Blurred Lines (Behind Closed Doors Book 2) (8 page)

Whatever. Again, I try not to roll my eyes because I know how much that annoys Wayne, but honestly! I really don't care what our families want. It's my wedding.

Chapter Nine

March 2006

A few months after Wayne and I married I was invited to meet with Angela Valentina's assistant Liv at the Valentina's home in Malibu. Liv's been with Angela ever since Ashleigh's parents divorced twenty-five years ago. Liv used to coordinate the schedules for Roberto, Angela and the twins at one point. That sounds far too stressful to me. Ashleigh made her childhood sound like one made for TV role after the other, with martial arts tournaments, dance recitals and musicals in between.

Anyway, the attention Ashleigh is causing at the moment is unprecedented for the Valentina's and Liv needs someone to help her out. She says Ashleigh is dreadfully time consuming, and well, she’s acting like a diva.

I laughed out loud. Ashleigh is the easiest going and least objectionable person I know as long as things are going her way, which of course, is always. But I guess I’d never really met the side of Ashleigh that she’s always referred to as her dark side, Krystal. Because everything is done Krystal’s way, or it’s not done at all.

“If she'd have been my child she would never have got away with it,” Liv said. “Besides Tristen Michaels, you're probably Ashleigh’s only other true friend. I’m one hundred per cent certain she’ll never take advantage of that. In fact, I’m relying on it.”

I think she realized I was a little offended that I was getting the job based on who I know and not based on what I can do, because she added, “Don’t get me wrong, Julia, you majored in fashion at college and worked for a respectable label before you came out to LA.”

One of the biggest labels in fashion is just respectable? I don't quarrel, because I've been out of work for almost four years and in fashion terms it might as well be a decade it really does move on so fast.

“But where Krystal is concerned, I need someone who she’ll listen to. She’s a twin, and right now, she’s furious over the suggestions that they’re exactly alike in every way. So you’ll be tasked with completely overhauling her style, making it unique and then maintaining and refreshing it. I think this is where your friendship is most valuable. You know her, and you have been giving her style advice for years. The only difference is that now you’ll get paid for it.”

So the opportunity of any job, let alone a coveted role as celebrity style consultant, is too good to be true. It sounds fabulous, but I've soon discovered that it's really nothing more than going on a couple of shopping trips, picking out outfits, occasionally talking to designers and merchandisers vying for an endorsement and running errands. I do get an unlimited budget to do whatever I please with, because Ashleigh trusts me.

We could do with my salary. Wayne wants to move. He’s come to hate our cozy little shoe box apartment. He doesn't like being in a communal area where anyone can wander in and out and just come and go as they please. He hates the area in general. He keeps bringing home realtor's brochures of houses that he likes but we just can't afford them.

Wayne is on high alert all the time. It seems the less I worry about what happened the more he does. He's constantly sending text messages and calling me. Sometimes it's like being a child. If I'm home late he's calling to find out where I am, how long I'm going to be and if I don't answer there's hell on. What if I'm driving? Would he like me to have an accident?

He'd already taken Ashleigh's word that the job was mine and begun looking at better, nicer, more secure houses for us to buy as soon as the holiday season was over. He insisted we move into a very nice part of California. One that had good schools and a low crime rate. I'm stylist to the stars now, he said. We can't live in a dive. I was more than angry when I found the documents to our new house on the kitchen table. He'd already gone ahead and bought it!

“You weren't interested,” he told me when I asked him why he'd bought a house without consulting me. “You said as long as there was four walls, a roof, it had at least one window and a door and there was room enough for you and me, you didn't care where we lived. You and I being together was what was more important.”

True. I had said that. I had repeatedly said it because we couldn't afford to move out of our apartment before I started working for Ashleigh and he prowled around it like a caged tiger because he didn't think I was safe there anymore. He doesn't think I'm safe anywhere and yet the police psychiatrist said he was handling the targeted attack on his fiancée better than expected.

It's March and we've already moved into the new huge house that Wayne picked out. It has five bedrooms and three bathrooms and there's a separate lounge, kitchen, dining room and a study. We have gardens and a driveway. We even have a garage and a new car, thankfully. I find myself lost in all this space. But Wayne loves it. So if he's happy then I'm happy.

