by Ward, Alice
In a world of increasingly open floorplans, Deacon and Gale had chosen to keep the original layout of their townhouse. The front door opened into a formal entryway. A staircase took up the right wall while a hallway led to the ground floor rooms. I passed the empty living area and guestroom and wandered into the kitchen. The backdoor was open and I found Claire barefoot in the garden.
“Hey,” I called out to her. “Smells like I picked a good time to drop by.”
“Hey, Lauren,” she beamed back at me. “I must have stepped out as you were stepping in. I have the day off, so I’m experimenting with a few new recipes. How does a mint chocolate croissant sound to you?” she asked, holding up a fresh sprig of peppermint.
“With the week I’m having, I’ll take a dozen,” I replied, my voice grave. Claire frowned and I immediately felt guilty. My friend was doing so well after her breakup and I hated to be the reason her smile disappeared.
“What’s going on?” she asked, making her way toward me. We stepped back into the kitchen and I settled in on a barstool. Claire tossed the mint into a battered copper colander and ran it under the kitchen faucet.
“I take it there’s some trouble in paradise?” she pressed.
“Yeah.” I dropped my face in my hands and rubbed my eyes. “You could put it that way. You could also say that paradise was never more than an illusion.”
Claire turned off the water and sighed. “Uh oh. This sounds like the kind of talk that requires wine. Do you want red or white?”
“Surprise me.”
Claire pulled two mismatched wine glasses from the cabinet and filled them with rose from a box in the fridge. I drank my first glass with one swallow and refilled it myself.
Rachel and the money had been missing for three days. Kennedy was only able to spend one night in California before returning to Boston. I’d been working around the clock to cover my job and Rachel’s while Asher continued to give me the silent treatment. Without a word, he’d moved into the guestroom and set up a command center for his efforts to find Rachel and clear her name. He didn’t try to speak to me and I returned the favor. Neither of us was willing to break first and the standoff was getting to be too much to bare.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you, Claire,” I warned.
She nodded. “I know there are things about Asher’s past that you’ve kept to yourself,” she reminded me.
“I know, and I feel terrible talking about it now. But I feel like I’m going crazy, Claire. Everything is wrong and I don’t know how to fix any of it. I hate bothering you with my problems. You’ve had more than your fair share of heartache lately. And now that you’re feeling better—”
“Lauren, you’re rambling,” Claire interrupted me. She sat down on the stool across from me, giving me her full attention.
“We’ve been best friends since we were eight. If you need to talk, I’m here to listen. That’s how this works, remember?” she said softly. “Just tell me what’s going on. Nothing you say will leave this room.”
I finished my second glass of wine, took a deep breath, and spilled every secret I’d been keeping. She listened patiently and didn’t speak until I was finished.
“I’m so glad you’ve been able to talk to Kennedy,” she said when I finally moved for more wine.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I replied, suddenly aware that she could be hurt I’d confided in someone else.
Claire immediately waved off my apology. “Don’t be silly. I completely understand. This is some serious shit, Lauren. This is the type of story you see on TV, not the type you’re supposed to live out. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you told me. And I’m happy you know you can trust me this much. But I get that you probably shouldn’t have told me.”
“Well now that I have, do you have any advice?” I asked.
“Let me think about it,” she replied, scooting off her stool. The oven timer echoed through the kitchen and Claire pulled on mitts, retrieving a pan of cinnamon rolls from the oven.
“Those smell heavenly,” I observed, my mouth suddenly wet.
“I played with the spice blend a little,” she explained. “Give them a few minutes to cool and then you can be the first to try one.”
Claire returned to her stool and studied me for a moment.
“I have a few questions. But if you can’t answer, I’ll understand.”
“Ask away,” I insisted.
Claire took a deep breath and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Kennedy found proof that Rachel lied to Asher. But Asher refuses to entertain any mention of it. Do you think it’s really because he trusts her so much? Or do you think there’s a chance that he already knows the truth, he just doesn’t want you to know he knows?”
Damn it. I hadn’t even thought of that. I’ve given Asher the same level of blind trust he’s giving Rachel. I know she doesn’t deserve it. Does he?
“I guess it’s definitely possible that Asher’s still keeping something from me,” I admitted, my heart sinking with every word.
“It would certainly explain the way he’s acting. But at the same time, I can’t think of anything he could possibly admit that’s worse than what I already know. And I haven’t given him any reason to keep anything from me.”
“Maybe he has his own reasons,” Claire suggested softly. “You’re right. He’s already confessed to killing Miguel. There’s not much worse he could admit to. But maybe he’s hiding something less drastic. Maybe it’s more of a personal pride issue than some scandalous new detail. Or maybe, he’s telling you everything and he truly believes Rachel’s in danger. The only way you’re ever going to figure it out is if one of you breaks the silence.”
“I know,” I agreed with a sigh. “I didn’t think it would go on this long. But I hate the idea of giving in first. I didn’t do anything wrong, Claire. In fact, it looks more and more like my hunch was right. The way Asher snapped at me and then shut me out was completely out of line. And the last thing I want to do is let this become a habit.”
