Girls' Night Out_A Novel

by Liz Fenton

“They said they couldn’t be sure what they heard,” Natalie tried, even though it scared her too. She should tell Jason that she’d woken up at the beach, but she held back. She didn’t want to make him mad, because it would only lead to more questions she couldn’t answer right now. She’d tell him when he got here—maybe she’d have figured out what had happened by then.

  “Listen, we are going to find her. We will,” he said, his voice strong. “And when I get there, I’ll take over and deal with the police. But until then, tell them she’s a minor celebrity in the US. Actually, don’t even say minor. Just that she’s been on TV, well-known. Otherwise they could sit on it, ignore it even.”

  She pondered whether he could be right. If they would get Maria’s call and the message would end up in a stack of missing persons reports that would simply collect dust. She thought of Ben again, whom she also needed to call. She was dreading that one too—would he say, What were you thinking? How could you not remember? “Okay,” she finally said.

  “I need to go—I’ll call my mom,” he said, then stopped. “Oh God, the girls.” Fear finally crept into his voice, replacing the earlier anger.

  “Like you said, we’re going to find her. We have to.”

  “You’re right. Let’s stay positive. Okay, I will be there as fast as I possibly can.” She could hear him scrambling and imagined him fumbling for his laptop, desperate to find the fastest route there. “I’ll text you as soon as I land in Cancún.”

  Natalie stared at her cell phone after they said goodbye, the screen saver a picture of her daughters. Lucy had her arm slung over Meg’s shoulder in that awkward way kids do when their parents tell them that’s how they have to pose. But she loved it because Ben had photobombed them, his grin filling the background.

  All he had ever wanted was for them to spend more time together—to not let the company she’d built take over their lives. But it had. It had seeped into every crack, every facet of her day, every interaction. It had gotten to the point where Natalie was reticent to tell Ben even the good news that was still coming in after the offer, like when People had called wanting to do a feature. That had happened only last week, and Natalie had been excited. What a way to go out before they sold, she’d thought. But she knew Ben would mistake her excitement over a magazine she’d been a loyal subscriber to for years as a sign she wasn’t steadfast enough in her conviction to sell. Even though there was nothing she wanted more. She didn’t want to lose him.

  How far would she go to make sure she didn’t?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  TWO DAYS BEFORE

  ASHLEY

  “Let’s get out of here,” Ashley said to Marco, digging into her purse and pulling out a wad of pesos, tossing them on the table, still fuming at Natalie’s words. Was that why she’d been siding with Lauren practically since the minute they’d landed? Because all of a sudden she was pissed about their dynamic—the same one they’d had for years? They’d busted their asses to get BloBrush off the ground, spent more nights than Ashley could count in the early days worrying about making payroll—whether their hard work and the investment of everything they had would pay off. It infuriated Ashley. How was it they could battle through those hard times with their friendship intact, only to have it slip away from them now?

  Marco grabbed the money and handed it back to her and pulled several stiff pesos from his own wallet. “That should cover everyone,” he said.

  Ashley smiled at Marco, then looked at Lauren. “Do you want to come with us?”

  “What’s going on, Ash?” Lauren asked. “What are you and Nat arguing about? The offer?”

  “No, actually.” She sighed as she looked toward where Nat was still standing on the beach, her back to them, her choppy red hair blowing in the breeze. “It’s complicated. Let’s just say I can’t deal with Natalie’s judgments right now.” She gave Marco a look. Ashley had discussed Natalie with him yesterday—her inability to see why Ashley didn’t want to let go of the company. Her complaint that she should have told Natalie about Jason first. Ashley almost didn’t recognize Nat anymore. Where was her supportive and loyal best friend?

  “Please don’t leave,” Lauren said. “Stay here. I’m sure you guys can work it out.”

  “So is that a no?” Ashley asked curtly, then softened when she saw Lauren’s face. This wasn’t her fault. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be short. I just really need some new scenery.”

  “It’s okay. But please stay. I don’t think anyone should leave right now,” Lauren said, giving Marco a look.

