by Liz Fenton
Natalie had pulled back, wide-eyed, and denied it. Told him he couldn’t prove a damn thing. And that was when he confessed that was exactly why he was letting her go home—because he didn’t have the evidence to support what he called his gut.
Natalie’s gut had been right too—that he was a damn good investigator.
She looked out the window, the jagged edge of the Yucatán Peninsula disappearing behind the clouds. Her best friend was never coming back. And the company Natalie had been dying to break free from was now hers to keep, whether she wanted it or not. She considered this karma—to now be handcuffed to the business she had grown to hate. To be forever tied to the memories—all of them. BloMe would become her own personal prison, the penance she’d have to pay for her part in Ashley’s death. For the secrets she’d kept to protect herself.
Arthur said they could try to dredge up interest next year once everyone forgot about Ashley—after she’d became a footnote in the public’s memory.
Ashley would have hated everyone moving on without her permission.
Natalie had heard Ben on the phone with a real estate agent that morning, talking in a hushed tone to spare her, but she’d known. They’d discussed it this morning—Natalie couldn’t get any money out of the company, not for a long while. Jason was Ashley’s beneficiary, so he had signed a spousal agreement that, should she ever die, he would sell back his shares to the company. Ironically, after Ash had been so adamant that he not profit from BloMe, Natalie would have to pay him out. And it would take time. A lot of time, especially because most of their cash was tied up in inventory in long payment terms. Natalie pushed her feelings away about losing their house and moving in with Ben’s sister in Pasadena. She didn’t have a right to be sad about losing her home. Ashley was dead. Her body beneath them now in the cargo hold.
Jason made a sound and Natalie turned to see tears falling down his face, splashing on the airline magazine on his lap. Natalie said nothing but grabbed Jason’s hand and squeezed it. Before she could say anything, he spoke.
“You were an amazing friend to her, Nat.”
“Thank you,” she said, loathing herself as she said the words.
After she told the police what happened to Ashley, she’d taken a long walk on the beach, then gone to find Jason. He’d cried silently as she told him her memory of how she’d died. The same version she’d given the police. And then she’d found Lauren and done the same. Natalie had found herself thinking back to the honeymooners who’d heard the screams in the water. She could never be sure, and the police had written it off because Ashley had been found at the cenote, not in the ocean. But Natalie had a feeling it had been her, not just because her dress was wet, but because she would have been letting out the anguish of losing her best friend. And then she’d gone to the beach chair and passed out. At least, she wanted to believe that’s how it had happened.
“I need you to know something. It’s been eating away at me, ever since the bartender told us what he heard Ashley say.” He dropped his chin to his chest. “I wasn’t a good husband. I could get really angry. I said things, awful things, especially after the offer, and maybe this wouldn’t have happened if—”
“It’s okay.” Natalie stopped him. His chin was quaking, and she knew he was on the cusp of breaking down completely. She couldn’t let that happen. “It’s not your fault.”
Because it’s mine.
“I just keep thinking that if she hadn’t slipped, then maybe she would have left with him. And at least she’d still be alive. Or if we’d had a better marriage, she wouldn’t have been at that cenote in the first place. Because she wouldn’t have given that douchebag the time of day.”
Looking at Jason, she decided to tell one more lie—convincing herself that it would give Jason the peace that she knew would elude her for the rest of her life.
“She never would have left you,” Natalie said.
“But how can you be so sure?” Jason asked, but she could tell by his pained stare that he was desperate for it to be true.
Natalie held his gaze tight. “Because I was her best friend. I knew her better than anyone.”
Jason looked back toward the window, and Natalie followed his gaze. The chalk-white clouds created a barrier between their plane and the real world below, giving Natalie the false sense that she was free. When in reality, she would always be anything but.
“Ashley was lucky to have you,” she heard Jason say.
Natalie swallowed hard, a thickness in her throat. She heard her scathing tone from that night, saw the spittle flying from her mouth and her fists shaking in the air. The hateful last words she’d shouted at Ashley while at the cenote ringing in her head. You’re ruining my life. She’s just a liar. Aren’t you, Ashley? Just admit it. You are more selfish than I ever realized. The way Natalie had moved toward Ashley, so consumed with anger that it blocked out all reason. Realizing too late how precarious Ashley’s position on the edge of the cenote was, not calculating how the balché had affected her balance. Reaching out for her and missing, Ashley’s arms flailing as she fell backward. And then the sound of Ashley’s screams. The crack of her skull on the rocks. And then silence.
