Act Your Age

by Eve Dangerfield

  But the launch was being thrown by Julia’s parent company, DMX Industries. As an organization worth billions of dollars, Ash guessed they could afford to splash out on fancy uneaten shellfish and a twelve-piece jazz band. Still, it wasn’t in keeping with Julia’s gore-filled feminist video game. If it weren’t for the cut-outs of characters, Ash would have thought she was at a rich couple’s engagement party. Which was why she felt utterly out of place.

  Ash moved over to the window and pulled out her phone, trying to look like she wasn’t perusing high end lipsticks on Pinterest. More than anything, she wanted to head out to the balcony and smoke her ass off, but that wasn’t an option. She was due to see a fertility doctor next week, and ‘haven’t smoked in eight months’ sounded a lot better than ‘had a cheeky few on Friday because I felt socially awkward at a nerd party.’

  “Naked pistachio croquette?” a server with a septum ring asked.

  “Sure.” Ash picked up one of the greenish balls, and tossed it back like it was the vodka shot she wanted. “Cheers.”

  “Yeah, no problem. Cute shoes, very conformist Barbie.”

  Ash beamed. “Thanks! Wait, hang on…”

  Unfortunately, the man who burned her had already vanished. Ash groaned to herself. She knew she looked overdressed. The décor in the three level art gallery might be ‘stuffy one percenters renew their wedding vows to general disgust’ but the crowd had edge. She’d yet to see a single person not rocking a shaved head, surface piercings, tattoos, theatrical makeup and androgynous footwear. But Julia had failed to tell her about the dress code so she was wearing a silver slip dress, neutral make up, and pink pumps. In a sea of cool she looked like exactly what she was: white trash. Still, she supposed someone had to remind Julia where they came from. She was just contemplating the open bar when a warm hand grasped her arm. “Hey, Ashley.”

  For the first time in her life, Ash was relieved to see Max hovering behind her. “Hey man! How are you?”

  “Pretty good.”

  Despite his words, her sister’s boyfriend looked distinctly uncomfortable. His black hair was on end, and his equally dark eyes kept darting around the room as though he expected someone to leap out from behind a water feature and declare themselves a terrorist. As a big-time cop that might have been part of his shtick, but Ash knew from experience Max was pretty hard to rattle. She figured his unease was either because of his incredibly fitted Armani shirt (he was a notorious fashion whore) or because of the cut-outs.

  Eli, the handsome male lead of Julia’s game, was based on Max, which meant several of the life-size cut-outs closely resembled the police officer. While Max was flattered to be included in Julia’s game, he seemed profoundly scared someone would recognise him. Ash understood that, she wouldn’t be caught dead next to a life-size cut-out of herself.

  Max tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. “How are you finding things?”

  “Yeah, great.” Ash mentally crossed her fingers. “Wish I got a memo about the dress code.”

  “You look fine.”

  They stood in silence for a moment, eyeing each other up. Ash’s relationship with Max had always been a little tense. He was a cop, and a childhood riddled with cops dragging your mum away for selling Valium in the Woolies car park wasn’t easy to forget. He’d also hurt Julia, a crime usually punishable by pain and/or lifelong snubbing.

  In fairness, Max hadn’t hurt Jules intentionally, he’d just had a lot of blokey conflicted feelings about dating her sister. He was older than Julia was, thirty-three to her twenty-four when they began their whirlwind romance, and he had been married, though legally separated.

  When Ash met Max’s acquaintance for the first time, he was moping around their front door trying to get Julia to talk to him again. She’d assumed he was an arrogant, beefed-up dickhead trying to unload his post-divorce man-feels on her sister and threatened to do him an injury. It hadn’t gotten their relationship off to a great start. After almost two years together, Max had well and truly proved he loved Jules, but Ash was still inclined to keep him on his toes, make sure he knew he was being monitored for signs he was fucking up.

  “How did Julia seem before the party?” she asked.

  “Pretty nervous. You know how she gets about being the centre of attention. She was shaking all over, like a hairless cat.”

  “You should give her vodka. That’s what I used to do before she had to give an English presentation at school.”

  “Good to know, usually when Jules is shook up I just…”

  Max’s cheeks turned ruddy, and Ash had the misfortune of knowing exactly what he had done to relax her sister instead. Gross.

