by Levine, Nina
She opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it. A few moments pass before she finally shares with me, “Jack and I tried again for a little while. I’m guessing he didn’t tell you.”
That doesn’t surprise me. While she broke Jack’s heart once, and he swore he’d never go there again, he’s impulsive. My friend lives life in the moment and goes with the flow. If he’s feeling it, he follows it, without thinking through the consequences.
Our wine arrives and I drink some while eyeing her thoughtfully. “He didn’t. Although I’m assuming it ended amicably this time, I’m wondering, did you cheat on him again?”
She whistles lowly. “That’s harsh, Ashton.”
I arch a brow. “Not really. It is your signature move after all.”
Taking a sip of wine, she nods. “Fair point. But no, I’m a reformed cheater. I’m serious about wanting to find someone to spend my life with. Jack realised he didn’t want to be that man, so we parted ways. And yes, it was amicable.”
“Really? He ended it?”
“Of course he did. He’s in love with another woman.” She leans forward, her eyes boring into mine. “Surely you know that?”
“Fuck,” I mutter. Jessica.
“Does he have a shot with her still?”
I drink some more wine. “If you’re asking me whether she still loves him, the answer is yes. But as for whether he has another chance with her, the answer to that is I doubt it.”
“That’s a shame.”
I need to change the conversation. Jack’s my best friend, and I want to see him happy, but I feel protective over Jessica. I don’t want to even consider them together again. Their relationship was wild and intense, and it broke both of them. And although Jack was the one who cheated, I know there was more to that than him just screwing another woman. I know it stemmed from the darkness that haunts him, and that isn’t a place I want him to go back to ever. So I divert the conversation, asking Josephine about how her modelling agency is going, and we enjoy a long, lazy dinner catching up. And for the first time since I arrived in LA, I briefly escape the worry clouding my mind.
61
Ashton
I remember the day I discovered Jack wasn’t quite as happy as I thought he was. We were seventeen and in our last year of school. Jack was the guy everyone gravitated to. He was always laughing and causing the best kind of chaos. Teachers wavered between pulling their hair out over him and encouraging his enthusiasm in class. Not that Jack loved school or learning; he just loved being around people and being the centre of attention. Until the day he didn’t.
That day hit me square in the chest. Winded me. Seeing my best friend go from smiling and laughing to pushing everyone away and wanting to lock himself in a dark room caused me to worry about someone in a way I never really had before. For the first time in my life, I felt fear.
I’ve always worried for Jack, but I haven’t experienced that same level of fear again until now. Until this time. I’m having trouble sleeping and I’m not running at full capacity. Wrapping my head around what’s happening with my friend is a struggle, because ever since I arrived in LA, he’s shut me out. He may have engaged in a few conversations with me, but I know him like the back of my hand, and he’s shut down on me.
Jack’s doctor allowed him to leave the hospital today, four days after he was admitted, and we arrived home at his Carbon Beach home about two hours ago. He headed straight for his bedroom while I watched him walk away, unsure how to get him to open up. This isn’t a feeling I’m familiar with, and it’s messing with my head. His doctor advised me to simply be there for him, making sure he’s taking his medication and attending his therapy sessions. “Simply being there” for loved ones isn’t my strong suit, so this is a learning curve for me. I’d much rather force a positive outcome, but force isn’t what’s called for here.
“Ashton.”
I glance up from where I’m sitting on Jack’s back deck overlooking the ocean, and find him watching me. “Did you get much sleep?” Fuck, I feel like I’m making small talk with my best fucking friend.
He walks my way and takes the chair next to me. It’s a warm summer day, and yet he’s wearing black sweatpants and a grey Henley. In true Jack style, he ignores my question and asks, “When are you going home?”
I follow his gaze to the water. “When I’m convinced you don’t need me anymore.”
“I don’t need you, Ashton. Go home.”
“Whose opinion is that, Jack? Yours or your doctor’s?”
His lips pull into a flat line as he looks at me. “I’m taking my pills and seeing my shrink. If I need anyone else to talk to, I’ll call Josephine. Go home. I know you have much more important shit to take care of than me.”
The fact he only mentions one friend who he’ll call if he needs someone strikes me. Jack knows more people than he could ever list in a day, and yet when it comes down to it, how many of them would be there for him in the middle of the night when his mind is fucking with him? This Hollywood life is something else. And, not for the first time, I’m wondering whether it’s good for him anymore.
It’s my turn to ignore him now. “Your mum told Jessica that you seemed desperate for an end to everything when you saw her recently.”
His shoulders tense, alerting me to his discomfort with this topic. But, surprising me, he doesn’t shut down. “You’re asking whether I contemplated ending my life?”
The air in my lungs feels clogged. I want to avoid this discussion just as much as Jack does, because I’m not sure what I’ll do with his answer. “Yes,” I force out.
He exhales a long breath and scrubs a hand over his face. “No. But yes.”
Jesus, what the fuck does that mean? “So that’s a yes, then?”
