by A. L. Brooks
It should have angered her, the fact that a straight woman like Felicity thought Ash was easy pickings for a walk on the wild side. But Felicity’s embarrassment and instant acknowledgement of the wrongness of her behaviour tempered any annoyance Ash might have felt.
Instead, Ash smiled at her. “I get it. I had mine a few years back. They’re a bitch.”
Felicity snorted, an indelicate sound that made her clap her hand over her mouth.
“Hey, you want a tea or coffee before you go? My next client isn’t for a while. We can talk, if you want. If it helps?”
Felicity removed her hand, revealing a broad smile. “Bless you, but no, I’m fine.” She inhaled deeply. “Again, I’m sorry for putting you in that ridiculous position. Honestly, I’m not normally like this.”
Ash shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s… Well, look, it’s pretty obvious something big and upsetting happened to you recently.”
Felicity raised one eyebrow.
“The tattoo.” Ash pointed at Felicity’s hip. “I can tell a lot about people from the tattoos they choose. These things take time to get over. We all do some things that we think are out of character to get through them.”
“This sounds like the voice of experience.”
Ash grinned. “Possibly.”
Felicity smiled again and looked far more relaxed than before. “Ash, thank you. I’m going to go and do some shopping. That always helps.”
Laughing, Ash escorted her to the door. “You take care, Felicity. And I meant what I said. Call me if you have any more concerns about the tattoo. Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t.” Felicity briefly patted Ash’s arm. “Thanks again.”
She strode off down the street, Ash watching her go.
When she returned to the benches near the chair, her gaze fell on the open sketchbook. It was exactly where Felicity had deposited her handbag.
The sketchbook with the unmistakable drawing of Carmen on the page.
Ash hung her head. God, please, don’t let her have seen that .
Saturday dawned gloriously sunny and warm, and Carmen was glad she could at least enjoy the morning having breakfast with Felicity before she had to sink herself into her work once more.
“More coffee?” Felicity held the pot out.
Carmen nodded. “Yes, please. And another of those chocolate croissants, if there’s any left.”
Felicity laughed, and after pouring them both coffee, she headed back to the kitchen.
When she returned with freshly warmed croissants, Carmen said, “As much as I’m enjoying this breakfast with you, you do know I don’t need continual babysitting, yes?”
Felicity held up her hands. “Of course not. I’m just spending time with my darling friend. That’s all.”
Carmen rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee. “Of course. But seriously, I’m okay. I’ve done a lot of thinking this past week, and everything makes a lot more sense now.” She smiled. “Actually, you know who helped me figure some of that out?”
“Who?”
“Ash. The tattooist.”
Felicity inexplicably blushed. “Ash? Really?” She looked away and popped a piece of croissant in her mouth.
“You’re blushing.”
“No, I’m not. Anyway, you spoke with Ash?”
Carmen stared at her friend for a couple of moments. There was definitely something she needed to get to the bottom of here, but for now she’d continue her story. “Yes. It was the funniest coincidence. I bumped into her on Monday, and we had coffee together.” Briefly, she told Felicity about their conversation. “It was so strange. I barely know the woman, and yet I felt so calm in her presence, and all these feelings and thoughts just tumbled out. And the strange thing was, I didn’t feel embarrassed about it. It just seemed so natural to be talking to her about it. Isn’t that odd?”
She didn’t feel the need to share the other odd sensation she’d had, of feeling so lost when she walked away from Ash. That feeling she’d managed to push to the back of her mind all week, entirely unsure what it meant, if anything.
“Not at all,” Felicity said hurriedly. She kept her gaze averted from Carmen’s and shredded her croissant into tiny pieces.
“You’re acting very strange. Even for you. What’s going on?”
Felicity tutted. “What do you mean, ‘even for you’?”
“Stop avoiding my questions.”
Felicity shifted in her seat, then finally met Carmen’s gaze. “All right, I’ll tell you. But please promise not to laugh.”
“I promise.”
