Blurred Lines (Behind Closed Doors Book 2) (9 page)

But I'm not always at work. He won't let me be at work all the time. He hounds me until Liv tells me I'd better go home. And sometimes he drives to Ashleigh's house, where Liv and I work mainly from, and he waits for me to finish work.

As for getting pampered, I can't believe he's still pissed Ashleigh took me to a beauty salon and spa three weeks ago for a girly pamper day. By way of an apology for something she did that caused a few arguments between Wayne and me. It’s the same place Ashleigh has been primped and polished weekly since she returned to LA and where the stylist who’s been styling her hair for twenty years is based. He’s fabulous, told me I should go blonde too, so I did. But Wayne is pissed and I don’t think he likes it.

You know, I think Wayne's forgotten Ashleigh is also my best friend as well as my boss. Shouldn't I get time with her outside of work too?

“I’m just watching my weight, that’s all.” I fake a smile for the benefit of the others around the table. It’s only half a lie. I’ve been on a strict calories controlled diet since March and there must be my daily calorific intake in one of these tasty little babies and after a rich mushroom soup made with mascarpone cheese and cream, and then steak with a creamy peppercorn sauce, I really don’t want to indulge in more than one of these chef’s secret recipe profiteroles, which I’m certain from the two half eaten profiterole pyramids in the center of our table is the only reason Ashleigh decided on this restaurant for my birthday. She’s eaten at least a dozen and still helping herself to more.

“Are you serious?” She grips my thigh under the table, which forces me to look directly into her eyes. “What are you? Like a hundred pounds. That’s nothing.”

Actually, I’m one-ten, but I don’t have opportunity to correct her. Wayne interrupts. “You know, ladies, there’s a whole table of other people who came to celebrate Julia’s birthday.”

I’m happy for an excuse to avoid this conversation with Ashleigh. Sure, she works out every day, but her hard slog has nothing to do with maintaining a svelte figure and everything to do with doing something she loves. But instead of letting the topic slide and letting me return my attention to my guests, Ashleigh scowls at Wayne. “Excuse us a minute?” She stands up. “We have to freshen up.”

She grabs my hand and practically yanks my arm from its socket as she drags me away from the table full of Wayne’s family. My parents, Sean and Anna haven’t flown over because Sean’s in a spot of bother over a story he’s recently been investigating and was arrested earlier in the week.

Instead of going into the restroom, Ashleigh takes a sharp detour out the fire escape. I find myself in a dark alley with very little street lighting. A lot of dumpsters and God knows what, or who, is hiding back here and that makes me nervous. “Ash, we should go back inside.”

In the last year or so there have been three bodies found in the alleyways behind nightclubs in downtown LA. The only thing Wayne will tell me is that they're all girls and they think it's the same perpetrator. He’s really nervous about this guy. He keeps sending messages to check in with me and they’ve gone through the roof since the last girl was found.

He complains when I leave for work on my own. He has a massive problem with the fact that I work for Krystal Valentina. If her celebrity status wasn’t enough, Ashleigh's onscreen character is rapidly becoming the most hated woman in Soap Land because the current storyline involves Ashleigh scheming to take down the soap's hottest male character, who just happens to be acted by Dex Leighton.

It's been over a year since Dex was caught sleeping with another woman behind Ashleigh's back, but the whole thing has been dragged back up since their characters began an onscreen rivalry. And the fans with a short grasp on reality believe Ashleigh's out for revenge. It began with general naming calling and progressed to verbal abuse, but four weeks ago Ashleigh ended up dislocating a fan’s shoulder after they attacked her from behind.

It caused all kinds of excitement in the media about how she’d ‘over reacted.’ If there wasn’t CCTV footage proving Ashleigh reacted in self-defense I’m sure she would have been charged for assault. Instead, Ashleigh’s father and lawyer insisted no charges should be brought on the fan, made Ashleigh apologize, and furthermore, compensated the fan for their loss of earnings, medical expenses and the stress caused by the injury. She’s furious the whole thing has been spun around so that somehow she was to blame when they attacked her!