  Ashley’s heart was pounding. She was hurt and pissed all at the same time. “Well, I need some space to clear my head.” She grabbed Marco’s upper arm.

  “I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” he said.

  “Anywhere but here,” Ashley said.

  “Consider it done.”

  They started to walk away, and Ashley turned around. “I’m sorry, Lauren. It’s not about you. I won’t be gone long.” She looked at Marco, knowing in her heart she should stay but also not sure what she’d say to Natalie if she did. She was afraid she’d make things even worse. “Maybe we can go to the beach later or do that chakra-clearing thing?” she added hopefully.

  Lauren gave her an empty stare, and Ashley swallowed the guilt that rose up in her throat.

  “What happened back there?” Marco asked when they’d made their way down the beach.

  “Can we just walk for a bit?” Ashley said. She didn’t speak again until she could no longer see Ziggy’s in the distance.

  “Natalie is upset with me,” she finally said.

  “About what?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Of course.”

  “A lot of things,” she said, thinking of Natalie’s harsh words, the way her nose had scrunched up as she said them, as if Ashley had let her down. “But mostly you.”

  “Ah,” he said.

  “You’re not surprised?”

  Marco shook his head. “Let me guess. You’re hanging out with me too much.”

  “Something like that,” Ashley said, pulling the rubber band off her wrist and twisting her hair into a ponytail.

  “How do you feel?” Marco asked.

  “About what?”

  “Hanging out with me?”

  Ashley’s cheeks warmed, and a small butterfly bounced around her insides. But why? Sure, he was a good-looking guy, but not any more handsome than half the men in Santa Monica. Maybe it was his eyes, the way they locked into hers when she spoke. Jason only half listened. She’d ask him to bring her DayQuil, and he’d show up with NyQuil. She’d explain her schedule, and he’d still blow her phone up the next day, irritated and wondering where she was. But Marco listened, recalling every detail. And he had this really interesting way of peering into the world—it made Ashley look and think about things differently. Like earlier, when he mentioned talking to God. If anyone else had said that, she would have laughed in their face. Thought they were nuts. But when Marco said it, she believed him. It made her want to talk to God too.

  “I like the way you think about things,” she said, looking away. “I came here to get some answers, and for some reason I feel like maybe you’re the one to give them to me. Is that crazy?”

  “No,” Marco said slowly. “I don’t think that’s crazy at all. The universe tends to bring people together for a reason.”

  Ashley walked toward the ocean and pulled her sandals off, wading in to her knees. Marco followed her. She turned toward him. “But I don’t even know you.”

  “Well, then get to know me.”

  Ashley blushed, and asked the first question that came to her mind. “Why aren’t you married?”

  Marco chuckled. “Why are you married?”

  “Seriously,” Ashley said, dragging her foot through the sand beneath the clear water. “Look, a crab!” She pointed, but it was gone before Marco turned.

  “I’ll answer you, if you tell me first. Why did you get married?” Marco asked.
>
  Ashley had met Jason when she was twenty-seven years old, working as an assistant at a public relations firm in Westwood. He’d come in for a meeting, wanting help generating buzz for his first food truck. He was tall—six-foot-four. He had the body of an athlete—probably a former high school or college football player, Ashley had guessed. His black hair was buzzed, making his round dark-gray eyes look bigger. He’d worn a white button-down shirt, rolled up to the elbows, and dark jeans. Ashley had been taking notes in the meeting and looked up when her boss told Jason the amount of the retainer. Jason could barely disguise his shock, meeting Ashley’s eyes across the table. She’d felt her heart flutter. Jason had quickly wrapped up the meeting after that, citing a need to be somewhere else. But Ashley knew it was because he couldn’t afford it—shit, hardly anyone could manage their astronomical fees. It was the conundrum of flailing businesses. They needed publicity but didn’t have the money to get it. Ashley’s wheels had started turning immediately with ideas for how to help him, and when her boss was at lunch she’d slyly photocopied his card so she could contact him later. She had a plan—she’d offer to quit the assistant job and work for him for a fraction of the fee her boss had mentioned.

