The Last Wife: An absolutely gripping and emotional page-turner with a brilliant twist Read online

  Pasting a smile on my face, I take the final steps into the garden and manage a general wave. I’ll do the rounds eventually but first I need to wish May a happy birthday.

  Christine fakes a smile, Shamira and Trent wave, Ashlin ignores me. Another typical family gathering with the Parkers.

  Determined not to let them get me down, I climb the steps to the terrace. Justin beams as he beckons me and for a moment my breath catches. He’s incredibly handsome, with an abundance of dark wavy hair and a natural tan set off by a pale blue polo top and designer denim.

  I return his smile and feel May’s astute gaze on me. Unnerved by her scrutiny I quickly cross the terrace and embrace her.

  “Happy birthday, May.” She feels surprisingly fragile in my arms, like she’s lost weight. “Shelley wants to give you your present later.”

  “Thanks, dear.” She slips out of my hug and pats my cheek. “Your delightful daughter has already dropped a few hints.”

  I laugh. “But we’ve been here less than five minutes.”

  “You know kids, can’t keep secrets,” Justin says, stepping forward to hug me, an embrace that lasts a second too long. “How are you?”

  “Good, you?”

  I know what’s coming as I ease away and despite turning my head slightly to the right, he still manages to home in on my lips for a kiss. It’s quick and subtle so no one notices, but it makes me uncomfortable nonetheless.

  “Manic workload. Long hours. You know how it is.”

  His warm smile is guileless and my momentary annoyance at his inappropriate greeting vanishes. I like how Justin acknowledges I work for a living and shows an interest.

  “I’m getting better at managing my hours.” I feign a modest shrug. “One of the perks of being freelance, I can pick and choose when I work.”

  May waggles her finger. “Enough shop talk, you two. Let’s mingle.”

  Justin pulls a face behind his mother’s back and I stifle a grin. We’ve always had a connection, this easy way of communicating. It makes life tolerable having someone who actually gives a damn about me, knowing I’m about to face the inevitable sniping and goading from his wife and sister.

  Today will be harder than ever to face them, considering I unwittingly know their secrets.

  I need to discover who’s targeting one of the most influential families in Chicago because the startling information I was sent earlier could tear this family apart.

  I accept a glass of wine from a waiter as Ashlin sidles up to me.

  “Hey, Ria, haven’t seen you since the last obligatory Parker party three weeks ago.” She’s loud, brash, the standout woman in any room. It drives me nuts because I envy her confidence. My inner introvert craves that kind of chutzpah, to be noticed and not blend into the background like I’ve always done. It served me well in the past to be invisible: to avoid the leers of a foster father, to slip a treat into my pocket at the shops, to elude unjust punishments at the hand of a pseudo mother pretending to care about my wellbeing.

  I have worked hard to earn respect over the years, to take my rightful place in this family, yet I can’t shake the stigma attached with being not quite good enough.

  I don’t bother forcing a smile. “I’ve been busy.”

  Because some of us work for a living. Not that I would if May had her way. My mother-in-law insists I accept financial assistance. Guilt money, for the fact her youngest son abandoned us when Shelley turned five. I accept her generous offerings and save them in a bank account for Shelley, but May also finds other ways to make life easier. Foisting her cleaner on me. Paying for Shelley’s school uniforms. Ensuring her caterers drop off a weekly delivery after they’ve been to her place.

  I don’t have it in my heart to refuse her all the time. May is the matriarch of the Parker family and she actually likes me, so I don’t want to offend. I need someone onside.

  Though technically that isn’t true. Justin likes me too. A bit too much for a brother-in-law, the thought eroding my meager confidence even more considering I’m making small talk with his wife.

  “Don’t you get bored sitting at a computer all day?” Ashlin wrinkles her nose, no mean feat considering the amount of fillers she has injected into her face on a regular basis. “It would drive me mad.”

