Past Regrets: Love and Friendship, Book 2 (2 page)

“But you never… Do you see her?” Maggie asked.

“We talk on the phone, and I drop in to see her once or twice a month.” Julia winced. “That sounds heartless, as if I don’t care, but we’ve never been super close. She’s always been busy working or involved with a man.” Usually a different one every month, but she didn’t voice the thought. It seemed disloyal when her record was no better.

Maggie wrinkled her nose. “I’d be the last one to cast stones. My relationship with my parents isn’t worth shouting about. I’m closer to Connor’s parents than mine.”

“What’s the problem?” Susan’s blue eyes held genuine concern. “What can we do to help?”

Julia’s hand tightened around her glass. Afraid of breaking it, she set her wine aside. How would her friends react? “My mother runs a club on Karangahape Road. A strip club.” Julia sucked in a quick breath and scanned her friends’ faces, ready for their responses. She’d heard every variation while growing up and had a smartass cut down for each dirty, snide comment.

“K’ Road? Really?” The pitch of Maggie’s voice rose, clear amusement in the quirk of her lips.

“Is that all you’re gonna say?” Julia demanded.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Susan asked.

“My question exactly,” Christina said. “It’s not a brothel, is it?”

“No!” Julia leapt to her feet, indignation fueling her temper. “It’s purely a strip club. Buck’s nights and that sort of thing. I earned enough money stripping to pay for my education rather than taking out student loans.”

Silence fell. Susan’s mouth dropped open fishlike. Intrigue and silent questions radiated off Christina while Maggie raised her quirk to a smartass grin.

“Any more comments?” Julia asked.

“Well, you trump mine and Connor’s kinky spanking by a country mile,” Maggie said. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“If you had any idea how people treated me while growing up—the teasing and disgusting remarks—you wouldn’t ask that question.”

“Actually, I do understand.” Maggie reached over to squeeze Julia’s hand, her manner serious and more importantly, not passing sentence. “My mother and her scandalous private life made my teenage years hell.”

“We’re not judging you.” Susan tilted her head to the side until she resembled an inquisitive bird. “I’m more intrigued than anything. What’s the problem?”

“Has the economy downturn hurt your mother’s business?” Christina asked.

Julia winced at the sharp hit of guilt. “My mother is struggling to keep ahead of the bank loans, but she needs to have an operation. Her heart isn’t good.”

“And?” Maggie prompted. “How can we help?”

“Mum hired a manager to cover for her, and yesterday he ran off with the week’s takings. The next loan payment is due, and if she can’t pay, the bank is threatening to call in her loan. She’ll lose everything.”

Susan’s brows drew together. “Did she go to the police?”

“Yes, but she said they treated her as a nuisance.”

Her friends fell silent, leaving Julia to her thoughts. She had the money Ryan had given her. She’d intended to throw it back in his face at the first opportunity, once the divorce became final, but maybe this way was better. She’d write her mother a check and tell her it was from her savings to stall awkward questions.

“What time does your mother’s club close?” Christina asked.

“Normally around four in the morning, earlier if there are no customers. Why?”

Christina’s eyes gleamed behind her glasses. “We should visit. It’s a perfect assignment for the Tight Five.” She referred to their group, the name taken from a rugby term where five players bound in a tight formation to face the opposition team. They were like that. Four women and one man—friends—who used to work together at the accountancy firm and who maintained the friendship away from the job.

“A strip club?” Doubt skittered over Susan’s freckled face. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Maggie said. “Christina’s right. This is a Tight Five situation. Well, four anyway since Connor isn’t here.”

“Why?” Julia scanned her friends, studying their expressions. Christina continued to look mischievous. Clear excitement had Maggie beaming in a toothy manner while Susan’s brow knit with plain horror.

Christina made a
tsking
sound at the back of her throat, as if it should be obvious. “So we can come up with an action plan to help your mother, of course.”

