bella. I wouldn’t worry if I were you. By the way, did I tell you that the new baby will have your father’s name? Jackson Marc Parrish Junior?”

  “I hate you,” Bella said and clicked off.

  “I’m sorry, Amber. You know how Bella gets,” Tallulah said.

  “I know, Tallulah. But I’m sure you’ll be able to talk some sense into her, right?”

  “I’ll try,” she said. “Talk to you later.”

  “Bye, sweetheart. The next time we talk, I’ll be your stepmother.”

  Amber hung up, satisfied that she had gotten her message across. Tallulah was a peacekeeper and would present no problems. Some sparkly jewelry and new toys would be enough to eventually bring Bella around. Not that Amber intended for them to be at the house often enough for it to matter.

  She pulled her computer next to her and answered the e-mails that needed attention, then rose to dress. There wasn’t much she could do to look sexy and desirable for Jackson, but apparently the baby belly was enough to induce his euphoria anyway. She squeezed herself into a cream-colored dress and put on the new Ella Gafter pearls Jackson had bought her as a wedding present. She wore no other jewelry except her emerald-cut diamond ring.

  * * *

  When she arrived, Jackson and Douglas, his new assistant, stood waiting for her in front of the building. “You look absolutely beautiful,” Jackson said, taking her hand.

  “I look like a beached whale.”

  “You are an image of loveliness. I don’t want to hear another word.”

  Amber shook her head and turned to Douglas. “Thank you for agreeing to be our witness today.”

  “My pleasure.�
��

  Jackson put his arm around her, and the three of them climbed the stairs to the entrance.

  They waited their turn, and when it was time, they stood in front of an officiant. Before they knew it, he was telling Jackson he could kiss his bride. His bride. Amber tasted the word in her mouth. She savored how delicious it was.

  “Well, I guess I’ll get back to the office. Congratulations,” Douglas said, reaching out and shaking Jackson’s hand.

  As Douglas walked away, Amber leaned against her new husband and felt a thrill of electricity go through her body. A thin platinum band now complemented the diamond on her ring finger. They were finally married. Anytime now was the silent message she sent their unborn son. As they got in the limousine and she sat back against the fine leather, she envisioned the life ahead of her—expensive homes around the world, fantasy trips, nannies and maids at her command, designer clothes and jewelry.

  The stuck-up women in Bishops Harbor would soon enough be bowing before her—that much she was sure of. It only took lots and lots of money and a powerful husband. They’d be falling over themselves to be her friend. Ha. She loved it. Everyone in the club would be clamoring to sit at her table at the annual regatta dinner. She’d had to do a little damage control to make sure that Gregg’s family didn’t do anything to mess that up for her. Once she and Jackson had broken the news to Daphne, Amber had invited Gregg out to meet her for a drink. She figured he’d have an easier time keeping a stiff upper lip if they were out in public. They’d met at the White Whale in Bishops Harbor, a little tavern on the water. She was already seated at a table when he arrived. He walked over and leaned down to kiss her. She turned her face so that he got her cheek. Off balance, he took the seat across from her.

  “Is everything okay?”

  She’d blinked back tears and pointed at the glass of whiskey in front of him. “Take a sip. I ordered it for you.”

  A look of confusion had passed over his face, and he’d taken a long swallow. “You’re scaring me.”

  “There’s no easy way to say it, so I’m going to just come out with it. I’ve fallen in love with someone else.”

  His mouth had dropped open. “What? Who?”

  She’d put a hand over his. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s just—” She’d stopped and brushed a tear from her cheek. “It’s just that we were together every day. Working together day in and day out, and we discovered we’re soul mates.”

  He’d frowned and looked even more puzzled.

  Is he that stupid? She’d suppressed a sigh. “It’s Jackson.”

  “Jackson? Jackson Parrish? But he’s married. And so much older than you. I thought you were in love with me.” His lower lip trembled.

  “I know he’s married. But he wasn’t happy. Sometimes these things happen. You know how it is to work closely with someone and how feelings can develop. I’ve seen the way your assistant looks at you at the office.”

  He’d narrowed his eyes then. “Becky?”

  She’d nodded. “Yes. And she’s quite lovely too. You must have noticed how enamored she is of you.”

  She’d had to stay for another two drinks before she could leave, and he’d told her he understood. She’d begged him not to take his friendship from her, made him believe that she needed him to be there for her in this time of uncertainty and public judgment. And the idiot fell for it. There would be no trouble from him at the club. And Becky should thank Amber. She was about to be promoted from assistant to fiancée.

  Jackson and Amber Parrish would be the new golden couple of Bishops Harbor. And as soon as this baby was born, she’d be sure it would be the last. She was going to have her body back. The glow of happiness and satisfaction surrounding her at that moment could have lit up Manhattan.

  Sixty-Nine

  Daphne knew it would only take one visit to the house that used to be theirs to make the girls never want to go back. Up to now, the visits had taken place in neutral territory. But Amber and Jackson wanted to have them over for the weekend, and she’d finally relented.