  “I love my job.” I down a gulp of Chardonnay and eye the bar nearby. As usual, Ashlin will test my vow to stop at two. “And I do some of my investigative work on the road so I’m not on a screen all day.”

  I sound stuffy and pompous and don’t give a damn. The airhead isn’t interested in hearing about the intricacies of journalism. She’s never once asked me about my work beyond inferring I must be a corrupt, unscrupulous lunatic who spends all day online exposing secondhand news stories.

  “Investigative work.” She sniggers and eyes me with faux curiosity. “Is that why Grayson left you? Too much poking your nose where you shouldn’t?”

  She’s baiting me as she always does when she’s had a few drinks. Hoping I’ll lose it in front of the family. Deliberately being a twat so if I retaliate I’ll end up embarrassing myself. Her callous treatment is always worse after she’s had a few wines and by the contemptuous gleam in her eye, she’s on a particularly vicious roll today.

  I can do what I always do in this situation: feign indifference. Or I can cut her down to size like I’ve yearned to do so many times before.

  I don’t like taunting, having endured my fair share as a kid. I usually ignore Ashlin when she does it but after witnessing her appalling treatment of Shelley earlier, I can’t help but retaliate.

  “From what I’ve recently learned, I’m not the one being investigated.” I lean in close, not wanting everyone to hear the truth. I don’t want to reveal anything until I know what I’m dealing with regarding those incriminating emails.

  But she’s pushed me too far today and I can’t resist demeaning her so she knows how she makes me feel. “One of the dangers of living in the digital age, Ash. You never know where those footprints will lead.”

  She flushes a nasty puce and stares at me in open-mouthed disbelief, whether because of my unsavory insinuation or the fact I’ve verbally retaliated for the first time, I don’t know.

  She starts to bluster, to clear her throat, like she’s swallowed one of the bees May keeps at the back of her property.

  I allow a slow victory smile. I don’t have to say anything else. Her reaction confirms what I already know.

  Ashlin is cheating on Justin.

  She’s having a seedy affair with a major business rival.

  And it isn’t her first.

  I’m disappointed. I want so much to believe this family is special, that they deserve the pedestal society places them on. The Parkers are invited to every major event in Chicago and beyond, from the opening nights of exclusive boutiques to select sailing regattas on Lake Michigan, from courtside seats at the US Open to private screenings on Broadway. More often than not they’re oblivious to how revered they are in the elite of this city’s wealthy.

  So what I discovered earlier today could have far-reaching consequences.

  For everyone.

  Maybe I’ve said too much and I walk away, as she mutters, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I pause and glance over my shoulder, one eyebrow raised in provocation. “Don’t you?”

  3

  Ashlin

  “What the hell does she know? Busybody cow.”

  I want to scream it across the garden so everyone can hear. Instead, I settle for venting with Christine, my eldest sister-in-law, who’s never fully trusted Ria either.

  “That’s a tad harsh.” Christine tops up my champagne and pops a strawberry into the flute.

  “Yeah, you’re right.” I clamp down on my fury a second before I say too much, like how the hell does Ria know I’m ruining my marriage. I settle for a more sedate, “I’m the cow but there’s something about her that never fails to rile me. She always acts so damn superior.”
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  “Don’t let her get to you.” Christine clinks her champagne glass against mine. “If Mom wasn’t such a soft touch, we wouldn’t see her.”

  “Yeah, your mother is too sweet.”

  Utter BS, because I happen to think May Parker is an overbearing, interfering old bat and I hate my mother-in-law almost as much as I despise Ria. But Justin worships his ma, does everything the battleaxe says, and as long as she lives and controls the Parker fortune I play nice.

  “I don’t get it.” Christine sips at her champagne. “Grayson abandoned her five years ago, so why does Mom still feel guilty? It’s got nothing to do with her.”

  “Because Ria’s taking advantage.” I widen my eyes in a fair imitation of Ria. “She acts all innocent to fool people, while laughing at us for our gullibility behind our backs.”

