by Liz Fenton
“You know what I’m not hearing you say? ‘I’m sorry,’” Lauren yelled. “Why are you incapable of giving me the apology I deserve? Why is it always about you?”
Tears streamed down Ashley’s cheeks. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? If I could go back and change that I didn’t tell you, I would. I’m so sorry every time you look at me. In every glance, I see how much you hate me. How much you blame me for his death.” Ashley wiped her eyes. “But I’m not sorry I didn’t just look the other way and let Geoff continue to hurt you, just because of my own secrets. And you know what? I’m not sorry he’s gone. You are better off without him, even if you can’t see it. And maybe I’ll be better off without Jason too.”
“But you know what the difference is?” Lauren yelled. “You get to decide! You took that away from me. And I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that.”
Ashley deflated at her assertion. She’d laid everything out on the table, literally, and it wasn’t enough.
Felipe lost his balance as he reached her, and stretched his arm out to steady himself on the wall. “You need to get off—” he began to say, eyes wild. But before he could finish his thought, they saw the flash of lightning, the thunder following quickly after, the sky opening up and crying hot, angry tears.
Ashley jumped off, slipping slightly as she tried to catch her footing. They were shielded by the top of the temple, but the storm was still ominous and threatening. Loud and attacking. As if it were directly responding to their argument. “Is this normal? For a storm like this to come out of nowhere?” Ashley asked, peering out the doorway.
“Yes, it rains like this quite often here. But you should not have stood on the sacrificial table. You may have angered the gods.” The rain slowed to a hard, steady drizzle. He gestured toward the entrance of the temple. “We should go.”
Ashley looked imploringly at Lauren. “I was just trying to make you listen—”
“You didn’t think, Ash,” Lauren said. “That’s your problem. You don’t think about anyone but yourself.”
Ashley looked at the table but stayed silent. Everything that could have been said, had been. There were no more words to say.
“Ladies,” Felipe warned as he glanced at the sky nervously. “We shouldn’t stay up here during this storm. The rain is slowing. We need to go now.”
“Please. Just one more minute,” Ashley said, then stepped closer to Lauren. “I’m sorry for how I handled things. Why can’t you just forgive me?”
“Maybe it’s not enough anymore, Ash,” Lauren said. Then she turned toward Felipe. “I agree with you. We need to go.” She looked back at Ashley. “Come on. This is over.”
Ashley let the finality of Lauren’s words sink deep into her soul as she followed, each of them carefully crawling backward down the ancient steps, which had been wiped clean by the rainstorm.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE DAY AFTER
LAUREN
Lauren watched Natalie stare at her phone, her brow furrowed. How did you tell your best friend’s husband not only that his wife had disappeared but also that you couldn’t remember most of the night you spent with her? That she’d gone missing on your watch? Lauren couldn’t figure out how that had happened. Natalie was convinced she was drugged, but why had she made it back to the hotel safely while Ash was nowhere to be found? As the day wore on and they were no closer to answers, that little voice in Lauren’s head kept asking, Does Natalie really not remember . . . or is she hiding something?
Before this trip Lauren would have never questioned Natalie this way, but it was as if the curtain had been pulled back to reveal a friendship and partnership between Natalie and Ashley that was far from as perfect as Lauren once believed.
“Hey,” Natalie said, sliding her phone into her pocket as she walked over to Lauren. “Jason’s on his way.”
“What did he say?” Lauren asked, wondering what it would be like to see him now that she knew how he treated Ashley. Ashley hadn’t had to see Geoff again after Lauren had revealed his abuse. And honestly, Lauren envied that. When she saw Jason she was going to have to fake it, to bury her anger toward him for the way he treated Ash. And that would not be easy for her to do. It also felt wrong—like she was letting him get away with it. It felt disloyal to Ashley. She realized suddenly that it wasn’t Ashley’s arrogance or pushiness that made her so adamant that Lauren leave Geoff. It was her loyalty. How had she not seen that before? She studied Natalie, wondering how she was going to handle her feelings about Jason when she saw him face-to-face.