“Before Connor gets back,” Maggie reminded them, jumping to her feet. “I’ll order a cab.” She rifled through the contents of her handbag. “Bother, where is my stupid phone?”

“You just want to give Connor a reason to spank you,” Julia said.

“He’s perfectly able to come up with reasons by himself,” Maggie said cheerfully. “I don’t have a single problem with our sex life.”

“Please keep your satisfaction a bit muted,” Christina said in disgust, although naughtiness remained in her eyes. “Some of us don’t have a sex life.”

“Yeah,” Susan said, taking a quick sip of her wine.

“Is there an echo in the room?” Maggie taunted.

“Hell, yeah,” Christina said. “We’re both plain jealous.”

Susan gave an emphatic nod. “Damn straight we are.”

Julia picked up a carrot stick and crunched down, not bothering to voice her opinion. A sex life was more trouble than anything. Every time she thought of sex, she thought of Ryan, and she didn’t need a reminder of the rat, thank-you-very-much. The last failure in a long line of sexy bad boys—man could she pick ’em.

“Julia?” Christina waved her hands in an attempt to get her attention.

Julia’s head jerked and she blinked. “What?”

Maggie stabbed her cell phone with her forefinger. “The cab will be here in ten minutes. Drink lively, ladies.”

Julia found herself swept from Maggie’s apartment in a determined storm of friends. They piled into the cab, a bit tipsy from margaritas and wine.

“Give the driver the address, Julia,” Christina said.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Susan asked.

“Think of it this way, Susan,” Maggie said. “When you’re at the
Farmer Wants a Wife
interviews, you’ll have something novel to discuss with your farmer.”

“I won’t get past the first round,” Susan said.

“Then I’m gonna beat your ass,” Christina announced, almost crowing. “Because I intend to go all the way, baby. I’m gonna score me a sexy-hot farmer husband.”

Susan opened and closed her mouth. “Dang, I’m slipping. I’m doing that negative, judgmental thing again.” She took a deep breath. “This will be a fun adventure. Does anyone have a notebook? I can take notes so we don’t forget anything.”

“How long since you stripped, Julia?” Maggie asked from the front seat.

“I haven’t done any since I finished my secretarial courses.” She glared at the driver when his gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. “I didn’t need to work for my mother once I graduated and found a job.”

And she couldn’t wait to get away from the score of
uncles
who paraded through her mother’s bedroom. The touchy feely ones had scared her, but she was uncomfortably aware she’d inherited her mother’s appalling lack of judgment when it came to men. Now it seemed her mother might be moving on to women.

Welcome to my crazy world
.

Maggie twisted in the front seat in order to see her friends clearly. “Can you show me a routine or two? I think Connor would enjoy a private strip show.”

“You’re talking about sex again,” Christina accused.

Maggie giggled, and Julia’s heart twisted, a jagged sensation, almost like a sharp blow to the chest. It left her breathless, aching and so alone. While she was pleased for Maggie and Connor, it was painful to see their happiness when she and Ryan… She shook herself, cutting off the thought abruptly. Not. Going. There.

Thankfully, the cab pulled up in front of her mother’s club. Maggie took care of the fare while the rest of the group climbed out.

“Whoa.” Susan gaped at two women in full war paint. With exaggerated hip-swagger, they strutted past in their skimpy skirts and matching tops, their heels
tap-tapping
on the footpath. “I need to work on an attitude like that.”

Familiarity seized Julia, the sense of coming home, even though she’d hated living here. The faint throb of a rock ballad seeped through the windows of a flat above a shop farther down the street. Her gaze took in the laughing people waiting for entrance to the new club—another one in opposition to her mother’s. The line snaked along the edge of the building and halfway down the next block.

“Watch out,” Maggie said, flinging out her arm to stop Julia’s progress.

Julia looked down and grimaced. Someone had lost their dinner. She stepped around the smelly pile of vomit. “Do you still want to do this?”