  “You really think she’s like that?” Christine’s gaze travels to where Ria is chatting with Justin, smiling up at him like he’s the funniest guy in the world.

  That’s another thing I hate, the way my husband looks at her. He doesn’t think I notice but I do, since way back when Grayson first introduced her to the family.

  Justin had a gleam in his eye… like he’d seen something better than me. It’s why I keep my distance from Ria. It’s not her fault my marriage is falling apart but I don’t need to see the evidence of my husband appreciating another woman when he can barely look at me.

  If he ever finds out what I’ve been doing to get back at him… what Ria said a few moments ago is too close to home.

  And I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure she doesn’t learn the truth.

  “I think she’s cunning. And capable of anything.”

  I could’ve been describing myself and we both know it, as Christine casts me a curious glance but says nothing.

  I like Christine but rarely see her beyond May’s family get-togethers once a month. She lives in New York City, we chat on the phone occasionally, but don’t have a lot in common. She’s a true Parker, I’m just a ring-in, like Ria and Shamira.

  Not that Shamira and I are close. She’s too busy mixing up essential oil concoctions, twisting herself into unnatural yoga poses or fawning over Trent to care about anyone else. Besides, she’s too wheatgrass-mung-bean-free-love-inner-peace for me.

  “How’s my big brother treating you?”

  I dart a glance at Christine, wondering if Ria has said anything to her, but her stare remains ingenuous.

  “Justin is great. Putting in long hours at the firm but what’s new? He was a workaholic when I met him and I admire how driven he is.”

  More BS but Christine is like her brother: too narcissistic to see through my lies. All the Parkers are self-absorbed, something I gladly overlooked when I married the moneyman. Justin runs the family’s financial company, long established by his father and his grandfather. Old money. At forty-five, Justin is one of the richest men in Chicago and I enjoy the spoils. My girls attend the best private school, we live in upmarket Rockland Grove in a sprawling modern monolith designed by Illinois’s most in-demand architect and I don’t have to work. Which is why I have too much time on my hands to dwell on my empty, faux-shiny life and mull ways to fill it. Foolish ways that can come back to bite me if I’m not careful and by Ria’s taunt earlier, that could be sooner rather than later.

  I only see Ria every few weeks at May’s insistence that the family assemble regularly, and today is the first time she’s fired back when I goad her. It’s petty, I know, but I do it because I secretly admire her. It’s impressive that someone raised penniless in the foster system has a degree in journalism and works as a freelancer with a recognizable byline. She’s intelligent and I can see why Justin practically gushes when he talks about her. That’s the real reason I don’t like her. I’m jealous. Not because of Justin’s laughable crush on her but because I see her pitying glances, like she can’t comprehend how I don’t work for my money, like I’m vacuous and vain.

  “Justin always puts family first,” Christine says, raising her glass in a toast. “But I’d be careful if I were you, Ash. Because Ria is family too and the way he acts around her, like a puppy dog waiting for scraps of affection…” She trails off with a smug smile, knowing she’s made her point when I feign indifference but end up tipping some of my champagne down the front of my chartreuse strapless sundress.

  “What are you saying?”

  I’d prefer to walk away from her usual passive-aggressive games but maybe she knows something I don’t? I’m already rattled by Ria’s earlier jibe and can’t afford to ignore Christine’s casual inference there could be something going on between Justin and that woman.

  “Men are idiots and they’re suckers for a damsel in distress.” She swirls her champagne, a slight frown marring her brow. “Ria insinuated her way into this family by fooling Grayson and now that he’s gone and she’s back on her feet…” She gestures toward Justin. “Maybe she’s set her sights higher?”

  A sliver of fear lodges in my heart. Maybe I’ve played this all wrong, taking Justin for a fool. If he ever finds out what I’ve done… What if Ria does know something? She’d have contacts everywhere and I can’t believe the thought only crosses my mind now. I really need to stay off the booze.