“I’m not saying you have to apologize, Lauren. I don’t think it would be a terrible idea for you to stay here for a while. But you can’t get to the bottom of anything until you talk to him.”
I considered her words for a moment. During our flight to London, Asher had asked me to officially move in and I’d agreed. Neither of us had mentioned it since. Given our current situation, it made more sense for me to stay at the townhouse. But it felt like a defeat I wasn’t quite ready for.
“I’ll stay here tonight, but only because I’m going to keep drinking your wine,” I announced. “I’ll go to Asher’s after work tomorrow and attempt to talk to him. Maybe I’ll get some clarity and figure out the next right thing to do.”
“That sounds like the best idea you’ve had all day,” Claire agreed. “I’m going to ice these rolls and then roll out the croissants. If you’d like an actual meal, I have some pasta and the garden is still loaded with veggies.”
“Are you kidding me? That would ruin my appetite for the pastries,” I replied with a laugh. “These really do smell amazing. Where’s this newfound love of baking come from?”
Claire shrugged and a slight blush crossed her cheeks. “It’s just a hobby I’ve developed over the last few years. It started as a way to spoil Royce. But there’s something about cooking that just calms me. I guess you could call it my creative outlet. You have your paints and canvases. I have spices and saucepans.”
She smothered a roll with thick cream cheese icing and passed it to me. I devoured it in two bites, washing it down with the cold wine.
“That’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” I confessed in a daze. “You should be working in a restaurant, Claire.”
Her blush deepened and she looked away sheepishly. “Do you really think so?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Of course I think so,” I insisted. I had a feeling she was holding something back.
“Wha
t’s going on, Claire?” I pressed softly.
“I’ve been thinking about a career change,” she confessed. “It sort of makes sense. Everything else in my life is upside down and backwards. If I’m going to leave the office, now feels like the time to do it.”
“Do you have any leads on restaurant jobs?”
She shook her head. “I’m actually thinking of something a little different. I’d like to try my hand at running my own catering company. I have a little money saved. And I’m sure I can get a small loan. Do you think Deacon would mind if I ran the business from here? Just until I can afford to rent something.”
“I think he’d love the idea,” I assured her. “I love the idea. I want to help. I’m not worth a damn when it comes to food. But I can help with your logo and marketing materials. And Asher has enough contacts to make you the most sought after chef in the city. I bet we could hold one event and line up enough customers to keep you in business for life.”
“You really don’t think I’m crazy?” she asked, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
“To be fair, I’m probably the last person who should be judging anyone’s sanity at the moment,” I reminded her. “But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that you deserve your shot at being happy. So crazy or not, I’m in your corner.”
“Thanks, Lauren. You have no idea how much that means to me. Now, if you’re spending the night, you may as well make yourself comfortable. I moved my things into the guestroom. I figured it made more sense for you to have the room across from the studio, even if you aren’t here much. Help yourself to some of my pj’s and fill Asher in on your plans. When you get back, you can help me experiment with the mint.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed.
I slid off the barstool and made my way to Claire’s bedroom. I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent Asher a text, letting him know that I was spending the night with Claire. I rummaged through a dresser drawer and found a pair of stretchy yoga pants and one of our old high school t-shirts. My phone chimed while I changed. I tugged the shirt over my head and read Asher’s underwhelming reply.
“K”
K? Jesus Asher, could it have killed you to type out the whole fucking word? It’s not like you needed to conserve characters for the rest of your message. There’s nothing as painfully dismissive as the “K” reply. I’d almost rather be ignored.
I took a deep breath and calmed myself, resisting the urge to fire off a reply. Asher and I hadn’t spoken in days. As tempting as it was, I knew better than to make things worse with a wine fueled, snarky text message. Instead, I extended an olive branch.
“Remember I love you.”
I hit send, tossed my phone on the bed, and set off for the kitchen without waiting for Asher’s reply.
CHAPTER 2
My night with Claire left me clear headed and surprisingly optimistic. I was amazed by her ability to roll with the punches and rebuild her life. I had no idea what the future held, but I felt better prepared to face it.
I spent the first half of my day juggling meetings between artists, investigators, and board members. With Asher out of the office, Brian was officially in charge. But everyone knew I was Asher’s girlfriend and they flocked to my office, demanding answers. Only a handful of the employees knew exactly what was going on. Others had learned varying degrees of the truth. I did my best to keep everyone calm while feigning ignorance to the chaos around us.
When lunch time rolled around, I decided to take a break and visit Asher. I had a stack of paperwork for him to sign, but I was also eager to end the silence between us. He’d replied to my last text with a simple “I love you too.” I took it as a sign that he was ready to talk. My hope was short lived when I arrived at the house and found Asher, Parker, and Detective Austin huddled around the dining table. They tensed in unison as I pushed through the front door. Parker and Detective Austin relaxed when they spotted me; Asher’s face flushed red.
