Blurred Lines (Behind Closed Doors Book 2) (13 page)

“Don't ask me again.” I roll my eyes.

Okay, I admit the bruising on my wrist hadn't looked good but the doctors and nurses I've seen over the last four months couldn't be more wrong. Wayne would never deliberately hurt me. “We were arguing, he said something that upset me and I ran into the table as I ran from the room.”

“Mrs. Swift.” The doctor comes to sit in the chair beside me. It's as though he thinks taking a softer more friendly approach is going to get me to tell him my husband did this deliberately. “My colleague was alarmed by the development of bruising on your arm when she removed your temporary cast. They're not consistent with the events both you and your husband say happened, and the type of breaks you've suffered in both your left ulna and radius is not consistent with what happened. If there are problems at home we can help you.”

“We had a fight,” I reassure the doctor. “This has never happened before and it will never happen again.” The doctor looks like he wants to argue with me further but my phone rings. I know I shouldn't have it on but boy am I relieved for the interruption. “Sorry, it's my boss.” I only half-lie as I look at the caller ID. It's Liv and she did handle the process of employing me. “She's probably wondering where I am.”

It's the premiere of Ashleigh's movie next week and this is a major event in both mother and daughter's calendar. One of the pre-screenings sparked an interest with a national theater chain and they've billed it as one of the most important films of our time. Such an unusual endorsement for a small independent film has brought it a lot of attention. Now people are waiting for its release. Things have been a little hectic for the last couple of weeks, with all the prerelease press attention.

I nod and thank the doctor before I leave the orthopedic clinic. I can't believe the hospital staff thinks what happened to me when Wayne and I last argued is a regular occurrence. I think it's horrendous that these people, respectable professional people, can throw accusations like that out there without caution to the consequences. If anyone was to overhear that a police detective was beating up his wife there would be hell on. It would probably destroy Wayne's career. I stop marching and stand still. I'm so worked up about this I've actually been pacing so quickly I'm a little breathless. I take a deep breath in, fill my lungs and hold it for a second or two. Then I blow away the unnerving tension and anger I have building up and remind myself that now that my cast is off I never have to go back there again.

It's not until I'm in my car and plugging my cell into its hands free cradle that I notice I have a voicemail waiting and remember Liv called. The message she's left advises me that Ashleigh's dress is waiting for my approval. I almost scream with excitement. I love visiting with Marianne Lefleur. She's a designer who has very small couture label and has handpicked clients.

After many knock backs I was only able to get an appointment because Liv called and explained that Angela's daughter needed something special. At my very first meeting with Marianne she gushed and asked why hadn't I mentioned I worked for Ashleigh. Angela's daughters are always welcome at the Lefleur Boutique.

The biggest reason I love visiting with Marianne is because I find her work so inspiring. I still want my own couture label but until I met with Marianne, I was still struggling to produce what my mind envisions. Anything that I came up with lacked somehow... sure they were good but they weren't ... special.

Ashleigh has never once mentioned her intention to move back to New York and return to work for Robert Worthington. It's been over eight months since I first heard of her plans to quit
LA Sunset
and thought that I'd lost my job in the process. But if she was ever leaving then she may have abandoned the plans. She was very busy during pilot season, that few weeks where hundreds of pilot episodes are filmed with the hope of being commissioned into a series. She's guest starred in one of the most popular comedy series on television and it seems Ash knows how to make fun of herself; she played an ice queen in a dream sequence and came out on top. It was billed as the critics 'must watch' show. Now she's even reading a number of film scripts and going for auditions. She shows no intention of going anywhere.

With all this extra attention, Ashleigh has my workload tripled. I know Wayne isn't happy because my job has become really demanding. It's not a few shopping trips anymore and there are times when I think if he didn’t feel so bad over what happened the last time we argued over my job, then he would ask me to give it up.