She had lain awake the entire night before, listening to the waves crash against the sand and wondered whether there was any path that would lead her back to the person she was before Tulum. She knew she’d have to find a way to live with the constant echo of her own thoughts whispering that she’d been responsible for her best friend’s death. The memory she’d fought so hard to regain was now becoming her prison. Ashley, who had oftentimes seemed larger than life, was now lifeless.
The very worst part? That as Arthur delivered the news that Revlon no longer wanted to buy BloMe, Natalie couldn’t help but think of the terrible irony.
That Ashley, even in death, had gotten what she wanted.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
THE NIGHT
ASHLEY
Ashley was falling, hard and fast, yet her thoughts paced in slow motion, as if she knew they were her last.
Hannah. Abby. Natalie. Lauren. Jason.
Holding Hannah’s hand tightly on the first day of kindergarten, her bright yellow dress making her look like a beautiful sunflower. How she gazed up at Ashley with her wide brown eyes. Abby, arms folded over her chest just last week, angry with Ashley because she’d missed her back-to-school night. Natalie, so desperate that she’d become a person that Ashley didn’t recognize. Lauren, glaring at her with narrow eyes and tight jaw at Chichén Itzá, so angry that she couldn’t see how much Ashley needed her. And Jason. Loving her and hating her in equal measure, both emotions spilling into one another until it was impossible to determine where one ended and the other began. It all came to Ashley in that moment, in the shock that her body was actually flying through the air and the realization that she had stepped off the ledge intentionally, almost instinctually. The choice she’d made to let herself go. To head toward that other life—whatever that might be. Flashes of regret layered with hope, fear, and then, in her very last moment, the peace and clarity for which she had been searching.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There are so many people to thank. But first, a confession.
Girls’ Night Out broke us open, hard and wide, before putting us back together again. Our friendship and our partnership were put to the test in a way we’d never experienced before. The pressure of writing a follow-up that could rival The Good Widow hit us hard. We argued. We cried. We wondered if this book would ever make it to you.
Girls’ Night Out took us on a year-long journey from the beautiful beaches of Tulum, where we excitedly developed this plot while drinking margaritas and touring ancient ruins, to the magical city of New Orleans, where we fought and struggled with our developmental edits, our thirty-year alliance crumbling. Would the book make it? Would we?
What had started as a wink, wink storyline about two longtime best friends whose connection begins to fragment when the business they fou
nded takes off, slowly began to acutely resonate. We were also lifetime friends. We too ran a business together. Under time constraints and rigorous rewrites, we started bickering more than ever, wondering how and why life had begun to imitate art. We’d never had these problems before. Maybe a testy voice here or a curt email there. But nothing like this. Why now? We plunged into a dark ravine. We felt hopeless.
Thankfully, the elasticity of our friendship remained durable, our strong bond pulling us back together and forcing us to learn from our mistakes. From each other. And interestingly enough, this novel began to come back together too, almost as if the fate of our friendship and the book were intertwined. And maybe they were, because both are stronger today after the pressures they endured.
This challenging but important experience is why we’ve dedicated this book to friendship—something that isn’t always easy. That is both delicate and strong. That is worth fighting for. Go hug your best friend. Or give her a call. (Maybe not a text this time!) Remind her why she’s important to you—even if you think she already knows! And most important, never be afraid to utter those two magical words: I’m sorry.
And now, on to the thank-yous.
To the lovely and generous people of Tulum, Quintana Roo, in Mexico, your smiles and pleasant attitudes are infectious. To the staff at Encantada, the boutique hotel where we stayed while researching this book, your hospitality and kindness are unmatched. And your patience as we asked question after question will not be forgotten. We hope we channeled all of your wonderful qualities into our fictitious characters, Maria and Ishmael.
To Fernando, our guide at Chichén Itzá, we are appreciative of your incredible knowledge of the Mayan civilization and city and your willingness to stop your tour as we took copious notes and to answer each of our one million questions.
Tulum is a wonderful city, one we will visit many more times. Unlike the characters we created, we felt very safe while there. (Even when we took a wrong turn and walked two miles the wrong way in triple-digit heat!) We highly suggest visiting. Stay at Encantada! Be sure to take a yoga class at Maya Tulum. Have a meal at Hartwood, Ziggy’s, La Zebra, and Posada Margherita. Have a smoothie at Playa Canek or a smoothie bowl at Raw Love. Be sure to go to Batey—the best nightlife in Tulum! Bike around the city! Take the time to visit Chichén Itzá. And don’t forget to order a mezcal margarita.