“Well, funnily enough, I, too, had an interaction with Ash on Monday. By the sounds of it, straight after your coffee with her.”
“Oh?”
Felicity blushed again and placed both hands on her cheeks as if that would magic the heat away. “Oh God, I was such an idiot. I… After the tattoo appointment, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I’ve never pursued a woman before, although I have had my fair share of attention from them in the past,” she said immodestly.
Carmen rolled her eyes, and Felicity scowled at her.
“Well, it’s true! Anyway, there was something about her. So I, um, went back to the shop on Monday, and I may have, um, flirted rather badly with her, and she made it very clear she wasn’t interested.”
It took every ounce of strength Carmen had not to laugh, as promised. Her friend, propositioning a woman!
“I can see your lips twitching.” Felicity frowned.
Carmen’s lips ached from maintaining a straight line. “I’m trying, I really am.”
“Don’t bother. It was pathetic. Go ahead, laugh all you want.”
Carmen shook her head. “No, I won’t. But Jesus, what were you thinking?”
Felicity threw her hands up. “I don’t know! She was cute and so very nice to us, and…I don’t know. It just seemed like such a good idea for a while. I was intrigued. There’s just… She has a presence, don’t you think? And those eyes. My God.”
“Are you seriously attracted to her?” And why did that thought make her stomach churn with something that felt remarkably like jealousy?
Felicity chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure. Perhaps more attracted to the idea of doing something different, perhaps? I feel a little adrift, I suppose. I mean, look at me. I don’t have a husband anymore, and my charity work only takes up a couple of days a week. I’m bored. I think I was looking for a little excitement to liven things up.”
“Well, if I’m honest, then I’m glad Ash turned you down. She seems far too nice a person to just be someone’s distraction.”
“I know.” Felicity looked contrite. “It was a temporary aberration. It won’t happen again.” She took a long drink from her coffee. “Besides, she was very nice about it, and we parted on good terms. I haven’t, at least, damaged what little relationship I have with her.”
“Good.”
Now, if ever, would be a good time to talk about her own fascination with Ash, but somehow Carmen still wanted to keep that to herself. It was confusing, and part of her—a big part—thought it was ridiculous anyway. So, she changed the subject. “I forgot to tell you—Tamsyn and Maggie are getting married.”
“Really? How lovely! Gosh, they kept that a tight secret. I’ve not heard a whisper.”
“Yes, they’re keeping it very quiet and small. I spoke to her PR manager Tony last week, and he said he was relieved they wanted it so low-key. He wasn’t looking forward to handling all the fuss around a big wedding.”
“I don’t blame him!”
“So, I’m invited, and I’m allowed to bring a guest. Want to go?”
Felicity practically jumped up and down in her chair. “Oh God, I’d love to! When is it?”
“September 26th.”
“This year?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, bugger.” Felicity slumped back. “I can’t! I’m already booked on a trip to Italy with Cecilia that includes that weekend. Remember, she wa
nted to go away around the anniversary of Thomas’s death and do something lovely to take her mind off it?”
“Oh, yes. I didn’t realise it was that date, though.”
“It’s a shame. I’d love to go, but there’s no way I’m letting Cecilia down.”
“Of course not!” Carmen tapped her chin with one finger. “Maybe I’ll ask Tristan.”
Felicity laughed. “Tristan would love it. I can just picture him, mixing with all those celebrities.”
“Hmm, perhaps my brother is not the best person to take along after all. He’d probably be fawning all over them.”
Chuckling, Felicity nodded. “You can just go on your own, of course.”
“I know.” Somehow the thought filled her with sadness.
Felicity gave her a sympathetic smile. “Want a refill?”
Carmen glanced at the ornate clock on the wall. “I’d love to, but I can’t. I really have to get some work done.”
“You work too much.” Felicity scowled at her. “Please promise me you’ll do only the bare minimum this weekend.”
“Yes, Mum.”
Felicity huffed and stood. “Fine, don’t listen to me.”
