The Last Mrs. Parrish(92)

“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 you 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.”