“He’s mad that I didn’t call him sooner, which only makes me feel worse. I’ve handled all of this so wrong.”
“No, you haven’t. How does anyone know how to act in this situation?”
Natalie paused. “I think Ben would have been upset with Ash if the roles were reversed.”
“Are you defending him?” Lauren frowned.
“Not for verbally abusing our best friend, no. But he’s her husband. We have to respect that.” Natalie sighed. “Look, I know this hits close to home for you—”
“Please don’t do that,” Lauren said.
“Okay. Then can we stay focused on finding Ashley? When Jason gets here we’re going to have to put what we know aside. It won’t help anything to be mad at him. Can you do that?”
Lauren bit her lip. Of course all of this hit a little too close to home. But they needed to find Ashley. “It won’t be easy, but I can do it. Had he heard from her?” Lauren asked.
“Last night she texted him some emojis at around two in the morning, our time. But that’s it.”
“Which emojis?”
“He said it was hands in prayer, a sad face with a tear, and a wave. I have no idea what it means and neither does he.”
“I don’t either. But come on, using emojis as a Dear John letter? Not even Ash would do that.”
“I know,” Natalie said, sounding defeated. “So if she wasn’t saying goodbye, what was she saying?”
“I don’t know. Those emojis could mean a million things.”
Lauren pulled up the emojis on her phone. “Hands praying, you said?”
Natalie nodded.
“That could be asking for help.” Lauren found the wave. “And a wave, that could mean she was in trouble near water of some kind. Or maybe she was just drunk. She used to send me random emojis all the time. Like a fire truck, and those girls with bunny ears.”
“Wait, maybe the couple . . . maybe they did hear her,” Natalie said. “Maybe she was out in the ocean and something did happen.”
“If that’s the case, could you have been with her?” Lauren asked carefully. “You were soaking wet.” There. She’d finally asked her the question that had been weighing heavily on her mind. She felt relieved but also terrible once she saw the distraught look on Natalie’s face.
“I don’t know,” Natalie said, her voice trembling. “But if you’re trying to imply I would have hurt her in the water . . .”
“I’m not,” Lauren said quickly. It wasn’t as if she believed Natalie was capable of purposely hurting Ash. But Ashley was gone, and Natalie’s memory along with her. “I just want to find her.”
“That’s what I want too.” Natalie’s face went slack. “There’s just nothing when I force it. Nothing after La Cantina.”
Lauren looked at her, trying to mask her thoughts. Ashley had sent a water emoji. A couple heard a woman screaming in the water. Natalie woke up wet—just a few feet from the ocean.
“Why are you looking at me like that? You don’t believe me, do you?” Natalie’s voice was a few octaves higher than it had been earlier. She seemed nervous. Why?
“I didn’t say that, but to find her, we need to be honest and tell each other everything.” She leaned in. “You know you can tell me anything, right? Even if it’s really bad. I can handle it. I want to help you. Help Ashley.”
“I have told you everything!” Natalie yelled, and a woman grabbing a paperback from the loaner l
ibrary in the lobby looked over.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry if I came on too strong,” Lauren apologized, surprised at Natalie’s vehemence. Had she ever spoken to Lauren like that? No. But then again, these were extraordinary circumstances. “Sit down, please.”
Natalie slumped on the sofa next to Lauren. “I promise I don’t know anything else,” she said, then turned abruptly. “But what about you? Did you really come back here after La Cantina? Or are you lying to me?”
“What? No, I’m not lying,” Lauren said, startled. Of course she’d come back to the hotel. But maybe Natalie was picking up on that gap in what she’d told her and the truth.
“How does it feel to be accused? Pretty bad, right?” Natalie’s eyes were wet.
“It feels awful.” Lauren chewed her lip, debating how much to reveal. But if she was demanding that Natalie tell her everything, then she needed to reciprocate. “Okay. I did come back here, but I didn’t go straight to sleep.” She stopped, suddenly unsure whether she could say the next words out loud. Her therapist had encouraged it, but she hadn’t told anyone yet.
