by Liz Fenton
“This place is gorgeous,” Ashley said, inhaling the warm salty air. She knew she should say something deeper, but the words were caught in her throat, or maybe her heart. Where would she start? With Lauren and their terrible fight a year ago? With Natalie and the recent offer from Revlon to buy their company—creating tension within their friendship and business partnership? Or say nothing at all?
“It really is,” Natalie agreed, playing with the straw in her margarita.
Lauren stared out at the ocean, her eyes sad.
“Let’s toast,” Ashley said, a nervous pit in her stomach. She needed this trip to work—for her friends to see that she was trying to reconnect with them. Especially Lauren, whom she’d barely seen in the last year. Lauren and Natalie obligingly held up their glasses. “To old friends.” Ashley smiled.
“How are we forty?” Lauren broke her silence, pushing a strand of her long, dark hair away from her face, exposing her youthful ivory skin.
“If I’m doing my math correctly, I’d say you’re the only one at this table who can check the new box on forms,” Natalie said, her lips drawn up but her tone unreadable. “We’re still clinging to thirty-nine over here.” She pointed at Ashley.
Lauren smiled, but it faded quickly.
“Well, you might be the oldest, but you look the youngest!” Ashley reached over and clinked her glass against Lauren’s. “You could pass for thirty.” She was flattering her, her voice throaty.
Lauren threw a nod and a seemingly genuine smile her way, and Ashley felt a spark of hope that the muscle memory of their friendship did still exist. Because this was it—her Hail Mary, her mea culpa. She’d sold them hard in her email invitation—calling attention to the beauty of the resort, the fun things they could do together in the Yucatán Peninsula. But she’d avoided mentioning the real reason. Had she worried deep down that if she’d revealed her true intentions, they would have declined?
“I know people always say this, but it really does seem like yesterday that we were in college,” Natalie interjected, twisting her wedding ring.
Ashley studied her friend, her choppy red hair, small green eyes, petite nose, and could still see her standing in the quad on campus with yet another petition for Ashley to sign, her passion dripping from each word as she made her pitch. Over the years Natalie had slowly stopped going to bat for the things that were important to her. Ashley sighed. When the Revlon offer came in last month, she recognized the Natalie from twenty years ago, the one who didn’t take no for an answer. Why she had resurfaced now?
“Does it?” Lauren said, her eyes thoughtful. “It feels like a long time ago to me.” She looked away.
Ashley followed her gaze across the courtyard toward the clear blue Caribbean Sea. Lauren had been so different from anyone Ashley had met at Harvey Mudd, a small private college east of Los Angeles. She wore flannels and Birkenstocks and didn’t seem worried about trying to fit in. Ashley cared too much. She sat in the dorm bathroom every morning applying her makeup and styling her hair until she was satisfied it looked perfect.
“You really didn’t care what people thought of you,” Ashley said, then caught Lauren’s confused expression. “No, I mean it in a good way—you dressed like you were going to a Grateful Dead concert every day while the rest of us were trying to copy the girls in the J.Crew ads.”
Lauren laughed finally, that familiar slightly high-pitched giggle Ashley would recognize anywhere, and she let out the breath she’d been holding.
“And look at me now,” Lauren went on, tugging at her gray and yellow sundress, which hung gracefully to her knees. “I’ve come a long way.” She finished her margarita, her cheeks flushing. She looked quizzically at Ashley. “And so have you! I saw your little purchase on Instagram last week.”
“Not so little,” Natalie muttered, before taking a long sip of her cocktail.
Ashley blushed. It had seemed like such a great idea at the time to buy that Porsche convertible. She’d seen one pull up next to her as she sat in traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard and immediately envied the blonde behind the steering wheel as she sang along with the radio. Ashley convinced herself that her life would be better if she were driving the Porsche instead of her Volvo—that she’d start belting out songs when she drove to work. That she’d be happier, somehow. “I probably shouldn’t have posted that,” she said, glancing at Natalie, thinking back to how her eyes had flashed when she first saw the onyx sports car in the parking garage at work. Why didn’t you tell me? she’d asked.