Carmen laughed and pulled her friend into a hug. “Thank you for caring.”
“Always, darling, you know that.”
Chapter 7
Ash cast a glance at her appointment book and confirmed that her next client wasn’t until one o’clock. After that, it was full on until she closed at eight. It was a rare quiet Saturday morning, but she couldn’t complain. It would mean she could treat herself to a proper lunch for once—albeit a takeaway from the fabulous Greek place down the road—and a slow read of the latest copy of Wanderlust magazine.
The door slammed open behind her, and she whirled around.
Standing in the doorway, her long, blonde hair a messy frame for her flushed face, was Sophie. “Thank God you’re here.” She stomped across the room.
“Sophie.” Ash made her tone firm. “Door. And how many times have I told you not to slam it?”
Sophie stopped in her tracks. She seemed to deflate, her shoulders dropping along with her mouth. “Sorry.” She returned to the door and carefully closed it. When she turned back to Ash, her face was pale, her lips a tight line. “Mum’s just… Arghhhh!”
The cry of frustration could only mean one thing. Ash sighed. There went her quiet lunch. “Want some tea?”
“Yes. Please.” Sophie threw herself onto one of the sofas, then sat up again to remove her baseball jacket. She struggled to get one arm out of the sleeve and mumbled and muttered to herself as she fought with it. Eventually, her arm broke free, and she hurled the jacket onto the opposite sofa.
“Perhaps you’d better take a few deep breaths before you wreck my studio.” Ash folded her arms. “I’m here for you, you know that, but you have to treat my place with more respect.”
Sophie looked as if she wanted to retort with something sharp but bit her lip at the last moment. She gazed up at Ash, her expression one of sincere remorse. “I’m sorry, Auntie Ash. I really am.”
Ash breathed out slowly. “Okay, tea first, then you can tell me what’s going on.”
“Do you have any clients coming in? Sorry, I should have asked that first.” Sophie’s voice was subdued, and Ash turned back to her from the hot-drinks machine to answer.
“Luckily, no. I’m free for a couple of hours.” She finished making Sophie’s tea, carried it over to her, and set it down on the coffee table a good arm’s length away. Just in case.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Ash took the seat next to Sophie.
They sat in silence for a minute or so, Sophie staring at the cup of tea, Ash patiently waiting her out.
“She’s been going through my things,” Sophie said eventually, her tone carrying anger even though it was quiet. “She…she found a journal I’d been keeping.”
Oh shit. “When was this? This morning?”
Sophie looked up. “No, yesterday while I was at school.” She rolled her eyes. “But of course she was at bingo last night so didn’t get around to talking to me about it until this morning.”
Ash grimaced. She could just imagine how that conversation had gone. Especially with Courtney no doubt nursing a hangover. If there was one thing for which her sister could be relied on, it was a Saturday morning hangover.
“Trina says it’s my own fault for writing shit down.” Sophie’s head had dropped towards her chest. “That I should have written it on my laptop so Mum would never see it, but somehow it’s not the same. I’ve always liked writing in a proper notebook.” She looked back up. Her eyes had welled up with tears, and she brushed them away with a fierce hand.
“Yeah, I can relate to that. But wait, backtrack a moment. You told Trina? Does that mean she knows what’s in the journal?”
Sophie’s eyes went wide, and she paled even further. “Bloody hell, no! I’m not stupid.”
Ash held out a hand. “Hey, I was just checking, okay? She’s your best friend, and you know I thought she’d be very supportive if and when you ever decided to tell her.”
“I know,” Sophie whispered. “But I’m so scared. And now my bloody mum bloody knows, and it’s awful .” At that, she burst into the tears that had been threatening to break free for the last five minutes. She pressed her hands against her face and sobbed into them.