Natalie’s eyes widened. “Did you see me? Ash?”
“No, I just want to be completely honest with you,” Lauren said, pressing forward—not just to gain Natalie’s trust, but to gauge her reaction. If Natalie was understanding, it would help Lauren believe that her addiction didn’t define her. She detailed how she’d hooked up with José the bartender the first day they’d arrived and then again last night, after coming back from La Cantina. She’d taken a cab and had planned to go straight to her room and sleep. The night had exhausted her. But as she’d passed the bar, he was wiping it down. “Drink?” he’d said, his eyes twinkling. She couldn’t resist. She knew he could take her mind off everything. “Why not?” she’d said. And after two margaritas they’d sneaked to her bungalow. “And it’s not just something that I’ve done here—I’m on Tinder and I hook up with people back home. A lot,” Lauren said. “I’m in therapy. For addiction.”
Natalie looked stunned. “I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s okay. I’m just coming to terms with it myself.”
“I’m so sorry I pushed you like that. If you weren’t ready to say anything about it and I forced you, I feel so bad.”
“It’s all right. Really. I’m getting help but it’s going to be a process.”
Natalie gave her an empathetic look but didn’t say more. Lauren was grateful for that. That she wasn’t pressing for more information or giving her unsolicited advice. That she was being the kind of friend she needed right now. Helping more than she could know.
“Can we be on the same side here?” Natalie finally said.
“Yes,” Lauren said, but her gut was still unsure. She had a strong feeling there was a lot more to the story.
They sat for a few minutes without speaking.
Natalie finally broke the silence. “So, I’m still thinking about the emoji thing again. Why wouldn’t she text 911 or something if she was in trouble? Why be so cryptic?”
“Maybe she didn’t want Marco to know she was on to him,” Lauren said.
“Do you think he may have kidnapped her? Or worse?” Natalie sat up.
“I have no idea. But at this point I don’t think we can rule anything, or anyone, out. We just need to do whatever we can to find Ashley.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE DAY AFTER
NATALIE
Natalie and Lauren sat side-by-side in silence, both contemplating Lauren’s words: they had to find Ashley. Natalie continued to analyze the emojis Ashley had sent Jason—hands in prayer, a wave, a sad face with a tear—feeling like she was trying to understand one of Meg’s texts to her friends. It would never happen. Because the emojis could mean a million different things—if Ashley was even trying to send a message, and not just drunk and lonely.
She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed as loud as she could inside her mind, her entire body clenching as she thought about what she would say to the officers. If Lauren, her friend of twenty years, was questioning her and her memory loss, what were the police going to do? She couldn’t blame anyone for doubting that she’d simply forgotten the night. Deep inside she was questioning herself, worried that the crucial memories—the ones that were locked somewhere deep in her conscience—were going to reveal more than she was ready for. Even though she couldn’t access them, she could sense their presence, like someone hiding in the shadows. And they gave her a very bad feeling.
Where are you, Ashley?
“I just got an alert. TMZ knows.” Lauren turned to her and held up her phone.
Natalie could see the headline at the top of Lauren’s screen, a picture of Ashley under it. BloMe Founder Missing in Mexico. How had they found out? “What does the article say?”
Lauren started reading. “BloMe cofounder Ashley Green, wife of Los Angeles chef and owner of the Dinner Party, Jason Green, has disappeared in the Yucatán Peninsula area of Mexico. According to a source in the Tulum police department, she hasn’t been seen since late last night, and foul play could be involved.”
“Foul play? We haven’t even talked to the police yet. How could they even be a source?” Natalie couldn’t believe the news had leaked. She felt dizzy from the realization and shut her eyes. She needed to protect BloMe. She’d have to call Amanda, have her draft a press release. She needed to get in touch with Austin, their assistant, and make sure he said “No comment” to anyone who called the office. She rubbed the back of her neck. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with right now.