We're having a house warming party. We've invited all of his family and mine. Half of his precinct are here too and our friends. Ash hasn't made it. She's taken a short break from
LA Sunset
, said she was going to hide away on some exotic beach somewhere while she had the chance. Honestly, I'm relieved because Sean and Anna have flown over for the weekend. It's the first time he's been since last July and they both refuse to discuss the other so I'm happy I only have one of them here for the party. I don't think I could host and worry about the two of them coming to blows.

I've been sent up to say goodnight to Stephi, my niece who will be eight years old this coming August. As I push open the door I hear a soft weeping sound from underneath the blanket. “Hey, cupcake,” I whisper. “What's the matter?”

“Daddy won't let me take Luca for a walk or give Ashleigh her birthday present,” she cries.

I’m a little confused. One; Luca is in New York, and living with Sean because Mimi won’t have her at the apartment. And two; why would Stephi have a birthday present for Ashleigh? Even if my brother was going to buy her anything this year, which I seriously doubt, Ashleigh’s birthday isn’t until May. “Luca's in New York, baby, it's too far for you to go to walk her. You'll have to do it when you get home.”

“No,” she cries. “Ashleigh came and took her home last week. She was only with us because baby Macaulay is 'lergic.”

I had no idea Mimi was pregnant until Liv said Mimi had gone into premature labor before Christmas so the shock of the newest addition to the Valentina family, Macaulay, has only just begun to wear off. Although Ashleigh, who acts like she has no sister at the moment, knew about the baby. Of that I’m certain from the way her eyes narrow whenever anyone mentions Mimi and the baby.

It suddenly hits me that Stephi said Ashleigh was in New York last week and not hiding on an exotic beach somewhere remote and away from prying eyes. So where is she? She hasn't returned to LA.

“Well.” I'm puzzled. I never used to feel like Ash could keep anything as important as a trip to New York to visit my brother a secret from me, but ever since she came back to LA she's been more guarded than ever before. “Ashleigh and Luca are on holiday.”

Stephi gives me one of those intelligent half frowny, half contemplative expressions that says she thinks I’m lying but knows she'll get in trouble for pointing it out. “Aunt Julia?”

“Yes, sweetie.” I smile at her.

“Will you give Ashleigh her birthday present? I saved my allowance and then it got lost in the mail and took forever. And then Ashleigh moved and I never got to give it to her. So I brought it with me.”

Air gushes from my lungs and my shoulders deflate. “Sure, cupcake, where is it?” She opens a zip in the teddy bear backpack that she's carried everywhere with her for a few years. She brings out a jewelry box. It's not wrapped up. “Can I have a look?” She nods and I open it. It's a ring, a beautiful chain of blue flowers. “That's so pretty, Stephi. Did you choose it?” I know she has. Sean would never buy Ashleigh jewelry because Anna would be hopping mad. She nods. “Would you like me to wrap it up too?” She grins, nodding enthusiastically as she yawns. “Okay.” I lean in to kiss her again. “Sweet dreams, cupcake.”

As I step out of the room, Anna is hovering just outside the door. I hold the ring box out to her as I say, “I guess you heard most of that?” I expect she didn't know Stephi brought the ring with her. No doubt they'll want to take it back for a refund. It wasn't an expensive looking ring but it didn't look cheap either.

“Yes, thank you. I never know what to say about this.” Her head shakes as she looks over my shoulder and through the crack in the door. “It's so hard you know. My daughter is my husband's mistress's biggest fan.” Anna's eyes darken. “Former mistress,” she corrects herself with a sigh. “For the first time in eight years I don't have to compete for my husband's affections.” For some reason, she doesn't look happy about it. “We're finally being the family we were supposed to be.”

I nod and wonder if things will ever change between Sean and Anna. And how long will they drag this out before they give up? You know, I thought Ash was being a bitch when they had that fight, but she's right. Anna's never made my brother happy. Even on their wedding day he looked like he'd rather be elsewhere. He hadn't looked at her the same way Wayne always looked at me for a really long time. It’s heart breaking to watch them.

I bite my tongue and avoid saying as much. She's too understanding. I'm certain I'd never afford Wayne the same patience and understanding Anna had given Sean if he did the same thing to me. “What do you want me to do with this?” I ask before I say something I'll regret.