But there are also times when he's goes back to telling me I'll never make it in this world without the Valentina name behind me. He says I'm too nice and I couldn't survive in a dog eat dog world of celebrity fashion without the super bitch fighting my battles for me. He makes it sound like being nice is a bad thing and that maybe Ashleigh has to step in every time to make sure she gets her way. Once, that happened just once, and it was Liv who pulled the strings so Ashleigh could have her way. But he says if Liv can do it, then it only proves how much I can't. So I wonder how we’d ever pay our mortgage if I was to give up working for my best friend.

What he says is totally at odds with what's happening to my reputation at the moment. Whenever Ashleigh is asked about her dress she always gives me the credit. She had an entire studio audience laughing only last week when one of the other guests on the show, an international music star, asked her about her outfit. She complimented Ashleigh on the fact that she's never been seen in the same outfit more than once and yet she never seems to run out of ways to be fresh and at the height of fashion. Ashleigh replied she wasn't responsible; if she was she'd be on the show bare foot and wearing a brown paper bag.

Since then, I’ve had a number of calls from television shows and magazines asking me if I'd be interested in consulting or writing for them. Wayne and I have had ... heated discussions about it. In fact, they're the only discussions we have at the moment. He tells me they're only doing it because Ashleigh endorsed me. Of course it is, but isn't that how this works? You get an endorsement and then you're offered more work. If you do a great job the new clients also endorse you and then you get more work. And it wasn't just Ashleigh who endorsed my work on that show. The music superstar also said I was good at what I do. But he forbids me to take on anymore work unless I quit working for Ashleigh. He says I'm busy enough. I think the claim that he never sees me anymore was a tad over dramatic, but in respect of my husband's wishes, I'm not accepting any more work right now.

I wish he'd make up his mind. He wants me to stop working for Ashleigh but we'd never be able to afford two cars, a five bedroom detached house with large gardens in suburbia, and the ability to buy whatever we want whenever we want or go out for meals whenever we don't feel like cooking, without my income. The only way I can make his wishes come true is by taking on new clients and building up a large portfolio of celebrity clients, but he doesn't want me to do all the extra work on top of working for Ashleigh either.

It's a shame really, because I received a call from Mac-News the day after the interview aired. Their fashion princess, and style guru to the masses, has been a pain in my butt since Sean co-presented the New Year's Eve celebrations in New York and decided to come to LA shortly afterwards. She wants me to be a guest on her segment. But Wayne says I should be concentrating on helping my brother adjust to his new life in LA and not flaunting my talents on TV. Ugh! He makes it sound so cheap and disgusting. But I guess he's right. Sean does seem to have hit an early mid-life crisis since the court case in September.

#

I've been home from Marianne's a couple of hours, and while I'm alone I've taken the opportunity to get all these ideas I have down on paper. I've sketched out a knee length goddess dress with spaghetti straps. It's versatile enough for most occasions but I can't put my finger on what's missing. The second sketch is a floor length strapless gown. I see it in satin, but it's not quite what I wanted either. I see something in between the two. So I start again. I erase the straps from the first dress and reshape the neckline to a strapless sweetheart. My pencil strokes the gentle shapely curves of a fitted bodice and my mind slips into a vision of vanilla satin. The detailed floor length skirt forms beneath the pencil's swift grace across the page. I smile as the gown sparkles under the flashing camera bulbs and television spotlights in my mind. Sequins? No, not sequins. Crystals, yes, a waterfall of the best quality crystals money can buy, shimmering and casting an iridescent glow over the whole gown.

I'm still working on the dress late into the afternoon, waiting for Wayne to come home from work. I'm on the third sketch, shaping the gown from the side, when the front door bursts open. I cannot wait for the day this dress is alive and walking down a red carpet.

“Jules!” Ashleigh's excited shriek bellows from the hallway. “Jules!”

I scramble together the sketches I'm working on and stand up. They're not ready for someone else to see yet. I've never told anyone I'm still working on my label. I know it's just a dream...a maybe one day when we don't have a mortgage. But I know realistically Wayne and I will never be able to afford what it takes to launch my own label and if we could, Wayne would never allow for me to do something that would take all of my time away from our marriage. He'd miss me too much. I feel all soft and gooey at the thought and look at the photograph of us on our wedding day beside my angled desk top drawing board. He's such a sweetie.

