The Last Mrs. Parrish(94)

*

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 would 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.

I was almost asleep when he walked into the bedroom and turned on a bedside lamp.

“You weren’t sleeping, were you?” He came around to my side of the bed and stood looking down at me.

“I was.”

“I’m hurt. I thought you’d be waiting up for me. You know how I miss you when I’m gone.”

My eye started twitching. I gave him a tight smile. “Of course I missed you. But I thought you’d be tired anyway.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Never too tired for you. I brought you a present.”

I sat up and waited.

It was the red and black corset I’d seen in his suitcase. I took it from him, and the smell of Incomparable wafted over me. The sick bastard wanted me to wear this after she had.

“Here are the stockings that go with it. Get up and put them on.”

“Why don’t you let me pick something out and surprise you?” I didn’t want them touching my skin after they’d been on her body.

He threw the corset at me. “Now!” He grabbed my hand and pulled me from the bed. “Arms.”

I lifted my arms, and he pulled off my nightgown so that I was standing there in only my panties.

“You’re getting fat.” He pinched the flesh on my waist and made a face. “I’m going to have to buy you a girdle soon. Don’t make any plans for the rest of the week. You’ll be spending it with the trainer every day. We have dinner at the club on Thursday, and I’ve bought you a new dress. It had better fit.” He shook his head. “Lazy bitch. Now put on the outfit your nice husband went to all the trouble of buying for you.”

I pulled the stiff fabric up over my hips and stomach. It was tight, but I managed to make it fit. My face was hot with shame, and I had to look up at the ceiling to keep from crying. When I had fastened the stockings, he made me do a pirouette for him.