She looks at the ring box and shrugs. “It’s Stephi's gift.” She pushes my hand away. “What harm will it do to give it to her now?”

I leave Anna to say goodnight to Stephi and make my way downstairs via our bedroom where Ashleigh’s present will be relatively safe until I see her next week. As I hit the kitchen the aroma of chargrilled beef hits my nostrils and my belly rumbles. I realize I’ve been so busy preparing for our party today that I haven’t eaten since breakfast. While no one wants my attention I stop by the grill and check in on how Wayne is doing commanding the grill and pick up a burger with some cheese and as I reach for the relish I hear a tsk.

I look up and Wayne is staring at me. “What?”

“That’s like your third one.”

I don’t know where he got that idea from. I haven’t had time to stop for food so what is he counting? Fresh air! Sheesh. I roll my eyes and shake my head. Men!

“Babe, don’t do that,” he says gently. “You know I worry about you hanging around Krystal Valentina all day. All those lattes and restaurant lunches have to go somewhere.”

I gasp. “Are you saying I’m getting fat?” He turns over the meat on the grill but he doesn’t reply. “Wayne, that’s an awful thing to say.”

“Babe, it’s really easy to look at Ashleigh, who eats whatever she wants and think hell yeah, but Ashleigh trains for two hours every morning without fail, then she goes out and eats and drinks till her heart’s content and then does another hour in the pool before bed.”

“How do you know this?” It’s been almost five years since they broke up.

“Because we train at the same gym.”

“You do?” I fold my arms across my chest and cock my weight to one of my latte and lunch fattened hips and snap, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d seen her at the gym? How often do you see her? What’s the big secret?”

“As adorable as it is, please don’t pout, precious,” Wayne says, and it only pisses me off more. “It’s not like I speak to her. It’s just that sometimes she’s there when I’m there. Honestly, I thought she’d have mentioned it to you by now. Half the time she doesn’t even acknowledge me.”

I’m less reassured by this because I’m totally absorbed by this image of my husband and my best friend training together and laughing at my growing backside that until now I hadn’t realized had become an issue. I tear off a bit of my cheeseburger and shove it in my mouth, over exaggerate a pleasured hum, and then turn and walk away. Asshole!

I march into the kitchen and slam the paper plate and burger into the bin. I was really looking forward to eating that too. But now the charcoaled meat is unpleasant and tainted with the bitter aftertaste of my husband comparing me to Ashleigh. Come on! How can I ever stand up to one of television’s notorious bad girls?

“Precious?” At the sound of Wayne’s voice I brush away the dampness in my eyes. I don’t want him to know how much he’s upset me because I’m probably over reacting. “Oh, babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says, taking my shoulders in his hands and forcing me to turn around until I face him. “Isn’t it better that you hear something like that from me than read some pretentious style columnist in some fashion magazine refer to you as Krystal’s frumpy friend and so-called stylist?”

He’s right. I’d hate that. But it doesn’t mean I have to like that he’s just called me fat, frumpy and talentless because I’m a ‘so-called stylist.’ Not a real one. Obviously.

Chapter Ten

November 2006

Ashleigh leans across the corner of the table and hisses into my ear, “What the hell is wrong with you?” I stop pushing the champagne cream filled profiteroles around my plate and look up. “Are you sick?”

“I’m fine,” I tell Ashleigh.

“What’s gotten into you?” It’s not like Ashleigh to be discreet about anything but she’s so quiet I can hardly hear her. “I’m serious, Jules, you’ve hardly eaten all night.”

“Nothing,” I reply.

We’re celebrating my birthday at a restaurant which Ashleigh says is LA’s best kept secret. And so far I’d have to agree, despite pushing my food around my plate most of the night. The thing is, I’ve lost my appetite since the dinner conversation traveled towards children, naturally.

Wayne’s three brothers and their wives have four children between them and another on the way. But he’s kept his relatives in the dark as much as possible about the attack last year. So when they asked about our intended family his response was that I am always at work and too busy shopping and getting pampered to start a family. It was intended as a joke, I know it was but… it was at my expense and he’s just blamed me for our delay in producing offspring. Does he think it’s my fault we don’t have children? Maybe I’m just being too sensitive over this.