Page 54 of The Next Mrs. Parrish

She didn’t have time to play games. She wanted a number and a commitment from them, she needed to know what her profit would be before using her hard-earned money to buy up Daisy Ann’s stock.

“Roddy, is it okay if I call you that?” She didn’t wait for his assent. “I have it on very good authority that you’re jonesing for those designs. I’ve been to your stores. Your jewelry is shit. Those designs will elevate you way above your competition. Now, I’m going to go down to your lovely café and get me a Coke. When I get back, either y’all are in or y’all are out. I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. I have other prospects to see. I reckon your daddy won’t be too happy if you let this opportunity slip through your fingers.”A few more weeks here and I might even have a southern accent,Amber thought, as she sashayed out the door.

She came back twenty minutes later and left with a written commitment, good for ninety days, to purchase fifty-five shares of White Orchid stock at a price well above what she’d be paying for Daisy Ann’s shares.

They rose and shook hands all around, but Amber held Hot Guy’s hand a beat longer, then handed each of them one of her cards, making sure he was the one who got her scribbled note on the back.

—

“Okay, Bobby,” Amber said as she slid into the back seat of the SUV. “Last stop is Highland Park Village. I’ll be an hour or two, so why don’t you go have something to eat? I’ll text you when I’m ready to be picked up.”

Before they reached the upscale center, Amber’s phone pinged. A text from Hot Guy (aka Todd):How about I save you a stool at Double D Bar. Say nine o’clock?She grinned and texted back.I’m there.

She went first to Alexander McQueen and bought an off-the-shoulder slashed minidress in white, then strolled to Miron Crosby where she decided on a pair of midi cowboy boots in white python after trying on at least ten other pairs. Finally, just for the heck of it, Amber walked to the Cartier store and chose a Juste un Clou bracelet. Not that she needed any jewelry, but, hey, what did need have to do withit?

Amber looked at her watch. A quick text to Bobby and she should be back at Rosewood by five at the latest, just in time for her massage. Then a leisurely soak and a tiny bite of something before dressing. She shivered with delight as she pictured Todd sitting on the edge of her suite’s king-size bed while she gave him a little show, naked except for her new white cowboy boots.

– 33 –

DAPHNE

When I open the closet to hang up my things, I’m shocked to see it already filled with designer outfits. I’m thrown back in time to our honeymoon when Jackson presented me with an array of dresses, shoes, and accessories. All at once my heart is racing, and the icy fingers of fear wrap themselves around me. I stand still and close my eyes, telling myself that I am no longer afraid of Jackson, that I am strong, that he has no power over me. While I’m here I’ll have to be prepared for more memories of his control and abuse, like land mines ready to explode when I least expectit.

I grab the first hanger and look at the label on the red pantsuit—Dior, size four. I shake my head as I continue to the next items, Stella McCartney jumper, Tom Ford pants set, Armani blazer. All of them size four. There are shoes too, Blahniks, Gucci, Louboutin’s. I don’t dress like this anymore. I wear sandals and sneakers, not four-inch heels. I haven’t bought anything designer since I left Connecticut. And I’m no size four any longer, nor do I wish to be. For years he made me keep a food journal to track every morsel that I ate. I had to weigh myself daily to make sure I didn’t gain an ounce. According to Jackson, eight weeks was sufficient time to bounce back from pregnancy. After I had Bella, those last ten pounds were stubborn. She was a colicky baby, and I was sleep deprived. I didn’t have the energy to drag myself to the gym. Exactly eight weeks to theday, he strode into the bedroom, a determined look on his face, holding a garment bag.

“We’re going to the club tonight. I got you a new dress.”

“Jackson, I’m wiped out. I just want to go to bed early.”

He scoffed. “All you do is sleep. I’m sick of doing nothing. Go fix yourself up and get dressed.”

He thrust the bag at me, and I unzipped it. A gorgeous red Versace, size four. I knew it wouldn’t fit. I sighed. “Okay, I’ll go shower, but this dress looks too small.”

He moved closer, his face inches from mine. “Listen to me, you fat cow. You will wear this dress even if you have to put on three pairs of Spanx. Maybe it’ll motivate you to lose the baby weight. You’re disgusting.”

I held back tears as I ran from the room and showered. I could barely zip the dress—it pinched my skin, emphasized my swollen belly—but somehow I got it on. I didn’t know how I was going to get through the evening wearing it. When we got to the club, I saw he’d invited three other couples to join us. The fabric dug into me as I sat there trying not to breathe too deeply. I leaned forward to pick up my glass of water, and suddenly, I heard it, the sound of ripping. Mortified, I turned to Jackson and saw the amused smirk on his face.

“Daphne, I told you that you weren’t ready for a size four.” He shook his head. “Just accept you’re a bigger girl now that you’ve popped out two kids.”

Now I slam the closet door shut. Maybe these clothes belong to Amber. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d filled every closet in this house with her crap. I reopen the closet door, push everything to one side, and place the few things I’ve brought on the rod.

I march down the stairs and find Jackson still in his study. “You forgot to empty the closet in the room I’m staying in. Amber’s things are in there.”

He smiles at me. “I didn’t forget. I bought those for you. A welcome home present.”

“I can choose my own clothing, thank you very much.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “I don’t know if it’s living in California that’s to blame, but you have to admit, you’ve gotten a bit slovenly. Jeans and T-shirts get old after a while. And once I get my business going again, we’ll need to entertain. You’ll need to have appropriate attire.”

Play along, play along,I tell myself. I won’t do myself any favors by tipping my hand. “I guess you’re right. But, Jackson, they’re the wrong size. I’m not a four anymore.”

He stands and appraises me, his eyes traveling from my head down to my feet. “Yes, I can see you’ve put on some weight. No matter, we’ll take care of that. I noticed Bella’s a bit chubby as well, so I’ve already instructed the cook to prepare keto meals.”

“Please tell me you didn’t say anything to her about her weight. That’s how eating disorders can start.”

He shrugs. “I may have mentioned that we eat healthy here. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Jackson—”

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