  “She doesn’t need the money,” I scoff, acting like nothing Christine has said bothers me, when in fact I’m worried. “She got a good pay-out from the divorce and earns a squillion according to Justin.”

  A sly grin lights Christine’s face. “So he talks about her?”

  My patience snaps. “She’s part of this family. Of course he mentions her.” I pause for dramatic effect. “We talk about all of you.”

  Something akin to fear flickers in her eyes before she blinks and I wonder if I imagined it. “Considering what you say about Ria, I’d hate to think what you say about the rest of us.”

  I tap my bottom lip, pretending to think. “Let’s see. Trent is a eunuch because Shamira carries his balls around in her macramé handbag. She’s a try-hard hippy wannabe who inhales too many fumes from those remedies she mixes. And you…” I trail off deliberately, making her squirm.

  A fine sweat breaks out over her forehead and a bead trickles down her temple.

  “What about me?”

  I draw out the moment, before laughing so loud she jumps. “You’re an open book, Chrissie dearest. You have the most boring job in the world, you’re too smart to get married and you live eight hundred miles away from this rabble.” I pat her arm in pure condescension. “I almost envy you.”

  Her confusion is palpable. She doesn’t know whether I’m joking or having a dig, like I usually do.

  “There’s nothing boring about being a property manager.” She squares her shoulders. “Especially when I own all the buildings I manage.”

  I snicker. “You know you can pay someone to do that for you, right?”

  “I’m not a lazy trophy wife.”

  It’s a direct jibe and for a moment I consider escalating this game by retaliating. But it’s not worth it. I have more important battles to fight, namely discovering exactly what Ria knows.

  “You’re so right.” I fake yawn and stretch. “Not everyone can lie around all day doing nothing and looking this good. It’s a skill born of years of practice.”

  She laughs as I intend and the tension between us dissolves. It’s always like this, a game of one-upmanship that one of us eventually backs down from. I hate giving in because I always have to win. It’s my thing.

  I never let anyone get the better of me.

  Ever.

  4

  May

  “Gran, what do you call a mushroom at a party?”

  I tap my bottom lip, pretending to think. “What, Jessie?”

  “A fungi. Get it? A fun-guy,” Ellen pipes up, beaming at besting her sister, who proceeds to stick out her tongue while pinching Ellen under the table.

  “Ow!” Ellen yells, and punches Jessie in the arm, who immediately tears up. I can tell they’re cr
ocodile tears as her furtive glance sweeps the nearby garden to see if anyone is watching.

  Just like their mother Ashlin, they’re great actresses.

  “Girls, I’m sure there are plenty of other jokes you can tell me.” I frown at them and it has about as much effect as it did on my kids many years ago: absolutely none.

  I had my four close together in the hope they’d learn from each other. Instead, they’d been individuals from the start, as different as siblings could be. Even now, their differences are startling. Justin puts as much distance between him and Ashlin as possible, whilst Trent dotes on his wife like a lapdog grateful for scraps of affection. Christine hovers near the bar, topping up her glass frequently, enjoying the lavish lifestyle she’s become accustomed to, and I have no idea where Grayson currently resides since he abandoned his family five years ago.

  I don’t like my children being so disjointed. I always wanted my family to be close, but my daughter moved interstate to get away. And out of my three daughters-in-law only Ria is worth a damn.

  Shamira can be sweet but she’s making Trent softer every day. He should’ve followed Justin into the family business; he chose to teach music instead.

  As for Ashlin, the only reason I agreed to let Justin marry her was her family connections. The Garners are as well respected in financial circles as the Parkers and it had been a mutually beneficial alliance. But Ashlin’s carefully constructed veneer hides a nasty, shallow woman and I don’t have much time for her.

  Which leaves Ria. Poor, slighted Ria, abandoned by my flaky youngest son but standing proud regardless. Despite her upbringing Ria exudes pure class, with an inherent grace money can’t buy. I like her and the feeling’s mutual. Ria works hard, raises Shelley right and is still part of the Parker family despite the attempts of some to ostracize her.