The Last Mrs. Parrish by Liv Constantine

Author:Liv Constantine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

Thirty-Four

Jackson told Amber he had a surprise for her. The chauffeur picked them up from the apartment and drove them to Teterboro Airport, where a private jet waited for them. When Amber saw the airfield, she turned to Jackson. “What are we doing?” she asked.

Jackson pulled her closer to him. “We’re taking a little trip.”

“A trip? Where? I don’t have any clothes with me.”

“Of course you don’t. But you won’t be in them much anyway,” he said with a laugh.

“Jackson!” Amber feigned outrage. “But really. I didn’t pack anything.”

“Don’t worry—there are stores in Paris.”

“Paris?” she cried. “Oh, Jackson. We’re going to Paris?”

“The most romantic city in the world.”

Amber unbuckled her seat belt, slid onto Jackson’s lap, and kissed him. They almost undressed right there in the car, but they had pulled to a stop near the jet stairs. Jackson was the first to pull away. “Here we are,” he said, and opened his door.

They boarded the plane, and Amber looked around while Jackson talked to the pilot. The only planes she’d been on were commercial airliners crowded with rows and rows of seats, and naturally, Amber had never sat anywhere but in economy. Even that time she’d met Jackson and the family in London, she had flown commercially. She knew that private jets existed, but she’d never imagined they looked like this. Supple leather sofas in a beautiful cream color sat on both sides of the plane, facing each other. There was a large-screen TV, and a dining table for four had a round crystal vase filled with fresh flowers. A door opened onto a bedroom with a king-size bed, and the bathroom was almost as luxurious as the one in the New York apartment. In fact, Amber thought, it was like being in a smaller but just as sumptuous home.

Jackson came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. “You like?”

“What’s not to like?”

“Follow me,” he said.

He led her into the bedroom, where he opened the closet doors. Indicating a mass of clothing hanging there, he said, “Look through them and decide what you want to keep. Keep all of them if you like.”

“When did you have time to do this?”

“I took care of it last week,” he said.

Amber went to the closet and went through the hangers one by one, examining the dresses, tops, pants, jackets, and sweaters, every one still with a tag on it. Obviously, he’d bought them just for her. She excitedly began pulling them out to try on, kicking off her shoes and removing her dress. Jackson sat on the bed. “You don’t mind if I watch this little show, do you?”

“Not one little bit.”

She tried on every last piece, modeling them for Jackson, who approved of it all. Of course, he had chosen everything, so it stood to reason that he would.

“There are shoes in there too. Up top, on the shelf,” he said.

“You think of everything, don’t you?”

“I do.”

Amber looked up and counted fifteen shoe boxes with names she had only dreamed about.

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