“Lauren, what are you doing here? Is everything okay at the office?” he asked, his voice rushed.
“Everything’s fine,” I assured him, lifting a manila folder from my shoulder bag. I held it up to him and then dropped it on the kitchen island.
“I need your signature on these so I can push the new orders through. Merritt finally understands the new protocols, so I thought I’d take advantage and have an actual lunch. I didn’t realize you were in the middle of something…”
“It’s okay,” Parker insisted. I could tell by her tone that she was relieved to see me. “Detective Austin and I had news to share with Asher. He’s less than thrilled with us. Maybe you can help him see reason.”
My stomach turned and all thoughts of lunch left my mind.
Good God. What’s happened now? How much worse does this have to get before we catch a break?
I searched Asher’s face, looking for any sign that he actually wanted to talk to me. He let out a resigned sigh, gave me a slight nod, and dropped his eyes to the chair across from him. I grabbed a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator and sat down at the table.
Asher cleared his throat. “Detective, I’ll let you explain what happened,” he directed, the order coming out like a bark. The police officer cringed and then met my eye.
“As you know, we issued an all-points bulletin on Rachel the day after she disappeared.”
“Yes,” I agreed with a slow nod.
“Her picture went out across the country. This morning, a member of the Goins family contacted the LAPD. One of Rachel’s cousins is now an officer in Wisconsin. He saw her picture and alerted her parents. They’re planning to hold a press conference this evening and intend to offer a large financial reward to anyone with information about Rachel’s whereabouts,” he explained, tension growing in his voice with every word.
Asher clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. He opened his mouth, but Parker spoke up before he could comment.
“As we’ve explained to Asher, this is a positive development,” she insisted. “The family has been very forthcoming with Rachel’s medical history. Rachel has suffered from a personality disorder since she was a toddler. The family readily admits that they were ill equipped to deal with her. They were alerted when Rachel disappeared from protective custody and they’ve been looking for her ever since.”
I searched Asher’s eyes and for the first time, I felt like he finally saw the truth. I reached across the table and took him by the hand.
“I think Parker is right, Ash. It’s good that the Goins are involved.”
He shook his head defiantly. “Maybe they’re good people. Maybe Rachel lied about them. But they can’t hold a press conference. She doesn’t want to see them. If she really did run away on her own, which I’m still not convinced of, knowing her family is looking for her will just drive her deeper into hiding. And if I’m right and someone has her, they’ll just see her family as another source of quick cash. Not to mention the fact that they’re about to expose our identities. How long do you think it will take the Chavez family to find me once Cynthia Goins’s family announces her new name on the nightly news?”
Shit, shit, shit. I didn’t think about that.
I looked to Parker, my eyes full of panic. “He’s right. We can’t let them talk. What do we have to do to keep them from talking?”
“There’s nothing we can do,” she replied with a shrug. “I could try to arrange a meeting. I haven’t spoken to them myself, but from what I’ve heard, they seem like reasonable people. We can plead our case and see how they respond. But if they choose to talk, I can’t stop them.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but make the call and see if they’ll talk to me,” Asher insisted. “I can go to them or I can fly them here. I’ll do whatever they want. Please, just stress how important it is that they stay silent until they’ve had a chance to hear me out.”
Parker nodded and slid out of her seat. Her heels clicked against the tile floors as she made her way to Ash
er’s home office. Asher turned to Detective Austin, who cringed again and fidgeted with his ink pen.
“Detective Austin seems to think that it may be in my best interest to come forward with my identity,” Asher announced.
“Surely it hasn’t come to that,” I argued.
Detective Austin frowned. “At this point, it’s a matter of when, not if,” he warned. “The more people who know the truth, the harder it will be to contain. We have no idea who the Goins family may have already spoken to. We have no idea who Rachel may be speaking to. There are too many variables for us to assume that we can protect this secret much longer.”
“Which is exactly why I didn’t want to get you involved in the first place,” Asher finished with a deep exhale.
A small part of me felt guilty for encouraging Asher to hire Kennedy and take her advice. But another, much larger part of me knew I’d done the right thing. Short of disappearing, playing by the rules was our best shot of staying safe. And Asher’s safety was all that mattered to me. I didn’t care who got hurt or what secrets were exposed in the process.
“I know this is terrible, baby. But there’s no way we could have dealt with all of this on our own.”
Asher took a deep breath and arched his back, stretching his shoulders as he turned his neck from side to side.
“I know,” he agreed. “It’s just so damn hard.”
I could tell he had more to say, but after throwing another glance at Detective Austin, Asher closed his mouth again. My phone chimed and I realized it was probably past time for me to go back to the office.
“I should get going,” I announced, rising to my feet. I grabbed the folder from the island and passed it to Asher.
“If you’ll sign these really quick, I’ll process the orders as soon as I get back to the office. I have a meeting with production this afternoon and I promised Merritt and Shawna that I’d stay late to look over a few of their new designs.”
Asher took a pen from the table and signed the forms without reading them. He stuffed them back into the folder and rose to his feet.