  Ashley had called Jason a few days later. He’d hired her. She’d quit her job, much to Natalie’s chagrin. They’d started dating almost immediately—also a concern to Nat, who was a little self-righteous in that way you can be when you’ve found the one. She’d dated Ben for two years before he popped the question, and she’d taken a full twelve months to plan the wedding. Their courtship had been very by the book, Natalie not taking any chances, wanting to make sure he was the right guy. She’d practically followed a checklist from one of those bridal magazines on how to vet a man. Even though Ashley had been thrilled for her, she knew she’d never be like that. She didn’t follow the rules; she followed her gut.

  And if she wanted to date her boss, she would. She and Jason worked together side by side twelve to fifteen hours a day, spending most of their time inside the twenty-foot-by-four-foot truck. Ashley started off doing the PR and soon found herself with her hands in every aspect of the business. Ashley quickly fell for him, deciding if she could spend that amount of time in such tight quarters with someone and not be bored or even annoyed by him, it had to mean something. Plus, there was no mistaking the attraction between them. He had been kind when he didn’t have to be. He had been agile and smart with his business. And he loved Ashley’s ideas. They’d sit on the curb, their backs against the truck, drinking beers late at night, and she’d fire them off. He’d just laugh, telling her not to break his bank.

  A year later Ashley got his food truck on the cover of Los Angeles Magazine. And that’s when everything changed—not just for his business, but for them. They’d been out to dinner, celebrating, and he’d asked her to marry him. She’d started to laugh, but then saw his face. He was serious. But she was still so young. Sure, she loved him. More than any other man she’d dated long-term, but was she ready to commit? She honestly hadn’t given it much serious thought before that night. They’d certainly never discussed it. Maybe it was the overpriced bottle of Chianti they were drinking. Or the way his eyes were almost pleading. Or the fact that Natalie and Ben seemed so happily married, well after the honeymoon years. But she’d heard herself saying yes.

  “I loved him,” she finally said. “He was different back then.” She turned to face Marco. “Sometimes I think I broke him. That maybe I wasn’t supportive enough or that my success with the BloBrush somehow overshadowed us. I worry that he changed because of me.”

  Marco laid his hand on her shoulder. “Sometimes people don’t reveal their true selves until life gets a little tough. And you guys were young, right?”

  “I was twenty-eight. I guess you’re right. Can we really know anything at that age?”

  “And now you’re what, forty?”

  “Hey.” She swatted him. “I’m thirty-nine. At least for two more months.”

  “Okay, so you’re thirty-nine, and are you happy? If you could go back, would you do it again?”

  “That’s complicated.”

  “That sounds like a no.”

  “Well, for one, I have two daughters. I would never change that.”

  “Of course. But if you went back in time, your life would be totally different.”

  “Spoken like someone who doesn’t have kids,” Ashley said. Hannah was about to turn eleven and was a fifth grader but was already talking about middle school. Almost overnight her face had lost its baby-like roundness and was now thinned and angular. She was wearing her hair long and parted down the middle and had convinced Ashley to let her dye the ends pink. And were her legs getting longer or her shorts getting shorter or both? She was the more independent, spirited, and savvy of her daughters—the one Ashley already predicted she’d have to keep an eye on as she got older. Probably because she was more like Ashley than her younger daughter, Abby. Abbs was almost nine and had just started third grade. She had one adult front tooth and the other was halfway grown in. Her hair was cut in a sweet bob, and she cared far more about her American Girl dolls and her books than anything electronic. She seemed intent on staying a child. When they’d called yesterday, it had felt so good to hear from them.

  If she hadn’t married Jason, they wouldn’t exist. And even though motherhood hadn’t been something she adapted to instantly—in fact, in many ways she was still adjusting to it, often feeling like she got it wrong far more than she got it right—she was still their mom.

