Liv Constantine - The Last Mrs. Parrish

“Oh my gosh. Are you okay?” Gregg said, grabbing a tea towel and pressing it against Amber’s dress.

Are you a flipping moron? she almost yelled, but instead smiled thinly and said, “I’m fine. How about you go sit down, and I’ll finish in here?”

They arrived at the Broadway Theatre in plenty of time, and he went to the bar to get them each a drink. Amber looked around at the magnificent theater while she waited, admiring the grand chandelier in the opulent lobby of red and gold. Gregg returned with their drinks, two glasses of white wine, even though she’d repeatedly told him she preferred red. Did the moron ever listen?

“I think you’ll be pleased with the seats. Front-row orchestra,” he said, brandishing the tickets with a flourish.

“Great. A front-row seat to all that singing.” Amber had seen the movie, and she didn’t really get what all the fuss was about. Fiddler was old news as far as she was concerned. These were his parents’ tickets, and apparently even they weren’t interested in going.

“Have you seen it before?” she asked.

He nodded. “Seven times. It’s my favorite play. I just love the music.”

“Wow, seven times. That must be a record,” Amber said, looking distractedly around the lobby.

Gregg stood up straighter and said with pride, “My family are quite the theater aficionados. Dad buys tickets to all the best shows.”

“How nice for you.”

“Yes, it is. He’s a great man.”

“And what about you?” Amber asked without much interest.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you a great man?” she said, playing with him.

Gregg chuckled. “I will be one day, Amber. I am being groomed right now to be a great man,” he said, looking at her in earnest. “And I hope you will be by my side.”

Amber controlled the urge to laugh in his face and instead said, “We’ll see, Gregg, we’ll see. Shall we go take our seats now?”

Amber found she was enjoying the play despite her earlier reservations. Just when she’d begun to think the evening wasn’t such a waste after all, Gregg started tapping his foot in time to the music. Next he was humming along, and the people around them began to look over.

“Gregg!” she hissed under her breath.

“Huh?”

“You’re humming.”

“Sorry! It’s just so catchy.”

He quieted down, but then began to bob his head back and forth in time to the music. She wanted to slug him.

Three hours later, they left the theater. Amber came away with a headache.

“Feel like a drink?” Gregg asked.

“I guess.” Anything was better than going straight back to his parents’ apartment and being pawed.

“How about Cipriani’s?”

“That sounds fine. Can we grab a cab, though? I don’t want to walk in the rain.”

“Of course.”

“I still don’t get what the big deal was when the young daughter married the Russian,” Gregg said as they were seated in the taxi. “I mean, geez, weren’t the Jews complaining about being judged because of their religion, and then Tevye goes and does the same thing.”

Amber looked at him in astonishment. “You do realize that the Russians were the ones making them leave, right? Also she was marrying outside of her religion.” He had seen this seven times and was still confused?

“Yeah, yeah. I know. But I’m just saying. It’s not very politically correct. But, whatever, the music sure is great.”

“Do you mind if we skip drinks? My head is pounding; I really need to just go to sleep.” If she had to spend any more time talking to him tonight, she might have to choke him.

“Of course, babe.” He gave her a concerned look. “So sorry you don’t feel well.”

She smiled tightly. “Thanks.”

When they got back to the apartment, she crawled under the covers and curled into a tight ball. She felt the mattress shift as he lay next to her, pressing his body close.

“Want me to massage your temples?” he whispered.

I want you to get lost, she thought. “No. Just let me try and fall asleep.”

He draped an arm around her waist. “I’m right here if you change your mind.”

Not for long, Amber thought.

A bright beam of light peeked through the heavy bedroom curtains of Amber’s room at the Dorchester Hotel, rousing her. She jumped out of bed and pushed back the green drapery to let the full radiance of the sun warm her body. Despite the early hour, there was lots of activity in Hyde Park; joggers, dog walkers, people on their way to work. They’d been in London three glorious days, and Amber was lapping up every minute of it. She was here as Jackson’s assistant, as he had brought along the whole family, and she had her own room just down the hall from the family suite. Jackson and Amber worked during the day while Daphne and the girls went sightseeing.

On their second night, they all went to St Martin’s Theatre to see The Mousetrap , but last night Daphne had decided to take Tallulah and Bella to the Royal Ballet to see Sleeping Beauty while Jackson and Amber went to a business dinner. The truth was, there was no business dinner. Amber and Jackson had spent those four hours in her room. He was frenzied after not being able to be alone with her for the last three days. He wasn’t used to such long dry spells; she’d made sure of that, and when she had her period she pleased him in other ways. Jackson now stayed at the New York apartment at least three nights a week, and Amber stayed with him. Daphne could reach either one of them by cell phone, so there was no way for her to figure out they were together. On the weekends, Amber was usually hanging at the Parrish house with her good friend Daphne, and on at least two occasions, she and Jackson had had sex in the downstairs bathroom while Daphne was putting the girls to bed. The danger of it had been absolutely thrilling. And they had snuck out of the house late one night after Daphne fell asleep on the couch and gone skinny-dipping in the heated pool, then did it in the gazebo. He couldn’t get enough of her. She had him lassoed, and as soon as she was pregnant, she would tighten the rope.

Amber draped her leg over Jackson’s body and nestled against his shoulder. “Mmm. I could stay like this forever,” she mumbled sleepily.

Jackson pulled her closer and stroked her thigh. “They’ll be back soon. We need to put on our dinner duds and wait for them in the suite.” He rolled over on top of her. “But first…”

Amber was meeting Daphne and girls for breakfast in the hotel, and when she walked in, the striking mix of copper, marble, and butterscotch-colored leather filled her senses once again. Daphne and the children were seated with Sabine at a round table near the middle of the restaurant.

“Good morning,” Amber said as she took a seat. “How was the ballet last night?”

Before Daphne could say anything, Bella piped up. “Oh, Auntie Amber, you would have loved it. Sleeping Beauty was so beautiful.”

“I guess that’s why they call her Sleeping Beauty,” Amber said.

“No, no. They call her that because she fell asleep and no one could wake her up until the prince kissed her.” Bella’s face was flushed with excitement.

“Aunt Amber was kidding. That was a joke, stupid,” Tallulah said.

Bella hit the cereal bowl with her spoon. “Mom!”

“Tallulah, apologize to your sister at once,” Daphne said.

Tallulah gave her mother a look. “Sorry,” she muttered to Bella.

“That’s better,” Daphne said. “Sabine, will you take Tallulah and Bella for a walk in the park? The barge down the Thames to Greenwich doesn’t leave until eleven.”