Ash wrapped her arms around her niece. She pulled Sophie close and stroked her hair, the way she’d done since Sophie had been a little girl. “Hey, shush now. Come on. It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it bloody isn’t!” Sophie’s voice was muffled against her shoulder. “She was so angry, Auntie Ash.” She lifted her tear-streaked, blotchy face and stared at Ash. Her bottom lip trembled. “And God, she’s really angry at you too.”
I just bet she is . “Don’t you worry about me. I can handle your mum.” Ash grinned, and her reward was a faint smile.
“Yeah, I reckon you can.” Sophie sniffed and huddled closer to Ash. She eased her slender arms around Ash’s torso and held on tight.
Ash gave her a squeeze. “Do you want to tell me exactly what she said, or is it too painful?” She needed to know what she was up against so she could help Sophie through this.
Sophie sniffed again. “She…she said I was way too young to know that’s how I felt. And that once I got a boyfriend, I’d be fine and forget about it all.” She wiped at her eyes. “And she said it was all nonsense anyway, that I was just copying you because I’d…I’d always thought you were cooler than her and it was just hero worship gone wrong. She said…she said you’d always been a bad influence on me and this was the final straw.” She started crying once more. “She said she’d stop you seeing me.”
A range of emotions chased themselves through Ash—fear, anger, and sadness. Anger held the upper hand. “Huh, I’d like to see her try.” She willed herself to calm down and stroked Sophie’s hair again, the motion as soothing for her as it seemed to be for Sophie. “Look, she was just taken by surprise. I’m sure most of what she said she didn’t mean.” I bloody hope so, anyway . “I’ll pop round tonight and talk to her.”
“She’s got the bingo gang round tonight for their stupid cheese-and-wine thing.”
“All right, maybe not tonight. What about tomorrow?”
“She hasn’t said she’s doing anything, and I know she’s not at work, so yeah, maybe.” Sophie shut her eyes and shook her head. “I’m so not ready for this. I’m still working it all out myself.”
“I know you are. And that’s the main thing we need to get your mum to understand so that she can give you the space and time you need for it, yes?”
Sophie nodded against Ash’s shoulder.
“I’ll talk to her, I promise. But you should go home, you know.”
Sophie sat up with a start. “And have her yell at me again?” Her bottom lip wobbled.
“She probably won’t. She’s got some thinking to do too.”
Ash sighed. “Look, you can stay here for a while, but promise me you’ll go home later, yes?”
Sophie frowned but nodded. “Okay. Promise.”
“Thank you. Does she know you’re here now?”
“No. I told her I was going uptown to look in the shops. She didn’t seem bothered.”
Jesus, Courtney! She’s your daughter, for crying out loud . “But you’ve got your phone with you, in case she calls?”
“Yes. But she won’t.”
There was no way Ash was going to agree with her niece out loud on that, even though she was one hundred per cent certain the youngster was right. “So.” It was time to set the drama aside. “You hungry? I was going to get something from the Greek place and bring it back here. You in?”
Sophie lifted her head, and a smile broke out on her face that made Ash’s heart clench. “Can we get them spano thingies?”
Ash chuckled. “Spanakopita?”
Sophie nodded enthusiastically.
“Definitely.” Ash grinned. “Tons of them.” After one last squeeze, she released her niece and stood. “Come on. They open in about twenty minutes. We’ll get the first fresh batch straight out of the oven.”
“Yes!” Sophie fist-pumped and leaped out of her seat.
Carmen eased her way past the group of people smoking outside the restaurant’s main doors. As soon as fresh air hit her nostrils, she sucked it in with relief. Inside the private dining room it had been stuffy, and an atmosphere like that always played havoc with her sinuses. Her head ached, but not just from the sinus problem.
Once again she’d spent the best part of a Saturday evening being bored rigid at a client’s celebration. This time it had been one of her classical actors, hosting a small gathering, as he called it, to mark his fortieth birthday. His idea of small differed from Carmen’s: there had been fifty or so people crammed into a space probably only designed for forty at maximum. The noise level and all-round tedium of the conversations around her had wilted Carmen like a flower in a desert.
