Girls' Night Out_A Novel

by Liz Fenton

  “Whatever,” Lauren muttered, and dove under, coming back up quickly and slicking her hair back behind her ears. “I do feel better, though. I will give you that.”

  “Have you ever come up with an amazing idea or a solution to a problem while in the bathtub or shower?” Marco asked, looking at Lauren.

  “Not that I can recollect,” Lauren said, floating on her back, kicking lightly to move farther out into the ocean, deciding she’d had enough of Marco and his theories for one day. He’d already gone on and on about some asteroid that had apparently hit Tulum sixty-six million years ago. When she came upright again, she heard Ashley declaring that she’d thought of the BloBrush tagline, Blow (on) me, while shampooing her hair.

  Marco’s eyes twinkled. “That’s clever.”

  “Thanks,” Ashley said. “Maybe if I stay in this ocean long enough I’ll think of a way to solve all of my problems.”

  Lauren turned to see Natalie’s reaction. She was still quietly registering irritation.

  When Lauren and Natalie headed toward the beach, Marco and Ashley stayed in the ocean, drifting to the left, the current pulling them away while locked in conversation. Soon they were so far down that Lauren could barely make them out.

  “This isn’t how I saw the trip going,” Lauren said finally.

  Natalie rolled her eyes as she got up to rearrange her towel. “Me either. Do you think we need to be worried about that?” She cocked her head in the direction of the two specks that were Ashley and Marco.

  “You would know better than me,” Lauren said, pulling her hat lower on her face. She’d promised Annie she’d be careful not to get burned, Annie having lectured her once when they’d gone to the pool and Lauren hadn’t reapplied sunscreen after swimming. It was sweet how much she cared. Ashley used to encourage Lauren to use tanning oil and would wake her up only after her skin was flaming red.

  “I think we should keep an eye on it,” Natalie said, her tone surprising Lauren. “Because, let’s face it, she doesn’t always know what’s best for her, does she?” Before Lauren could answer, Natalie reached into her bag, pulling out a bottle of sunscreen. “Your shoulders are getting a little pink. You’d better reapply.”

  “Thanks.” Lauren took it from her and squirted the liquid into her hands. “You know, it’s been really nice to spend some time with you on this trip.”

  “It has, hasn’t it?” Natalie said, pushing her sunglasses onto her head. “I’m sorry it took so long. I’ve thought of you so often.”

  “Then why didn’t you call?” Lauren asked, not unkindly. She’d spent so much time wondering. Questioning why she hadn’t picked up the phone either.

  Natalie adjusted her sundress nervously. “That’s a good question. You were so upset at the funeral. I just thought maybe it was easier to let you cool off. But then one month turned into two, which became a year. And here we are,” she said sadly.

  Lauren understood. She had told herself she’d be ready to forgive, and then the feeling would come and go. Annie had finally pointed out that the person she was most upset with was never coming back: Geoff.

  Geoff had been constantly at odds with himself—the light within him at war with the dark. Stuck between the person he was, a man whose temper flared hot and hard, and the person he strived to be, a caring and peaceful husband. That had been the most difficult thing to accept: that the hope Geoff could change, a notion Lauren had clung to for years, would now never come to fruition. That all of Lauren’s bruises would fade, as would the memory of how she got each one, a twist of an arm, a push into a wall, a hurl onto the hard floor. Yes, she understood that the notion was crazy that a controlling, physically abusive man could change. But it was the one thing that had kept Lauren going until his death.

  She looked at Natalie. Sweet Natalie, who had always revered Ashley as much as Lauren did. Until now. Now the axis of power seemed to be tilted, and it felt odd. They’d wrapped so much of themselves around Ashley for so long—did they have a strong enough friendship to stand on its own?

  “It’s okay,” Lauren said. “We have right now. So let’s make the best of it.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE DAY AFTER

  NATALIE

  As Natalie made her way up the concrete steps to apartment 4, which according to the slip of paper in her hand was Marco’s place, she felt a sense of déjà vu. She gripped the wooden railing to steady herself and looked up at the heavy cedar beams and thatched roof, hoping it meant her memory was coming back. She closed her eyes and willed those thoughts that were just beyond the periphery of her mind to present themselves. But when she stopped climbing the stairs, Lauren, who was right behind her, bumped into her, and she lost her concentration.