I was with her when it happened and the press attention on me as a witness was a little unbearable until the whole thing blew over. But now Wayne doesn’t think I’m safe with her, or anywhere near her, even though her dad has employed a team of bodyguards to stop the whole thing from happening again. I’ve been singled out by the media as Krystal’s stylist and close friend, which brought a number of contacts and job offers my way. I didn’t accept any of them because Wayne quite rightly said they’re just using me to get dirt on Krystal, otherwise, if they were interested in my talents as a stylist, they’d have been in touch before. But he likes Ashleigh even less now than he did before and it's the first time they’ve been in the same place since it happened. To say their interaction tonight has been icy would be a massive understatement.

“Julia.” Ashleigh draws my attention back to the dark and dingy alleyway. My eyes dart around our cavernous surroundings. Wayne won’t like it that we’re here. In fact, he’ll be pretty pissed about it if he finds out. “Are you serious about this weight thing? Because you’re nothing but skin and bones.”

“You can’t possibly understand,” I tell her. “You cram in as many profiteroles filled with champagne cream and oozing with rich chocolate sauce as your stomach will allow and you don’t care who’s watching or to which part of your anatomy it’s going to. You’ve never had to worry about your weight in your life.”

“Why would people give a damn about what I eat?” She looks unconvinced by my argument. Then she stops. “Wait, are you saying people watch what I eat so they can talk about weight problems I don’t have? Oh for Christ’s sake!” She rolls her eyes as she shakes her head. For a moment, I think the disparaging remark is meant for me until she says, “I should bloody know better. Of course they are, because someone like me can’t possibly have a healthy appetite and strict exercise regime without having an eating disorder.”

She curses again before she gathers my hands in hers. “Are you bothered by the attention you had last month? Is that what this is about? People know who you are and what you do and you’re worried they’ll be as critical with you as they are with me?” I don’t reply. “They won’t, I’m promise. The only time you’ll ever get that kind of attention again is if you do something spectacularly noteworthy, like making me stand out as the brightest star on the red carpet, and since I have no intention of ever stepping on another red carpet for as long as I live, you’ll be fine.”

I don’t know whether I’m more disturbed that my career rests on Ashleigh’s stubborn desire to never attend another premiere or award ceremony, or relieved that the whole charade last month is likely to be a once in a lifetime experience. “Besides, Jules, you’re gorgeous. Inside and out.” She smiles. “You must be gorgeous if a fairly unusual and rugged yet sophisticated and modern guy picked you over me.”

Did she just compliment my husband? Oh my… and it was some compliment from a woman who hates him.

“Even if he can be a bloody Neanderthal at times,” she hisses, ending a very short-lived moment of surprise.

That’s more like it.

“Pfft,” she continues, “why can’t he give up his career and become a stay at home dad? I mean, you earn more money by far, and you have better benefits. Why does it have to be your fault that you two haven’t started a family yet? It takes two, doesn’t it?”

Instantly, the warm glow she’d just provided for me dies as the conversation returns to making babies. Wayne and I have never discussed having a family since he told me he wanted me more than he wanted to have children. I sometimes wonder why we even bother with birth control but we've never changed our routine. I guess maybe we didn't want to acknowledge the truth or risk a baby we're not ready for. I mean, it's near on impossible for us to get pregnant but it's not actually impossible.

“Is it true?” she asks. “Am I taking up too much of your time?” I hesitate as she begins to ramble. “Please tell me the truth. I don’t need you to do as much as you do, especially from my house.” As much as she tries to hide her anxiety over this situation, her hands start to shake. “I never want to come between you and Wayne, Jules, and if that’s the case, you could work from home.”

My life would be so much easier if I admit to her that she’s frequently a problem for Wayne and me. But I don’t. And I don’t because I suddenly realize that the problem is not Ashleigh, per se, it’s a problem between Wayne and I that we need to address. But somehow, I know the only solution to it is to not have Ashleigh in my life at all. “Honestly, I have no idea where that remark came from.”

“When you decide you want a family, Jules, you must tell me,” she whispers. “I'll get you whatever you need, the best doctors, the best OB/GYN, I promise. I will make sure your stuff and his stuff will have the best chance of making you the baby you deserve, babies you deserve. Of course you'll have as many as you want.”