  She looked around for a distraction, any distraction, and snagged a glass of sparkling wine from a passing server. She was supposed to be staying off alcohol, but this was an emergency. Max seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He took two, and downed a glass in one go. “Sorry,” he said thickly. “This whole night has been pretty weird for me.”

  “I can’t imagine why…” Ash pointed to an Eli cut-out. “Hey, do you have a twin brother?”

  Max groaned. “I love Jules, but some of the people I work with threatened to come tonight, and if they see the cut-outs…” He shuddered, draining his other glass of wine.

  Ash, figuring she’d do as the Romans did, tipped her own glass up.

  “Helps when it’s good stuff doesn’t it?” Max took their empty glasses and put them on a side table. “So, have you had any trouble with your ex lately?”

  Ash glanced around as though someone she knew might be listening. Seeing no one but unidentified hipsters, she figured she could risk it. “No, I think Zach’s finally given up his attention quest.”

  “Good to hear. Anytime that guy needs a knee in the back, just call me.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  Max and Julia drove to Brenthill the day after her nursery epiphany. They’d waited in Max’s car as Ash told Zach it was over. Her ex-boyfriend had refused to go quietly. First he’d cried, then he’d begged, then he’d thrown her stuff around and shouted that he had a right to be there (he didn’t) and she couldn’t just dump him (she could). Then Max had rushed in and pinned him to her dining room floor, while Julia called Brenthill Police Station.

  Their former colleagues arrived in record time, and Ash watched, half-laughing, half-crying as another one of her ex-boyfriends got piled into the back of a divvy van.

  She’d had a whole day of relief before Zach launched his campaign to win her back. It wasn’t a great campaign by any means; he drove past her house at all hours blaring the horn, left used condoms on her doorstep, and harassed her on Facebook. In the end, she’d had to take out an intervention order. She hadn’t wanted to. She’d been convinced the cops would laugh at her behind her back, ‘Ash Bennett? That footy slut? Of course, she’s got some loser doing laps around her house. She’ll be back with him in a month,’ but Julia had convinced her it was the right thing to do, and to her surprise, it worked. Zach stayed away, and the ugliness of dealing with him killed whatever remained of her fairy tale romance dream dead.

  She’d spent the last eight months alone, discovering who she was when she wasn’t dating, pursuing, or being pursued by men. Turned out she could read a detective novel in two days, make gnocchi by hand, and after several weeks of intensive yoga, do the splits. She cleaned out her wardrobe, ate whole strawberry cheesecakes, and stayed off cigarettes and booze until it felt natural, or at least more natural. At times it was painfully boring, especially on weekends, but it was worth it. There were no cocaine highs when the only steady man in your life was the bin guy, but there were no gutter lows either. While electronic buzzing was hardly a gratifying substitute for sex, a vibrator never asked you for money or puked on your couch and tried to blame it on the dog. If you didn’t like a vibrator, you chucked it in the bin. No cops necessary.

  It had taken almost a year, but she finally had a life outside of Southern Star Ho
spital that was together, and she passed the necessary health checks and counselling sessions to become applicable for donor sperm with flying colours. It seemed too good to be true but she was on the fast track to have a baby by the end of the year.

  “Greek feta pastizzi with truffle oil and fresh chives?” The girl with bright green hair was back, once again overburdened with hors d’oeuvres. She took two. “What is it with rich people and nibbly things stuffed into other nibbly things?”

  “No idea, but I’d kill for an actual meal.” Max scanned the crowd. “Have you seen Jules anywhere?”

  “Last I saw, she and Tiff were talking to a group of people who looked like elves.”

  “Shit. I don’t know whether I should be hovering behind her, doing the whole supportive boyfriend thing, or leave her alone to network.”

  “Don’t look at me, I’m thinking the same thing, except sister instead of boyfriend.”

  Ash spotted a guy with a fauxhawk pointing at Max, then to the cut-out of Eli, then back to Max. Everyone in his group turned to gawp at them.

  Ash nudged Max’s side. “Hey, you’re a celebrity, Connor.”

  Max gave the group a feeble wave. “That’s all I need. If the guys at work find out about this, I’m done.”

  “You’d think they’d be impressed you’re an action star.”

  “No, they’ll just laugh their asses off. Then they’ll get their hands on one of the cut-outs and keep it in the office forever.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  Max scowled. “Would you want a cut-out of yourself at the hospital?”