  A couple of months back, after one too many times of her daughters pointing out that she rarely attended their school parties, the ones that took place in the middle of the workday—she’d usually just send the napkins and plates she’d committed to via email, pushing away the stab of guilt as she tucked them into Hannah’s cherry-red backpack—she’d volunteered for the next one, a 2:00 p.m. Valentine’s Day extravaganza. She’d signed up for the items she usually couldn’t accommodate—things that could melt. As she lugged the cartons of cotton-candy ice cream up the stairs to the classroom, it seeped out, staining her ivory silk blouse. As soon as she arrived her phone began to blow up—the manufacturer had received some faulty wiring, and it was going to delay their first shipment to Costco. They had finally agreed, after eighteen months of Ashley practically stalking the buyer, to stock BloBrush in 250 stores as a trial, and now that deal was in jeopardy. Ashley had cringed as she hid in the corner of the classroom, hissing orders into the phone, trying to ignore the way the other moms looked at her—and the disappointed look on Hannah’s face.

  It was the last time her daughter had asked her to come. Later that night, after she’d apologized profusely to Hannah, she sank into a hot bath, burying the notion that she was more emotionally attached to her company than to her family. Telling herself repeatedly that when push came to shove, she’d choose them. But she wondered if that were true—because she often felt so alone despite her full house.

  She looked at Marco. “Do you ever get lonely?”

  “Sometimes,” he said.

  “But how old are you? Thirty-two? Three?”

  “I’m thirty-seven.”

  “Really?” Ashley looked him over. “Well, the Yucatán Peninsula looks good on you.”

  Marco smiled. “Life doesn’t have to be hard or complicated. You don’t have to settle for where you’ve ended up. From what you’ve told me about Jason, it doesn’t sound good between you guys.”

  “It’s not,” she confessed, thinking of the way her chest hollowed when Jason threatened divorce the night before she’d left for Tulum. Yes, she knew the right thing was to leave him. But it was the actual leaving part that scared the shit out of her.

  “So then why stay? And before you say for your daughters, what about what you need?”

  “I don’t know. I feel so upside down. My marriage is falling apart. I could lose my company. My friendships are on fragile ground.”

  “So then take a le
ave of absence.”

  “From work?”

  “From your life. Walk away. Make a fresh start.”

  “You sound like Natalie,” Ashley said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Ashley told Marco about the Revlon offer. “Natalie thinks we should sell. I don’t. It’s why she’s upset with me.”

  “Ah, so this explains your question at the yoga studio.”

  Ashley nodded.

  “So why don’t you want to sell?” Marco asked.

  Ashley paused before answering, thinking about all the reasons why not. “If I leave Jason, I’ll be giving up so much—my marriage, half of my time with the girls, my house, my assets. BloMe will be all I have. I can’t give that up too.”

  “But maybe that’s exactly what you need to do. Give up all your safety nets and see what lies beneath. Discover who you really are. And if you sell, it sounds like you’ll have the money to do that.”

  “Maybe,” Ashley said. “But money isn’t going to buy my happiness. It’s not that simple.”

  Marco shook his head hard. “This isn’t about money. It’s about starting over. And that might mean walking away from the company you’ve built. And your life as you know it.” He turned and faced her. “And maybe some of your friendships too.”

  Ashley bent over and ran her hand through the water, taking notice of her wedding ring. How it sparkled under the sunlight. Could she really walk away from Jason? From her family as she knew it? Or was she just feeling buoyed by her surroundings—by the distance between them? “I feel stupid for thinking that coming to a beautiful place would be enough to make everything better. That Googling ‘renewal and Mexico’ would help me.” She pointed back toward the restaurant, where she could almost make out Natalie and Lauren sitting at the table. “That being with my oldest friends would bring me comfort, you know? But it’s almost made things worse. It feels like our friendships are collapsing underneath all the layers—that our foundation isn’t strong enough to support us anymore.”

  Marco looked at her thoughtfully. “Maybe you’ve just outgrown each other.”