The Last Mrs. Parrish(45)

She suspected that Jackson was a snob at heart and didn’t consider her worthy of him socially. She didn’t hold it against him; she’d feel the same in his position. But she also noticed the way his body stayed a little closer to her when they were reviewing a document, the way his eyes held hers just a moment longer than necessary. And when he saw her with Gregg, she hoped the seeds of jealousy would take root and hasten the seduction.

She took her time getting dressed and dabbed on the perfume that Daphne was now allergic to. Maybe it would make her eyes water, Amber thought spitefully. The dress was just low-cut enough to show off her cleavage, but not so low as to be slutty. She wore five-inch heels, wanting to be taller than Daphne for a change since Daphne had hurt her ankle playing tennis and was stuck in sensible shoes until it healed.

Gregg picked her up right on time, and she ran down the stairs to his waiting Mercedes convertible. She loved slipping into the luxurious car and being seen in it as they drove around. Sometimes he let Amber drive it, and she loved the feel of this singularly superior vehicle. Gregg loved pampering her, and she milked it for all it was worth.

She got in, admiring the saddle leather, and leaned in close to kiss him. He was a good kisser at least, and when she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was Jackson’s tongue in her mouth.

“Mmm, you’re delicious,” she said, sliding back over. “But we’d better get going. Don’t want to keep Daphne and Jackson waiting.”

Gregg took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d much rather sit here kissing you.”

Even his lines were dull. She feigned desire. “Me too, but you promised you’d take it slow. I told you how hurt I was in my last relationship. I’m not ready yet.” She gave him a pretty pout.

He took off, and they made small talk on the way to the club. They pulled through the gates right behind Jackson’s Porsche Spyder.

“Park next to them, and we can walk in together.”

She wanted Jackson to see her walking next to Daphne.

Daphne and she got out of their cars at the same time, and Amber walked over to give her a kiss, noticing that Daphne was carrying the new Hermès purse.

“Good timing!” Daphne smiled and gave her arm a squeeze.

“Love your bag,” Amber said, trying to make herself sound sincere.

“Oh, thanks.” She shrugged. “Just a little gift from Jackson.” She looked over at him and smiled. “He’s so good to me.”

“Lucky lady,” Amber said, wanting to spit.

The four of them walked in together, and Amber had to struggle to keep her eyes off Jackson and on Gregg.

After they’d been seated and gotten their drinks, Gregg lifted his glass. “Cheers. So glad we were finally able to get together.” He put his arm around Amber. “I can’t thank you enough for introducing me to this gem.”

Amber leaned over next to Gregg and kissed him. When she sat back up, she tried to gauge Jackson’s reaction, but his expression was unchanged.

“We’re glad it worked out. I had a feeling you two would be perfect for each other,” Daphne answered.

Amber snuck a glance at Jackson. He was frowning. Good. Licking her lips, she raised her glass of wine and took a long swallow, then looked at Gregg.

“You were right; this is a better choice than the house cabernet. I wish I knew as much about wines as you.”

“I’ll teach you,” he answered with a smile.

“Actually,” Jackson said, “the 1987 vintage was better.” He gave Gregg an apologetic look. “Sorry, old chap, but I’m something of a sommelier. I’ll order a bottle, and you’ll taste the difference.”

“No worries. That’s the year I was born, so it was a good year,” Gregg answered, perfectly seriously.

Amber had to struggle to keep from laughing. Gregg had put Jackson in his place even though he was too thick to realize it. But of course Jackson picked up on it right away. No matter how much more money or smarts Jackson had, he couldn’t make himself fifteen years younger.

“Obviously age is what makes a wine so much more desirable. The older the better,” Amber said, slowly moving her tongue along her lips and looking at Jackson.





Twenty-Eight




Amber was about to get a new glimpse into the Parrishes’ life. When she did the bills, she had seen that they rented a house on Lake Winnipesaukee from Memorial Day to Labor Day, although they probably used it less than an accumulated four weeks. Amber was curious to see what kind of place warranted such an exorbitant rental fee, and today she would. She was waiting for Daphne to pick her up for a weekend at the lake house in New Hampshire. Jackson was on another of his many business trips abroad.

At 8:30 sharp, the white Range Rover pulled up. Daphne jumped out of the car and opened the back hatch for Amber’s luggage.

“Good morning.” Daphne hugged her and then took the bag from her. “So glad you’re coming with us.”

“Me too.”

It was a four-and-a-half-hour drive to Wolfeboro, but it seemed to go quickly with the girls sleepy and quiet in the back as Amber and Daphne chatted up front.

“How are things at the office? Are you still liking it now with all the responsibilities?”

“I really love it. Jackson’s a great boss.” She looked at Daphne. “But you must know that.”