  “Sorry,” Lauren said. “Are you okay?” she added when Natalie didn’t move.

  Natalie started up the steps again. “I just thought I was remembering something.”

  “Did you?” Lauren asked.

  Natalie looked at her over her shoulder. “Not really—only that I think I’ve been here before. I feel like I’ve walked up these stairs. It’s so strange having that feeling but no memory to attach to it.” She sighed, so tired of fighting against herself. Maybe if she stopped pushing so hard, her memories would return.

  “It will come back,” Lauren said, squeezing her arm.

  Natalie didn’t answer or agree; she just kept moving upward, rubbing her temples. Her memories were gone, but her instincts were still there—it was a strange sensation. And something deep inside her was telling her that remembering might not mean good things. That remembering might be very bad.

  She stopped and turned to Lauren. “I really hope she’s here.”

  Lauren bit her lip. “I do too.”

  At the top of the stairs was a pale green door with an orange number 4 painted on the front. Natalie knocked, then found the doorbell and pressed that too. Once, twice, three times.

  No answer.

  A pit formed in her stomach. “Marco?” There was a small window to the side of the door, and she cupped her hands and looked in. “There’s hardly anything in there,” she said, small waves of panic hitting her. “Just a couch, a table, a lamp. It looks like he cleared his place out. Fuck.”

  Lauren squeezed in next to Natalie to see for herself. “I just got the chills.” She rubbed her arms. “This can’t be good.”

  Natalie’s heart was racing. If Ashley wasn’t here . . . if Marco was gone . . . they might have to start saying what they hadn’t been—that it was possible something bad might have happened. Natalie jiggled the doorknob. It was unlocked. Would this be breaking and entering? She didn’t care. “I’m going in,” she said before she could lose her nerve. She pushed the door open and it swung wide, settling against the wall. The women stood on the threshold and looked around.

  “I don’t understand,” Lauren said. “Is there any chance this isn’t his place? That we have the wrong address? He lied about owning Tropical Kiss, so maybe he lied about where he lived?”

  Natalie surveyed the room. There were nails in the walls where pictures once hung. In the kitchen only a refrigerator remained, humming quietly. A dog bowl half filled with water sat on the floor. Some cupboards were still open, revealing a cup here, a plate there. There was a lone spatula next to the sink. “No, this is it,” she said quietly, goose bumps sprouting on her skin. “I’ve been in here.” She wanted to crumple to the floor and unravel completely. To scream into the worn carpeting.

  Where are you, Ashley?

  The musty smell was familiar to Natalie. A mix of marijuana and incense. She could almost feel herself sinking into the ratty chenille couch that remained in the room. She touched the arm of the sofa. “Marco?” Natalie called again, her voice echoing in the empty apartment. She stepped forward slowly and Lauren followed. She crossed through the living room and walked down the hallway, which led to a bedroom. There was a futon against the far wall, a bath towel in the corner. “Ashley?” she said, even though it was cle
ar she wasn’t going to respond. That she wasn’t here.

  Lauren looked into the bathroom. “There’s nothing but a shower curtain and a bottle of shampoo.” She walked quickly into the bedroom. “Nothing in the closet either.” Lauren turned around. “Okay, I’m really getting freaked out here,” she said, her voice trembling. “If you were here with Ashley just last night—it’s nine in the morning now, so maybe nine hours ago—how is this place practically vacant? And why?” She looked at Natalie. “Are you sure you were in this apartment?”

  Natalie rubbed her hand over her forehead, covered with sweat from the humidity. “I was,” she said, then added, “I think.”

  “You need to be sure,” Lauren said sharply, adding a moment later, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

  But Natalie couldn’t be completely sure. The only thing she knew for certain was that Ashley was gone. “I can’t be positive, but I think I was,” she said, glancing around again, noticing a trash can in the corner. She looked inside: three Corona bottles, one of them half full. Had they been drinking them last night?