  Amber had moved into his social circles seamlessly, and if Daphne had cared more about the women she’d spent the last ten years with, she might have been hurt that they embraced her husband’s new wife so easily. But then again, no one in this town would dare to snub the new Mrs. Jackson Parrish. The one friend who didn’t desert Daphne was Meredith. She had remained a true friend. Daphne wished she could tell Meredith the full truth, but she couldn’t risk it. So she let her think that she was foolish and naive.

  They pulled up to the house and got out of the car.

  “Let me ring the bell,” Bella shouted as the two of them ran up to the front door.

  “Whatever,” Tallulah answered.

  A uniformed man appeared. So they have a butler. She didn’t know why she was surprised.

  He opened the door. “You must be Bella and Tallulah. Mrs. Parrish is expecting you.”

  Hearing Amber called Mrs. Parrish was jarring, but Daphne walked in behind them, nodding at him.

  “Please wait here, and I’ll get madam.”

  Moments later, Amber breezed in, holding her new son.

  Bella looked up at her and asked, “Where’s my daddy?”

  “Bella, don’t you want to meet your little brother, Jackson Junior?” Amber asked as she brought the baby closer.

  Bella stared at the child, a pout on her face. “He’s ugly. He’s all wrinkled.”

  A look of hatred flashed across Amber’s face, and she turned to Daphne. “Why don’t you teach your children some manners?”

  For once, Daphne was grateful for Bella’s bluntness. She gave Amber a cool look and put a hand on Bella’s shoulder. “Darling, don’t be rude.”

  “Maybe your father forgot you were coming,” Amber said. “He’s buying toys for baby Jackson. He loves him so much. Do you want me to call and remind him?”

  Tallulah looked up at Daphne in horror. Daphne wanted to kill Amber right then and there.

  “Maybe we should reschedule the visit—” Daphne started, but Bella stomped her foot and interrupted her.

  “No! We haven’t seen Daddy in weeks.”

  “Of course you should stay,” Amber said. She turned to her butler. “Edgar, would you take Bella and Tallulah to the drawing room where they can wait for Mr. Parrish? I have things to do.”

  “Please stay until Daddy comes,” Tallulah whispered to her mother.

  Daphne squeezed Tallulah’s hand and whispered, “Of course I will.”

  “Amber.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll wait with the girls. How long do you think he’ll be?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re so overprotective. Suit yourself. I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

  Daphne took both of the girls’ hands in hers, and they followed Edgar to the “drawing room,” where an enormous portrait of Amber, pregnant and naked, was perched on the wall above the marble fireplace. One hand covered her breasts, and the other rested on her pregnant belly. The entire room showcased photos from their wedding, and Daphne realized that Amber wanted them to see it. She’d orchestrated Jackson’s being gone, knowing that Daphne wouldn’t leave the girls until he returned.

  “I hate her,” Tallulah announced.

  “Come here.” She pulled Tallulah into her arms and whispered, “I know she’s horrible. Try to ignore her and just enjoy your father.”

  “Girls!” They looked up to see Jackson come in, and they both ran into his arms.

  “I guess that’s my cue.” Daphne stood. “I’ll be back on Sunday to pick them up.”

  Jackson wouldn’t even look in her direction, and she watched as the three of them left the room.

  She went back to the foyer, and as her hand reached for the doorknob, Amber’s voice rang out.

  “Bye, Daph. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of your little brats.”

  Daphne swung around, glaring at her. “You harm one hair on their heads, and I’ll kill you
.”

  She laughed. “You’re so dramatic. They’ll be fine. Just don’t be late picking them up. I have naughty plans for my husband. He can’t get enough of me.”

  “Enjoy it while you can.”

  Her face darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Daphne smiled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Seventy

  Daphne was about to play her trump card. They had been divorced for two months now, and Daphne had already put the millions she walked away with to good use. She had gotten custody of the girls, and Jackson had weekend visitation rights. She was here to change that.

  She walked up to Jackson’s assistant’s desk.

  “Good morning, Douglas. Is he alone?”

  “Yes, but is he expecting you?”

  “No, but I’ll only take a moment. Promise.”

  “Okay.”

  She walked into Jackson’s office.

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

  “Good morning to you too. I have a bit of news that you’ll find most interesting,” she told him as she shut the door and handed him a file.

  “What the hell is this?” His face turned white as he scanned the contents. “This can’t be right. I’ve seen her passport.”

  “Amber is a missing person. Your wife, Lana, is using her identity. How does it feel to be the one on the other side? She’s nothing but a common con artist.” She laughed. “Makes you wonder if she really wants you or just your money.”

  The vein in his temple was pulsating so hard she thought it might break through the skin.

  “I don’t understand,” he sputtered, continuing to look the article over.

  “It’s quite simple. Amber—I mean Lana—targeted you. She insinuated herself into my life with the express purpose of landing a rich husband. Of course, once I was onto her, she became my golden ticket out.”

 

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