“From what I’ve heard, the policía don’t play by the rules,” Lauren said.
“You think the police called TMZ?” Natalie asked.
“I don’t know—maybe. Who else would have?”
“I’m getting text messages, emails.” Natalie held up her phone, the screen filled with alerts. She could see just the beginning of each one pop up on the screen before the next pushed it away. Is Ashley really gone? What happened to her? Is what the police are saying true? Foul play? Was she kidnapped? She didn’t respond to any. She needed to call Ben immediately—make sure he protected Lucy and Meg from this news. She looked at the time—he could still keep them home from school. She quickly texted both him and Jason to do that. She hoped she could catch Jason before he got on the plane. Her phone kept pinging with more frantic questions from their employees, college friends, their lawyer, Arthur. He was panicked, wanting to discuss how to handle Revlon. Facebook was blowing up. Someone had posted the link to the TMZ post and tagged her. Natalie wished controlling the press was going to be the hardest part of this, but she suspected it was only the beginning. She wondered what was next. Because that twisting in her gut told her they’d only scratched the surface of what happened to Ashley.
“Ladies? The police are here.” Maria’s voice broke through Natalie’s thoughts.
Natalie rubbed her clammy hands on her shorts. Natalie saw a dark blue pickup truck parked in front of the hotel with “Policía Municipal” written in white lettering.
Foul. Play.
“Can we ask you something?” Natalie looked at Lauren and patted the seat next to her. Maybe Maria could give them some insight on the police and whether they would have tipped off TMZ. And if she thought the police already had information about her disappearance or if they had just amped up the story to make money. “Have you heard of TMZ?”
Maria didn’t skip a beat. “Of course. The website about celebrity gossip.”
“Yes, gossip,” Natalie repeated just as two men in dark blue uniforms and baseball hats that each had a shield inside of a star stitched on the front walked into the lobby. “They are already reporting Ashley is missing.”
“This article says their source is someone in the police department. Do you think the Mexican authorities tipped them off, or could they have been responding to a call from TMZ?” Lauren asked.
“I’m not sure,” Maria said, then pressed her lips together as
if afraid to say more.
“I’m nervous to talk to them . . .” Natalie didn’t finish her sentence. She looked down at her fingernails. She’d gnawed each of them to their cuticles. She worried the officers would see what she wasn’t saying—what she had no intention of telling them. Like how a part of her worried that Ashley took off so they couldn’t sell the company. And how Natalie was determined to find her so they still could. Because they might not look for her if they thought this was as simple as a spat between friends, but Ashley needed to be found. Maria squeezed Natalie’s hand, and Natalie felt guilty about her thoughts.
“I wish I could tell you there is no corruption. But there is. And I hate saying that because this is my home. But it’s true—not all of them are bad, of course, but many are. My brother, he fell in with the wrong people once. He didn’t have the money to pay the police off, so he was jailed.” Maria’s eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry,” Natalie said.
“Me too,” Lauren said.
Maria inched closer to Natalie and Lauren. “To be honest, I was surprised they insisted on coming here when I called. It’s not custom for the police to come to you. Usually you would have to go to the station and file a report, and the process would not be quick. It has to be because you and Ashley are well-known back home—the YouTube moms with that BloBrush, right?” she said, her cheeks darkening. “I’m sorry, I did a Google search after you said you couldn’t find Ashley.”
“It’s okay, I get it.” Nat gave her a wan smile. The BloBrush had become so much of her identity, which she’d never intended when she thought of the idea. In a million years she would have never guessed they’d have a YouTube channel, be recognized in Mexico. If she’d known that would be the outcome, would she do it all over again? She wasn’t sure.
“Anyway, the police may view this as an opportunity to make money because you are famous.”
They weren’t famous in the traditional sense of the word, but Natalie didn’t correct her. Sure, they’d been on TV, they were once in Us Weekly because Reese Witherspoon was spotted buying one of their brushes, and they were occasionally asked to take a selfie with someone. George Clooney was famous. They weren’t.