  “This is getting really scary,” Lauren said. “I was feeling more hopeful at the hotel, but now I’m getting worried, Nat. What if Marco took her? Did something terrible? Do you think that’s possible?”

  Natalie rubbed her face. “I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling.”

  Lauren sighed. “This is my fault.”

  Natalie’s heart sank. “It’s not. You couldn’t have known.” But she wished, now more than ever, that Lauren had told Ashley that they could all go somewhere and talk. That she hadn’t been so damn stubborn—hadn’t told her she was done. And Natalie also wished she hadn’t fought so much with Ashley. That she hadn’t pushed her so hard about Revlon.

  A thought suddenly nagged at her: What if nothing bad had happened? What if Ashley took off with Marco because she wanted to—because of the Revlon deal, to ensure it didn’t happen? Would Ashley go to such lengths to prevent the sale of BloMe?

  She was about to ask Lauren her opinion when her cell phone rang. They both jumped slightly at the sound. “It’s the hotel,” Natalie said and put the call on speaker. “Hello?”

  “Natalie, it’s Maria.”

  Natalie sucked in a breath, her heart beating hard. “Did Ashley come back?” she asked, saying a silent prayer.

  “No, I’m sorry. But two of the hotel guests heard someone last night by the ocean. I think you’d better come back here right away.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  TWO DAYS BEFORE

  NATALIE

  “Have you guys ever thought about getting your chakras cleared?” Marco doused his scrambled eggs with hot sauce. They’d met him for breakfast at Ziggy’s, a restaurant with tables in the sand and white linen daybeds with brightly striped pillows to lie on while sipping mimosas. They’d landed a table in the shade after Ashley tilted her chin at the young host as she made a bad joke about getting boob sweat if she sat in the sun.

  “What’s Spanish for ‘boob sweat’?” she’d asked, her bubbling laughter carrying through the restaurant. A man in a flowered Tommy Bahama shirt glanced over, admiring Ashley’s legs in her pale pink shorts romper, looking away sheepishly only when his wife hissed his name.

  Natalie had rolled her eyes, seeing it for what it was—a piece of Ash’s persona that she turned on and off, like a spotlight in the dark. It was always on when she wanted something—like the table. The host, clearly charmed, had led them down the beach to a shaded area in the sand, Ashley winking at Natalie as they sat down. Natalie watched her as she pulled her napkin out and set it carefully on her lap, wondering when her charm had bled into manipulation.

  “Get our what-whats?” Ashley squinted at Marco now.

  “Chakras, you know, like auras,” he replied.

  Natalie took a drink of her coffee, hoping the caffeine would help numb her frustration. They’d spent the entire day with Marco yesterday, and his talk of crystals, spirituality, and the ancient Mayan civilization was beginning to grate on her. This morning Natalie had asked Ashley why she was insisting on seeing him again, but Ashley had blown her off. It’s just breakfast. Recommended by a local! Think of him as a tour guide. Now, as he suggested yet another activity, she felt her annoyance bubble.

  Ashley outlined her body with her hands. “I know mine’s pretty dirty.” She winked, then took a bite of her egg whites.

  “It’s part massage, part therapy. And believe me, it’s life changing. I literally had a conversation with God when I did it for the first time. I cried afterward.” Marco looked up at the sky, contemplative.

  Natalie suppressed an eye roll, sure that his suggestion was just another ploy to spend more time with Ashley. She looked over at Lauren to see how she felt about hanging out with Marco—again—but her face was hard to read. Why were they both so unwilling to let Ashley know how annoyed they were? Even more to the point, why couldn’t they talk to each other about it? They danced around it yesterday, like a hot fire to which they didn’t want to get close. But they had a right to go there. It wasn’t just Ashley’s vacation—it was theirs too. “Will you be joining us?” Natalie asked, trying to keep her voice even.

  “I don’t want to impose—” Marco began.

  “You wouldn’t be imposing!” Ashley exchanged a knowing look with Marco, then looked over at Natalie as if daring her to argue.