Ashleigh catches me staring at the picture, groans, and rolls her eyes. “Didn't anyone tell you the honeymoon period lasts two years not five?”

I laugh, because it has been over five years since we came to LA and I still think my husband could easily give any one of the superstars Ashleigh dates these days a run for their money where sex appeal is concerned. “Whoever told you that is lying, and when you find the one, you'll know what I mean.”

“Gee, what a way to remind your best friend that a; she's single b; she's missing out on something really great and c; she hasn't had sex since New Year's Eve.”

“You had sex on New Year's Eve? But you were in New York over Christmas and New Year. You never said you met someone.”

“I didn't?”

Ashleigh turns a rare and interesting shade of red which only peeks my interest further. “Who were you...?” My words drift as she bites her bottom lip and looks away. Oh my God! “Tell me!” I leap up from my chair. “Who were you...?” She lifts her brow and I feel a little uncomfortable. My sex life might have been open to debate on many occasions in the past but hers had always been off topic. Well, pay back was a bitch. “...um, shall we say welcoming in the New Year with?”

She looks a little stunned that I dare ask, blushes all over again and then shrugs. “Actually, I don't know.” I don't believe her. “I met, bedded and snuck away all in the early hours of New Year's Day.”

“A one night stand?” She's lying! She's got to be lying. Either way this is huge. Ashleigh never sleeps with anyone until she's certain they can be trusted with the secret double life she leads. “You so did not!”

“I so did.” She smirks as she glides around to my desk. “Anyhoo,” she sings, and I know she's going to change the subject. She can try; there's no way I'm going to let this drop. “I've been nominated for Best Actress in a drama series!”

“Oh no you don't, missy, I want all the gory details. I –” Wait, what did she just say? She just looks at me with a smug little smile on her face as her words finally sink in. Nominated for Best Actress? “No!” I gasp and she nods. “Get. Out!”

I'd totally forgot the nominations for the biggest daytime television awards we being announced today. She's always so blasé about the rumors her exit from
LA Sunset
would earn her a nomination.
I have two already, why would I care about a third?
But the fact her expression says she's about to burst with excitement tells me she cares. She really does care.

“Naturally, you're the first person I've told.”

A squeal bursts from my lips. A scream leaps from Ashleigh's and we begin dancing around the study like a couple of excited teenagers instead of a couple of almost thirty year olds. “What are you going to wear?” I ask. I'm going to be extra busy. I don't know if I'll have time to set up meetings with designers and preview sketches, swatches, get Ashleigh's approval, have fittings and all of the other details that go along with getting a couture gown. Marianne's been working on Ashleigh's premiere gown since December. Everyone who's going will already have their dresses organized by now. But Ashleigh had no intention of sitting through another boring award ceremony. “More importantly, who are you going to wear?”

“I don't know.” She shrugs and lowers herself onto my chair. “I don't care. You choose.” She looks at the sketches I'm working on. “Oh, Julia,” she gushes and I scramble forward and close my sketch pad. “Hey!” Ashleigh slaps at my hands. “I was looking at that.”

“No!” I cry, trying to get the sketches away from her but she's not giving them up without a fight. “They're not ready for people to look at.”

Ash's shoulder pushes against mine as she tries to shove me away. “Gawd! I forgot you were like this about your designs.” I shove back and she turns, slaps her hands on her hips and laughs. “Don't make me use the death grip on you.”

Ash makes a claw with her hand and her fingers snap to her thumb. It's the face, that mean looking narrow of her eyes and the pursing of her lips that makes me burst into a fit of giggles. It gets me every time. “What is this? High school?”

Ash strips back the cover of my sketch pad, stops at the top sheet at sighs. “Jules, these are amazing.” Ashleigh turns in the chair and flicks through the pages. “Oh, Jules, you're so talented.” Suddenly she falls really quiet. Her fingers run over the design of a princess cut gown, and she lets out a solemn sigh. “You know, when I was in New York I used to look at your portfolio and tell myself I was being ridiculous and should just call but I ... I was stupid and didn't.” She pauses as she lifts the page. “I probably would have if I didn't have it as a security blanket.”