Page 39 of The Last Mrs. Parrish

“You have a blind spot where she’s concerned.” Meredith walked to the door in a huff and turned around before she left. “Mark my words, Daphne—this will not end well.”

Daphne took Amber’s hand. “Don’t you worry. No one will ever hurt you again.”

“What about Meredith? What if she tells people?”

“You let me worry about Meredith. I’ll make sure she doesn’t breathe a word.”

“Please don’t tell anyone, Daphne. I have to keep pretending I’m Amber. You don’t know how he is. He’ll find me, wherever I am.”

Daphne nodded. “I won’t tell another soul, not even Jackson.”

Amber felt a little guilty for painting her father in such a bad light. After all, he’d worked nonstop at the cleaner’s to support her mother and her three sisters, and he would never have touched any of his daughters. Of course, he’d also made all of them work at that damn store for free, which she was pretty sure was child slave labor, close enough to child abuse. So what if he never touched her? He still took advantage of her.

Suddenly she didn’t feel so guilty anymore. She raised her head from Daphne’s shoulder and looked her in the eye. “I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you. Thank you for always being there for me.”

Daphne smiled and smoothed Amber’s hair. “You’d do the same for me.”

Amber gave her a forlorn smile and nodded.

Daphne started to walk from the room, then turned back. “I’ll tell Bella thatThe Wizard of Ozwill have to wait. I think you deserve to pick tonight.”

Amber smiled a genuine smile—she couldn’t wait to see the look of disappointment on the little princess’s face. “That would really help me get my mind off things.”

Twenty-Four

Growing up, Amber had always hated the Fourth of July. The only good thing about that day was that her father closed the dry cleaner’s. She and her three sisters would watch the parade—the high school marching band that was always screechingly off-key, at least one majorette who would drop her batons, and some plump-faced farm girl who would wave with glee from a hay-filled wagon. It was all so hokey and embarrassing, Amber cringed every time.

But this year was different. Quite different. Amber sat with Daphne on the back deck of the Parrishes’ sixty-five-foot Hatteras as it sped across the Sound. They were spending the entire weekend on the boat, and Amber was over the moon. She’d gone shopping with Daphne and spent more than she had planned, but she wanted to look her absolute best every moment since she’d be near Jackson twenty-four/seven. She bought a new white bikini and then splurged on a one-piece black suit with a long, low V in the front and cutouts on the sides. It was one of the sexiest suits she’d ever seen, and Daphne had nodded her approval when Amber walked out from the dressing room. Her cover-up was sheer, so her body would never be hidden from him. For when they went ashore, she’d gotten white shorts that barely covered her buttocks and tank tops that clung just a bit. She’d brought skinny white pants for evening, a few T-shirts, and a casual navy sweater to throw over her shoulders. She’d even gotten a spray tan. This was her time to shine.

Jackson stood at the controls, his legs tanned and muscular, in a pair of khaki shorts and white golf shirt. He moved with utter confidence and mastery. He turned to where Daphne and Amber sat and called to them over the noise, “Hey, sweetheart, can you get me a beer?”

Daphne reached into the cooler and brought out a can of Gordon Ale, dripping with cold water. She had to admit, Daphne’s black bikini showed off her perfect body to its best advantage. She had hoped Daphne would be wearing something more matronly, but no such luck. Daphne handed it to Amber. “Here, why don’t you give it to him? You can get a lesson on how to handle a boat.”

Amber took the can from Daphne and jumped up. “Sure.... Hey.” She tapped Jackson on the shoulder. “Here’s your beer.”

“Thanks.” He opened it, took a sip, and Amber noticed his long fingers and fine hands, immediately imagining them on her body.

“Daphne said you’d give me a boat-driving lesson,” she said coyly.

“Boat driving. Is that what she called it?” He laughed.

“Well, maybe not. I can’t remember.”

“Here,” he said, moving slightly to the right. “Take the wheel.”

“What? No. What if we crash?”

“You’re cute. What are we going to crash into? You really don’t have to move it much. Just point the end of the bow in the direction you want to go and don’t make any sudden jerking moves.”

She put her hands on the wheel and concentrated on the water, her nerves subsiding a bit as she got the feel of it.

“Good,” he said. “Steady as you go.”

“This is fun,” she said, throwing her head back and laughing. “I could do this all day.”

Jackson patted her on the back. “Great. It’s good to have a partner up here. Daphne isn’t crazy about the boat. Prefers the kayak.”

Amber widened her eyes. “Really? I can’t imagine that. This is way better than kayaking.”

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