Ashley had just shrugged, avoiding the real answer: I had no idea I was going to buy it when I rolled out of bed this morning.
Lauren waved her hand. “Life is short; do what you want, and post what you damn well please. It can all be over like that,” she said, snapping her fingers for effect.
Natalie looked down and played with her napkin. Ashley nodded and swallowed hard before finding her voice.
“You’re right, Laur. I’m glad we’re still friends after all this time. And that we’re all here together now. We’ve let too much time go by.” She met Lauren’s gaze. Did she replay the argument they’d had last year in the same detail Ashley did? Ashley still woke up in the middle of the night, her body covered in a layer of sweat, wondering whether she’d done the right thing. She couldn’t go back and change anything. But the truth was, if given the chance, she wouldn’t anyway.
“You seem so sentimental, Ash, not your usual style,” Lauren said, and flagged the bartender.
Was she joking or serious? Ashley couldn’t tell. Even though she supposed it was true—if she listed her own personality traits, that one would not make the cut. Still, it hurt a little to hear it out loud.
“I agree,” Natalie said, elbowing Ashley. “Where’s the woman who chastised me just last week for saving my kids’ artwork?”
“I still stand by that logic. Total waste of space!” Ashley insisted, laughing, but surprised by her mounting insecurity. So she wasn’t someone who saved mementos. That was okay, wasn’t it?
“Aww, if I had kids, I’d save that stuff too,” Lauren said wistfully, and bumped Natalie’s shoulder.
Ashley couldn’t seem to crack Lauren’s shell, as if the shadow of their fight last year lurked in the background of their conversation. But Natalie was connecting with her so easily.
She thought of the jeweled framed picture of the three of them she kept on her desk at work. Lauren, her hair piled neatly on top of her head, her dark eyes shining. Natalie, her long, wavy red hair a contrast to the stark bob she wore today. Lauren and Natalie bookending Ashley in the middle, her thick chestnut hair slick and straight. It had been that photo that sparked the idea for this trip. She’d stared at it while on a conference call with the buyer at Costco, feeling desperate for a moment like that again. The way they’d come together so easily, their smiles wide and open. The way they’d inhabited each other, their bonds uncomplicated. She’d hung up the phone and Googled the words spiritual, renewal, Mexico. Tulum, a small beach town, had come up instantly in her search, its ancient ruins and mystical cenotes making it sound like a perfect fit. She’d shot off the email to Lauren and Natalie before she could change her mind, the high that came along with the split-second decision making her feel delirious. But much like the spontaneous purchase of the Porsche, it wore off harshly once reality set in.
“I’m just . . . I don’t know . . . happy you both came,” Ashley finally mustered weakly, watching her friends’ faces, hoping they’d agree with her, that they’d say they were happy too.
Before anyone could respond, the bartender, who’d introduced himself as José, walked up and asked if they’d all like another round.
Ashley gave two thumbs up. Her glass was already empty. She needed another drink to help temper her nerves.
“I would love another,” Lauren said eagerly, and Ashley exhaled sharply in relief.
“I’m fine for now,” Natalie said.
Ashley pulled a face. “Don’t listen to
her. She’ll take another,” she said, pointing to Nat’s glass. Natalie didn’t respond—just pressed her lips together the way she did when she was trying to keep herself from saying something. Nat wasn’t a big drinker, but Ashley knew that for them to put their inhibitions aside, to relax around each other again, she needed to push her. Just a little.
“Excellent.” José clapped his hands together. “My jalapeño mezcal margaritas really are the best. A little sweet and a little spicy, just like me.” He winked, then glanced at Lauren, his chiseled cheekbones becoming more defined when he spoke.
“Can’t wait,” Lauren said, her cheeks flushing—from the alcohol or José, Ashley couldn’t be sure. Well, that’s interesting.
“I’ll pass for now, but I’m sure they’re delicious,” Natalie said.
This wasn’t one of their obligatory happy hours they attended with clients. This was a vacation to Mexico. One they needed. Couldn’t Natalie see that?