I hesitate. Obviously, she’s forgotten that my brother’s wife is an OB/GYN who specializes in high risk pregnancies and is now earning herself a reputation as one of the best in New York. If we ever decide to go down the difficult road of parenthood, I’d choose Anna.

Ashleigh wraps her arms around my shoulders and squeezes me so tight I can barely breathe. “You'll make the best mommy ever, Jules,” she whispers.

The fact that my best friend snaps her fingers and gets exactly what she wants amuses me. She makes everything in this world look and sound so simple. “And if that means you want to be a stay at home mom...” She sighs as if acknowledging she'll be giving up something much more than just my services as an employee. “I won't argue with you. I promise.”

I feel mildly better with this agreement. It's difficult being the tug of war rope between my husband and my best friend. But she always lets go of her end first. That's the way it should be, isn't it? My priority is my husband.

“Julia?” Wayne’s silhouette blocks what little light we had from the restaurant’s fire escape. I feel his anger rolling off him like waves. He's a little sharp with us. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Ashleigh had something to say.”

“So you drag my wife into a darkened alleyway, where anything could happen to her?” he snaps at Ashleigh. “This is the exact reason I don’t like her going anywhere with you. What if someone had attacked her?”

Ashleigh starts to laugh. “Really?” she asks. “Think about who you’re talking to, Wayne.”

“You’re not invincible, Ashleigh, and you have no regard for anyone else’s safety because you think you are.” He turns his attention to me and snaps, “And you, you’re married to a homicide detective, you should know better to do something as senseless as stand in a dark alley in the middle of the night.”

For the first time I see the super bitch rear up and it's frightening. She pulls her entire body upright. She's almost six feet tall in heels and her chest fills with air and her eyes darken. She steps towards Wayne.

“Is it necessary that you speak to Julia like that?”

“Like what?” he asks innocently.

“Honestly, Wayne, the indirect insults and the sly remarks. You don't even realize how much you've upset Julia by being such a moron. Especially tonight. It’s her birthday.”

Wayne looks at me and I look away. I hate when she's acts more like her diva persona than my best friend. I know she means well but what if I don't want Wayne to know he's upset me tonight? What if I don't want to argue with him on my birthday? And she’s just contradicted everything she’s just promised about not coming between us because now it's inevitable. We have to argue this out tonight because Wayne sulking about her for days is a whole lot worse than arguing on my birthday. It’s unbearable.

“You know something, Wayne,” Ashleigh continues without a second thought to what happens after she leaves us. “You're an ass—” She abruptly stops and then looks at me with a sigh. “I know.” The second sigh is filled with disappointment. “I’m sorry, but he’s pissed me off talking to you like you’re his property rather than his wife.”

Honestly, I don’t know what her problem is. Sure he’s in a mood because I’ve been neglecting his family by ‘powdering my nose’ for so long he’s had to come find me, but he’s acting no different to the way he does normally when he’s pissed over something.

“Look, I think its best all around if I go, otherwise I’ll only say something I'll regret.” She kisses my cheek and then as though she’s proving a point to Wayne, she walks down the dark alleyway.

“Tell me again why she’s your friend?”

His remark seems so lighthearted that I playfully remind him, “Once upon a time she was you’re girlfriend.”

He pulls a face that seems to plead with me not to. “Yes, but I saw sense, what’s your excuse?” The playful vibe evaporates so quickly I question whether it was there at all. “Come on, my family are waiting to sing happy birthday to you,” he says, opening the door. “We’ll talk about this later.”

He waits for me to go back inside ahead of him and when I chance a look at his expression in the light of the corridor, I see how angry he really is. His foul mood lingers over the rest of my birthday celebrations. He tries to hide it but the joyous atmosphere that preceded Ashleigh’s brief interlude disappears and each couple disappear one by one almost immediately after the waitress brings out the gorgeous birthday cake topped with twenty seven candles. We’re the last to leave and as soon as we stand up the waitress scurries along with the check for several hundred dollars. Wayne just scowls at me as he hands over his bank card because Ashleigh had promised the meal was her treat and Wayne could invite his entire family as far as she was concerned.