Susan linked her arm with Julia’s and grinned. It was a trifle ragged on the edges, but it qualified as a grin. “Yes. Maggie and Christina aren’t going to change their minds. I need an adventure to jerk me out of my rut, so you’re stuck with us on this mission.”

Julia hoped her friends didn’t regret their enthusiasm. She steeled herself and headed for the front door of her mother’s club—
The Last Frontier
. Not a single person jostled for entry.

“Ladies.” An aging security guard stood to attention when he saw them. His white shirt strained over his belly, but he looked sharp with crisply pressed black trousers and black shoes that glistened even in the sparse foyer lighting.

“Hi, Stan,” Julia said. “How are you? How are the kids?”

Stan peered at her for an instant and broke into a delighted grin. “Julia, I didn’t recognize you. You’re so grown up now. Long time no see.” He wrapped her in a tight embrace. The scents of tobacco, laundry powder and a hint of Old Spice wafted to her and brought a second flash from the past. Aware of another bout of tears threatening, she pulled away. “Stan, these are my friends Maggie, Christina and Susan. Stan used to supervise me after school when Mum was busy with the club. He made sure I did my homework and was strict about it too. I never got away with anything.”

“Not true,” Stan said with a fond grin. “She used to wind me around her little finger.”

“Ah,” Christina said. “So that’s your fault. She’s still managing the males around her.”

Julia turned away, swallowing the lump constricting her throat. Ryan had burrowed into her heart like a parasitic worm, and she hadn’t managed him at all. Not a bit. She forced a smile to her lips, aiming for one that declared she was a competent adult and in complete control. “How’s Mum?”

Stan shook his head, his dark brows drawing together. “Not so good. All the stress isn’t good for her heart. If I ever see that rat manager I’ll wring his neck. Bloody thief, if you’ll pardon my French.”

“We’ve come to help,” Susan said.

“Good. Elise needs help, no matter how much she refutes it,” Stan said. “Go right in, ladies.”

“Is it busy tonight?” Julia asked.

A gusty sigh escaped him. “Business is bad this year. The new club down the street has stolen most of our customers. They seem to have a line outside for most of the night.”

Christina nudged Maggie. “We’ll need to check the competition out too.”

Julia shook her head a fraction, although she didn’t attempt verbal dissent. Once an idea wriggled into their heads, her friends became an unstoppable force. Tight Five, indeed.

“How is tomorrow night for you? Since it’s Friday, Connor will be able to come with us,” Maggie said. “He’s playing rugby on Saturday afternoon and won’t be drinking. He can be our designated driver.”

“It sounds as if our adventure is going to be a big one,” Susan murmured to Julia.

“Yeah.” Julia wasn’t sure whether to strangle or hug her friends. “I hope you have a thick notepad.” She pushed through the internal double doors leading into the club.

The smoke she recalled from her younger years was a thing of the past due to the anti-smoking laws. Instead, a combination of alcohol, body odor and strong aftershave greeted her. Her nose wrinkled at the stale atmosphere, and imaginary cooties jumped on to her arms and legs, slithering along her flesh.

“Susan,” she said crisply. “Make a note. We need to do something with the air conditioning.” They were here now, and she might as well act on her friends’ suggestion. Put together an action plan. Even if her mother decided to sell, she’d need to do a few improvements to attract a buyer.

“It’s very…ah…interesting,” Maggie said, after a quick glance around the cavernous interior.

“Don’t bother with tact,” Julia said, taking in the tired décor and carpet stained by numerous drunk and clumsy customers. “It’s even worse than I remember.”

The red velvet furnishings bore patches, the repairs even more noticeable because of the lack of customers. Up on the stage a young woman with long, chemical-blonde hair and a bored expression went through a lackluster routine. Her jaw worked a piece of gum. That, at least, matched the beat of the music. The song trailed off, and the woman stalked off the stage. Not one man attempted to give her a tip. Not surprising given her second-rate performance.

“We do have our work cut out for us,” Christina said in woeful understatement.