“Come on, for me?” Ashley puffed out her lower lip in a pout. She tried to gauge how Natalie really felt about being here. She’d said yes immediately, but that was often her way—to be agreeable. The truth was, their underlying issues had been simmering for some time, and this reunion already felt as if it were heading down the wrong path. She wanted to say: Drink with me. Take my side. I miss you. Let’s pretend Revlon never called. That we never got that offer. At least for the next five days. Let’s be the friends we used to be. But the words wouldn’t come. She hoped that once they settled in, had a few drinks, and became more comfortable around each other, the words would slide off her tongue.
“Fine,” Natalie finally said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll even pay.” She handed her card to José. “Keep it open.”
“Yay! Nat’s going to get drunk!” Ashley knew a second drink wasn’t going to fix them, but it was a good start.
“Two drinks don’t equal inebriation!” Natalie corrected. “But they are pretty damn good.”
“You can’t have only two—nobody can,” Ashley said. “Or maybe that’s just me.” She caught José’s eye, who grinned before walking to the bar.
“So, how’s the BloBrush doing?” Lauren asked.
Ashley glanced at Natalie but couldn’t read her expression, so she pushed on.
“It’s good. Actually, we got an offer—Revlon wants to buy it,” Ashley said.
“Really? Wow!” Lauren held up her glass. Ashley quickly toasted, but Natalie didn’t. “Isn’t this good news?”
“Depends on who you ask,” Natalie said, and Ashley noticed her shoulders were tensing. Ashley didn’t want this to lead to an argument. They’d already had too many about this issue.
“It is good news. I think we’d both agree on that.” Ashley didn’t look at Natalie this time. “But what we don’t see eye-to-eye on is what to do—sell it or not,” she added, then quickly finished her thought, “but we’re going to figure it out soon. And whatever happens, happens.”
“Is that what we’re doing? Leaving it up to chance?” Natalie laughed sharply, but Ashley felt her stomach knot again. “We need to be resolute. This is our business.”
“The business you want to get rid of?” Ashley’s eyes flared. And just like that, they were at it again. She glanced at Lauren, who was frowning. She knew she should pull back, table it, change the subject, anything. But this topic was a hot button for her, and she almost couldn’t control herself.
“That’s not fair,” Natalie said, glaring at her. Lauren nodded slightly in agreement, which made Ashley feel a spike of betrayal.
She leaned in. “We built BloMe from the ground up, for eight years. You invented the damn thing. And now you just want to kiss it all goodbye? To a huge company that’s going to do who knows what with it?”
Natalie gritted her teeth. “It’s a lot of money. Life-changing money. And it’s not like Revlon is going to buy it and destroy it!”
“They are going to bring their own people in after six months. Let everyone go, even the people who have been with us from the very start, when we were working out of your garage!” Ashley shook her head. “So we don’t know they won’t destroy it. And none of us will be there to do anything about it.” She couldn’t stop herself from catching Lauren’s eye as she said the words. She’d already made this argument to Natalie ad nauseam, to no avail. Certainly Lauren could see the logic?
Natalie rubbed the back of her neck. “Arthur has told Revlon we’d want a clause in the contract that each of our employees gets a year of severance.”
Ashley studied Natalie. She looked worn out. “It’s not about money.”
“Maybe not for you!” Natalie snapped, and then took a deep breath before speaking again. “All I’m saying is that Tricia from marketing isn’t going to become homeless if we sell. We’ve discussed complete transparency. Everyone will be compensated and be given plenty of time to find something new.”
Ashley paused before replying, surprised again at the urgency in Natalie’s eyes, in her voice, whenever she talked about selling. Something Ashley hadn’t seen before when it came to their business. Usually, even if she didn’t agree, Natalie acquiesced to Ashley. Why was she choosing now to take a stand? She was about to ask her, but Lauren spoke before she could.
“Hey, guys. Calm down. I didn’t mean to start something. I was just curious.” She looked back and forth at them, confusion etched in the knot in her brow.