  “I’ve heard about this chakra clearing,” Lauren said, surprising Natalie. “When I went to Sedona a few months back with my friend Annie.” She took a bite of her omelet, a gleam in her eye, clearly remembering a fun time. Natalie wondered what else Annie had shared with Lauren in her and Ashley’s absence.

  “And?” Natalie asked.

  “And it’s going to be great,” Ashley answered before Lauren could. “It involves a massage, so I’m in.” Natalie watched Marco place his hand on Ashley’s knee and squeeze, then pull it away quickly as if he knew it could be there only a split second before he would be crossing a line. But as far as Natalie was concerned, he already had. He would never do that if Jason were here. She studied his dark brown eyes as he listened to Ashley talk, wondering what she was witnessing. Flirtation or something more?

  Ashley had a bad habit of leading men on unintentionally. Natalie had watched her effortlessly wrap them around her finger, whether it was the rotund FedEx guy wearing Coke-bottle glasses or the incredibly handsome head of publicity at QVC. She sometimes seemed like a heat-seeking missile for others, as if absorbing their energy made her more powerful. Was that all this was with Marco? Or was Ashley feeling something for him?

  “I was asking Lauren,” Natalie said to Ashley, her tone sharper than she intended. She had planned to keep her annoyance inside, to talk to Ashley about it privately after breakfast.

  “Geez, what’s gotten into you?” Ashley asked, spooning some raw sugar into her coffee.

  Natalie tried to swallow her irritation, looking away, focusing on a couple on the daybed closest to them. She was feeding him strawberries from her champagne glass. Corny, for sure, but Natalie still felt a pang. When was the last time she and Ben had even cuddled? The last month and a half had put their marriage to the test—leaving her speculating whether they’d get through it.

  “It gets rid of your negative energy. Out with the bad, in with the good. Emotional stress and negativity can build up and block good things from coming your way,” Lauren said.

  “That’s exactly right,” Marco said. “Open chakras help the positive energy flow to you more easily.”

  Natalie narrowed her eyes and subtly shook her head at him.

  “What?” Ashley asked her, not missing a beat.

  “Nothing.” She looked down at her huevos rancheros, pushing them around on her plate.

  “Why do you have that look on your face?”

  “Fine.” She set her fork down. “I just think it all sounds a little hokey. Why don’t we do something else, like paddleboarding?”

  “Paddleboarding?” Ash
ley scowled as if Natalie had suggested a root canal. “We can do that at home.”

  “See!” Marco said, waving his hand in the air. “This is exactly why I think you all should do this. Clear that negative energy out of your friendships. Isn’t that why you came here?” He looked at Ashley, who gave him a crisp nod in return.

  What had Ashley told Marco? They’d been out in the water alone yesterday. Had they been talking about her? Lauren?

  She threw a look to Lauren, who raised an eyebrow.

  Marco picked up his cell phone. “Should I make us some appointments? I’m friends with the owner. He’ll fit us all in; I’m sure of it.”

  “I’m in. God knows I could use some answers!” Ashley declared.

  “Maybe He holds the answers you seek,” Marco said, placing his hand over Ashley’s. Natalie cringed.

  “Maybe,” Ashley said.

  Lauren caught Natalie’s eye again. Natalie wondered if she was thinking the same thing. Ashley had clearly confided in him. About them.

  Marco moved his hand to Ashley’s back possessively. Natalie waited for Ashley to lean forward, to inch away, to do anything to dissuade him. But when she didn’t, something inside her snapped.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Natalie said to Ashley. “Privately.”

  “Sure,” Ashley said as she got up from the table, smiling at Marco as if they were sharing an inside joke.

  “Will you excuse us?” Natalie said to Lauren and Marco, but she didn’t wait for an answer. She headed down to the water and Ashley followed.

  “What’s going on?” Natalie asked when they were several yards away.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Between you and Marco?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on.”

  “I swear—nothing.”

  “Then why are you letting him be so handsy?”

  “‘Handsy’?”

  “Don’t play dumb. Would you let him touch you like that if Jason were sitting there?”

  “Of course not,” Ashley said.