Page 64 of The Last Mrs. Parrish

A mixture of feelings washed over me. I untangled myself from his arms and gave him a sincere smile. “I need to go. I’ll be late.”

He pulled me back to him. “You’re the boss, remember? You don’t answer to anyone but the board.” He was on top of me then, his eyes holding mine again in that hypnotizing stare. “And the board doesn’t mind if you’re late. Please stay. I just want to hold you a little longer.”

Everything had begun with such promise. And then, like a windshield chipped by a tiny pebble, the chip turned into deep cracks that spread until there was nothing left to repair.

Thirty-Seven

Dating as a means to getting to know someone is highly overrated. When your hormones are raging and the attraction is magnetic, your brain takes a vacation. He was everything I never knew I needed.

At work, I was back in my comfort zone, though I kept flashing back to our night together with a smile. Hours later, a commotion outside my small office made me look up. A young man was pushing a cart with vase after vase of red roses. Fiona, my secretary, was behind him, her face flushed and hands waving.

“Someone sent you flowers. Lots of flowers.”

I stood up and signed for them. I counted a dozen vases. I put one bunch on my desk and looked around, wondering what to do with the rest. We placed them along the floor of my small office, since we had nowhere else to set them.

Fiona shut the door when the deliveryman left and plopped down in the chair across from me. “Okay, spill.”

I hadn’t wanted to discuss Jackson with anyone yet. I didn’t even know what we were. I reached over and pulled out the card.

Your skin is softer than these petals. Missing you already.

J

They were everywhere. It was too much. The cloying smell of the flowers overwhelmed me and made my stomach roil.

Fiona was staring at me with an exasperated expression. “Well?”

“Jackson Parrish.”

“I knew it!” She gave me a triumphant look. “The way he was looking at you when he stopped by to see the offices the other day, I knew it was just a matter of time.” She leaned forward, her chin in her hands. “Is it serious?”

“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I like him—but I don’t know.” I gestured toward the flowers. “He comes on awfully strong.”

“Yeah, what a jerk, sending you all these beautiful roses.” She got up and opened door.

“Fiona?”

“Yes?”

“Take a couple for your desk. I don’t know what to do with the rest.”

She shook her head. “Sure thing, Boss. But I gotta tell you, he’s not going to be so easy to cast off.”

I needed to get back to work. I’d figure out Jackson later. I was about to make a phone call when Fiona opened the door again. Her face was ashen.

“It’s your mother.”

I grabbed the phone and held it to my ear. “Mom?”

“Daphne, you need to come home. Your father’s had a heart attack.”

“How bad is it?” I choked out.

“Just come. As soon as you can.”

Thirty-Eight

The next phone call I made was to Jackson. As soon as I managed to get the words out, he took over.

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