To our incredible agent, Elisabeth Weed at The Book Group, we love you more with each passing year. How is that even possible? Thank you for your smart and savvy guidance. And for your visit to Tulum, which gave us the idea to travel there. Hallie Schaffer, thank you for all that you do.
Danielle Marshall, editor extraordinaire, thank you for bringing us into the Lake Union family. Your unflinching support means more than we could express here. And your southern sayings make us so very happy. Dennelle Catlett, we love your unflappable nature. Your unwavering dedication to getting our books out there. Gabriella “Gabe” Dumpit, girl, you are da bomb. Much love to you. And everyone on the Lake Union author team, huge thank-yous all around. From cover design to congratulatory surprises in the mail, we appreciate you.
Tiffany Yates Martin! We don’t want to gush too much for fear you might make us rewrite it! Ha! In all seriousness, we do appreciate when you push us to be our best. You are a talented and insightful editor, and we’re lucky to work with you. And know that we will forever think of our characters’ inner lives as we write.
Kathleen Carter! Your love of publicity and the authors you support is inspiring. Congrats on your new endeavor at Kathleen Carter Communications. You deserve it! (Did you like that plug we just gave you? We learn from the best!) We look forward to a long relationship.
To all the readers’ groups out there, we are so grateful for you. For getting the word out about books. And not just ours—everyone’s. Thank you for fostering and perpetuating a love of reading. Great Thoughts, Great Readers, Bunch of Book Baristas, Literary Love, Readers Coffeehouse, RW Book Club, Bookworms Anonymous, and Kristy Barrett of A Novel Bee—we adore you all. And a shout out to our favorite Bookstagrammers—Natasha Minoso (@bookbaristas), Vilma Gonzalez (@vilmairisblog), Abby Endler (@crimebythebook), Chelsea Humphrey (@suspensethrill), Jen Cannon (@literarylove), Samantha “Sam” Ellen (@cluesandreviews), Kate Olsen (@theloudlibrarylady), Athena Kaye (@athena.kaye), Suzanne Leopold (@suzanneleopold), Kayleigh Wilkes (@bookish.mama13), Uma Kayla G (@booklover12), Bethany Clark (@blclark513), Courtney Marzilli (@blissbeautybooks), Julie Caldwell (@juliejustreads), and Jaymi Couch (@bookfairies_oc). And to amazing book champions Jen Lynette, Deborah Blanchard, Barbara Khan, Bianca O’Brien, Sharlene Moore, Cindy Burnett, Marilyn Grable, Linda Zagon, and Jenny Collins Belk. And so many more! We appreciate every one of you.
And always, special love to Jenny Tropea O’Regan (@jenny_oregan).
Andrea Katz, you are amazing. Thank you for the sharp beta read and invaluable advice. For founding Great Thoughts, Great Readers. For your ninjas. For your love of books. For your refusal to send emojis in your texts. (Stay true to yourself, girl!) For all of it, we adore you!
And to Brenda Janowitz, author and book champion extraordinaire, thank you for the huge love you give so many books as a PopSugar Books correspondent.
George Piner, thank you for sharing your experiences from your trip to Tulum and Chichén Itzá. The information was invaluable!
Stephanie Herbek, thank you for clarifying the difference between the ruins in Tulum and Chichén Itzá. Our chance meeting in the grocery store just days before the trip to Mexico changed our entire trip and helped shape this book.
To Cristine and Matt, thank you for reading and loving the initial draft of this book. We needed that early support more than you know!
To our families, whom we ignored for days at a time to finish this novel, thank you for understanding how important it is to cultivate not only our writing, but also our friendship. We love you all so much.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Photo © 2016 Debbie Friedrich
Liz Fenton and Lisa Steinke have been best friends for thirty years. They’ve survived high school, college, and the publishing of four novels together, including the bestselling novel The Good Widow. Liz lives in San Diego, California, with her husband and two children. Lisa, a former talk-show producer, now lives in Chicago, Illinois, with her husband, daughter, and two bonus children. They’re huge animal lovers—between them, they have seven rescue dogs. Visit Liz and Lisa at www.lizandlisa.com.