His eyes bore into mine, and I see the depth of despair he’s living with. It fucking slices through me. Why can’t I just fix this for him? I need to find a way to get him better. “I don’t believe in suicide, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t come for me.”
There’s my answer, and it’s not the answer I wanted, but it’s the one I knew deep in my gut he would give.
“Okay, so that shit you just said about me having more important stuff to take care of back home? Don’t ever say that to me again.” I’m running on worry and anger, and my words rush out on a heated breath. “We’ve been friends for decades, Jack, and there’s no way in hell I’m sitting this out.”
He returns my anger, and it’s the first time in days I’ve seen this level of emotion from him. I take it as a good sign. “This is going to be messy, Ashton. I’m messy. My mind is blacker than it’s ever been, and to tell you the truth, I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to drag myself out of this shit this time. I don’t even know if I want to.” His brows lift. “That honest enough for you? Is that what you’ve been hanging around waiting to hear?”
Finally.
“It’s a great fucking starting point, Jack.” I stand. “I’m going to make us lunch now, and then we’re going for a walk on the beach.”
“Really? This is how this is going to go down? You’re going to take charge and run my life?”
I nod, feeling more like myself than I have in days. “Yeah.”
Jack’s doctor told me he needs routine, so I’m going to give it to him. Day by day, hour by hour, I’m going to be by his side, helping him, annoying him, frustrating him, pissing him off, and anything else he needs to get back to a good place. We’re going to do this together.
I manage to convince Jack to watch a movie with me after we take our walk on the beach. After it ends, around 5:00 p.m., he heads back to his bedroom, but not before I tell him we’re ordering Thai for dinner. It’s my way of letting him know I expect him to eat, because I’m fairly sure if I leave him to his own devices, he’ll skip dinner and not leave his room again until morning.
I’ve just made myself a coffee and logged in to check my emails when Jessica calls.
“So, it’s Asshole Wednesday here, b
ecause Ryan Shandwick has fucked Lorelei in the ass, and let me tell you, she won’t be getting any joy from it,” she says before I can get a word in. It takes a lot to get Jessica furious, but by the way her words are coming out in an angry torrent, it seems Shandwick has managed that.
“What’s happened?” He’s shady, but so far we haven’t been able to find something to convince Lorelei of this.
“The Herald is breaking a story tomorrow about the high levels of corruption in the State government, and their main focus is the development Lorelei’s tied up with. From what I know, they’ll be splashing photos of her with the politicians from a party she attended recently. Shandwick used that night to introduce her to them while using her grandmother’s reputation to help sway their approval for this development. He’s also thrown a lot of cash their way, but the fact he’s really pushed Lorelei as the face of it all will ensure this hits her harder than him.”
Fuck.
“I’ll take care of this. Is there anything else I need to know about?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is.” The anger in her voice eases, and I hear what sounds like satisfaction. “I dug up some dirt on Shandwick for you. It seems he has a thing for underage girls, in particular, the daughter of one of his business partners. I’ve emailed some photos to you. Have fun with that, and you’re welcome.”
We end the call, and I open the email she sent. Jessica really is a rock star when it comes to her job. This is exactly what I’ll need to help get Lorelei out of this mess.
I search the contacts in my phone until I find the one I need. The editor of The Sydney Morning Herald. I’ve had him on my list to call since one of his reporters published that story about Cassia and me, but I’ve been busy with Jack. Now he can help me with two things.
“Ashton Scott,” he answers the phone, a smile in his voice. “It’s been a while since we’ve spoken.”
Robert Carmody and I enjoy a friendly relationship. Mostly because I help him out when I can, connecting him with people in my network. Today, that friendly relationship may end. The smile in his voice will certainly disappear.
“Robert, I’ve got a problem I need your help with.”
“Go on.”
“You’re printing a story tomorrow that features Lorelei Winters and Ryan Shandwick. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“It needs to be rewritten. Lorelei Winters has nothing to do with Shandwick or that development.”
“That’s not what our sources are telling us. I’ve got photos and emails confirming everything.”
“Your sources are wrong. Just like they were wrong about Cassia Brampton and me over the weekend. That article was a complete fabrication, and I’m less than impressed you would run it without confirming information with me first.”
“We had photos, Ashton. And Cassia confirmed it. Just the same as we have with this article. Photos and confirmation from some reputable people.” His voice turns firm when he adds, “I’m not pulling it.”
“Yes, you are. Otherwise, you and I are done. And since my contacts are invaluable to you, I know how much this will affect you and the paper.”
That quietens him for a moment. “I’m guessing the stories I’ve heard about you being tied up with Lorelei Winters are true, then. I have to say it surprises me that you would put a woman before business, because these kinds of threats you’re making don’t sit well with me, and I’d hate to see how that affects you down the track.” His anger bleeds through the line, but nothing he says convinces me I’m taking the wrong course of action.
“Rewrite the article and take Lorelei’s name out of it completely. And while you’re at it, fire that reporter who wrote that trash piece. I never want to see her name on a byline again.”
His fury is evident when he snaps, “There’s going to come a time when you need me, Ashton. When that time comes, don’t fucking call.”