Ashley wanted to tell Lauren she and Nat were fine. They could all be fine. But what could she say? Because none of them were fine at all.
“It’s okay. Ashley shouldn’t have gotten into it here.” Natalie tightened her lips again and Lauren gave her a look, as if to say, No, she really shouldn’t have. “What about you?” Natalie turned toward Lauren. “Are you back at work?”
“No, I haven’t felt up to it yet. Between Geoff’s estate and his life insurance, I’m going to be fine,” she said, her eyes sad. “But lately I’ve been thinking about going back to school. I still want to teach.”
“You should,” Natalie said. “Geoff would have wanted you to.”
Lauren scoffed. “Come on, now. We all know that isn’t true.”
Ashley froze, not sure what to say. She agreed with Lauren—Geoff would not have liked that at all, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to say it. And was that a smirk on Natalie’s face?
“Three jalapeño mezcal margaritas,” José said, setting them down on the table, and they all picked them up and drank fervently. Even Natalie.
“Let’s change the subject,” Lauren said, her voice tight. “How are your husbands? I saw Ben at my birthday party last month and we caught up briefly. It was good to see him—I’m glad you all came.” She made strong eye contact with Natalie, and Ashley felt like she caught some subtext in her expression—because Ben had gone and Jason hadn’t.
“Ben was happy to see you after so long,” Natalie said before Ashley could get a word in. “And so was I—thanks again for the invite. It was a great party. That chocolate fountain was amazing.”
“Wasn’t it? I had so many dipped strawberries I thought I was going to puke afterward.”
“So did I.” Natalie laughed. She paused. “But it was nice to see you smiling again.”
“Thank you,” Lauren said. “It felt good to have something to smile about.”
Their conversation had fallen into a perfect rhythm, like a tennis ball flying back and forth over the net. Ashley tried and failed to recall when she’d ever felt like a third wheel with them. Typically, she would be the one directing the conversation. “Jason was sorry he couldn’t be there,” she interjected, not meeting Natalie’s gaze because she knew the real story—that Jason had refused to attend when the invitation came in, telling Ashley she shouldn’t go either. Not after how Lauren had treated her. But she wouldn’t have missed Lauren’s fortieth. She’d been relieved to be invited. And she’d also enjoyed the chocolate fountain. But she wasn’t going to say it now—that moment had passed.
“That’s
okay,” Lauren said, but Ashley felt like she wasn’t okay with it at all. “How is he?”
Ashley took a long pause. When she’d planned this trip, she envisioned them reminiscing, bantering easily, like they had so many times before. She’d imagined leaning in and whispering the secret that she’d held for so long. It always sat perched on the tip of her tongue—when Natalie lamented how little time she and Ben spent together. When Ashley thought of the pain Lauren had been through, both before and after Geoff’s death. But instead she felt as if she was on the defensive, no longer the conduit between her two closest friends. She made the quick decision to pare back her confession.
“He’s good, but . . .” She chose her next words carefully. What she could and couldn’t say about why their marriage had fallen apart. She gulped half of her margarita and spit out the words. “He’s good, but our marriage is not. I’m thinking of leaving him. It’s why I wanted to come here. To think.”
She’d said it. And she couldn’t take it back now.
“What? Are you kidding?” Natalie said, clearly shocked.
Ashley hadn’t told her anything about it. She’d kept it bottled up for so long that whenever she was with Natalie and she asked about him or brought him up, Ashley could convince herself that her problems with Jason didn’t exist. They simply lived deep inside of her and came out when they were at home, behind closed doors.
Ashley shook her head. “I’m serious.”
“I had no idea,” Natalie said, her voice high, her eyes narrowed. “We work side by side every day. We’ve talked about him, but you never mentioned it. We all had that barbecue a couple of weeks ago. Nothing seemed off.”
“I know.” But it was—it was all so very off. As Jason flipped the hamburgers, his back rigid. When they’d argued in the car on the way over, in hushed voices, their daughters oblivious, plugged into their iPads.