The line goes dead, and I immediately key in the number Jessica emailed me for Shandwick. He answers almost straight away.
“Shandwick.”
“Ryan, it’s Ashton Scott. We need to have a little talk.”
He confuses my meaning and says, “Great! I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for a while now. I have a development—”
“I know all about your development, Shandwick, and I’m not interested. However, I am interested in discussing your relationship with your business partner’s daughter. Does he know you’ve been screwing her for three months?”
“Fucking hell,” he splutters, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’ll cut straight to the chase. Lorelei’s pulling out of that development, and you’re going to make it known that she was in fact never involved in it to begin with. I don’t care what the fuck you have to tell people, but if you don’t want me to send the photos I have of you with this girl to anyone, you will make it crystal fucking clear that Lorelei’s name was incorrectly associated with you. Am I understood?”
“I’ve heard all about the way you conduct business, and now I know it’s true—you’re a piece of fucking work, Ashton,” he seethes.
“The thing you haven’t heard is that when it comes to those I love, there isn’t anything I won’t do. So believe me when I tell you I will ruin you if you ruin Lorelei’s name.”
“You don’t think I could ruin you first? I have a large network that—”
I cut him off again. “Do your best. I’m not concerned. Now, unless there’s anything you’re still confused about as to my expectations here, I’m ending this call and never want to hear from you again.”
“Fuck you,” he mutters before hanging up on me.
I have no doubt Shandwick will do everything I’ve said. He would be ruined if those photos got out, and he knows it. And as far as his threats against me are concerned, I’m willing to take that chance.
I scroll through my contacts and find Marc Brentley’s number. I’ve been slowly formulating a plan to fight off my father’s demand to sell him the Willow Street properties. It involves Brentley, but it’s risky because he won’t appreciate the negotiation, and it may end up backfiring. However, I now have another reason to take this path, so I call him.
“Ashton,” he answers, “I have you on my list to call today. How are we placed to finalise this deal? I’d like to make an announcement soon.”
This is what I’m banking on. “I’m ready to sign off on it and invest another hundred mill, but there are some stipulations to that.”
“What kind of stipulations?”
“Two things. First, the Willow Street development I’ve heard you’re in bed with my father on. Walk away from it and get him to also. Convince him to leave those properties with me. And secondly, I want to bring Lorelei Winters on board. She’ll be my partner on this. We’ll sign off on it this week, and when you make the announcement, I want her name with mine.”
“You know I fucking detest this kind of manipulation. And I have to say I’m surprised you’re engaging in it. I didn’t think it was your style at all.”
“It’s not. But on this deal, it is.”
“Lorelei Winters obviously means something to you.”
“She does.”
“I don’t like to mix business with personal, Ashton. You bring her in, you’re responsible for keeping personal issues out of this. I won’t tolerate it.”
“Consider it done.”
He turns silent for a few moments before finally saying, “We have a deal, but this is the last time you negotiate in this way with me.”
It’s the last time I’ll negotiate in this way with anyone if I can help it. I’m as against this kind of thing as he is. But for the first time in my life, I’ve found a reason to do it.
As we finish up the call, Jack’s voice sounds from behind me. “Well, that’s something I never thought I’d ever hear.”
I turn to face him. “What?”
“You allowing personal shit to influence your business decisions. I have to sa
y I’m impressed. How did Lorelei convince you to agree to that?”
“She didn’t.” I’m the one who has to convince her now. A conversation I’m not looking forward to having.
He joins me at the table where I’m sitting, placing a mug in front of him. I’m not sure what he’s drinking, but I hope like hell it isn’t whisky. That’s the last thing Jack needs right now. “Is this another situation where you’re taking charge and she just has to deal with it?”
I grimace. “It is, but for good reason.” I then explain everything to him.
When I’ve finished, he takes a drink and rests back against his chair. “I’ve never seen you in love with a woman. It’s about fucking time.” Cocking his head to the side, he adds, “You should invite her to stay.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best thing for you right now.”
“Why?”
“You need routine and space to recover. Having Lorelei around may hamper that.”
“No, having her around may help give me that space I need.” He sits forward again, resting his elbows on the table. “You’re here trying like fuck to make sure I don’t do something crazy, and while I appreciate that, having you in my face 24/7 will drive me crazy. I know I need you around, but if Lorelei’s here, she’ll help fill your time, meaning you won’t be all over me.”
I know he’s right, but I’m still hesitant to agree. And as much as I want nothing more than to see Lorelei, I don’t want anything to get in the way of Jack’s recovery.
“I’ll think about it.” I’m not sure I will, though.
“Please do.” He smiles. It’s the first one I’ve seen since I arrived. “Besides, I like hanging out with her. She’ll probably help me just as much as you will.” He then throws the rest of his drink down his throat and stands.
Watching him walk away, I call out, “What was in that mug, Jack?”
Glancing back at me, he says, “Whisky.”
It’s in the lift of his brows as he says this that I know it wasn’t whisky. It’s also the first inkling that we’ve got a good shot at getting him better, because it signals the return of his humour.