  “If it could supervise routine childbirths while I took a nap, yes.”

  “I guess mine could stand by a window and intimidate bad guys. Like those cut-outs in Home Alone. Come on, let’s move before one of them comes over and tries to get a picture.”

  As they walked away they crossed paths with a willowy blonde waitress bearing a tray of pale pink cocktails. “Strawberry gin and micro-basil martini?”

  She and Max looked at one another, then took one each.

  Max held up his glass. “To Julia being so fucking talented.”

  Ash tapped it with hers. “Agreed. Also, free drinks.”

  When she and Max were done with their martinis, they tried ginger and orange vodka sours, then whiskey and cherry somethings, then tequila and coconut something-elses and within an hour they were both fairly loose. The alcohol greased over their usual tension until Ash found herself enjoying talking to Max, about football, then work, until finally…

  “You still thinking about having a baby?” Max asked, gnawing at a lime he’d plucked from his lavender gin cup.

  “Yeah. I’ve had all the tests done. Apparently, my eggs are good, and my uterus is raring to go.”

  It was a testament to how drunk they were that Max smiled. “That’s great.”

  “Thanks. I’m due to see the doctor about going through some donor lists this week.”

  “Wow. Big move.”

  “I guess, but I’m excited, too.”

  Max downed the last of his lilac cocktail. “Glad to hear it. I’m sure you’ll be a great mum.”

  Ash smiled, not really paying attention. She’d caught sight of a hot young couple making out in the corner and realized something. She was horny. Not for Max. Vom. Even if he wasn’t Julia’s boyfriend, authoritarian men did nothing for her. While that meant she’d dated more than her share of stoners, losers, and the chronically unemployed, at least she and Jules rarely found the same men hot. Except for Liam Hemsworth, but come on, everyone wanted to fuck that guy. Even Zach wanted to fuck that guy.

  No, she was just horny in general. Especially now she was dressed up and drunk for the first time in ages. She could stand to flirt with someone, feel that prickle of mutual interest, of ‘what are you like in the sack?’ She scanned the room, seeing nothing but hipsters and couples and hipster couples. She supposed it was for the best. Besides, even if there were single guys checking her out, none would risk approaching with Max ‘ask me about my license to carry a concealed firearm’ Connor standing beside her like the world’s biggest cockblock. An evil part of Ash’s brain wandered to her phone, to the men she could text if she wanted a quick tumble. Eight months she’d endured celibacy, was tonight going to be the night she finally cracked?

  Max’s face loomed close to hers. “Hey, um, Ash can I ask you something?”

  Ash stepped backward, alarmed by the intensity of Max’s expression in contrast with her dirty thoughts. “Don’t put your head that close to my head ever again.”

  Max quickly backed off. “Sorry. But can I ask you something about Julia? It’s pretty serious actual—”

  “Maxie!”

  A man’s voice cut through the room, so inappropriately loud everyone stopped what they were doing to look around for the source of the noise.

  “Christ.” Max pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I forgot Jules invited him. Sorry in advance.”

  Ash, who’d been distracted by her phone buzzing in her purse, said ‘Huh?’ but Max was already addressing whoever it was behind her. “You found the place okay?”

  “Sure did,” the guy said in the same too-loud voice. “Sorry I’m late, I ordered a taxi, then I forgot I hadn’t brushed my teeth, and by the time I was done doing that, the taxi had bailed, so I ordered another taxi…”

  Ash, who knew a pointless story when she heard one, checked her phone. She had a text from Julia. I hope you’re having fun. Sorry I can’t talk, there are so many industry d-bags I need to chat up and not enough time xxx.

  She smiled and tapped a quick message back. You do your thing, Max and I are getting smashed on level two. Join us when you’re free. I’m so proud of you xoxoxo

  Ash tucked her phone back into her bag, smiling to herself.

  “… and then I ordered another taxi, but the guy was dropping someone off in Preston, and it took him ages to get to Coburg…”

  Fucking hell, was this guy still talking? About how he failed to catch multiple taxis? What a der-brain. Ash turned around to rescue Max and then everything went sort of slow and fuzzy like someone had rubbed Vaseline on her eyeballs. Max’s dipshit friend was… gorgeous.

  Ash was no stranger to beautiful men. Her back catalog contained three AFL footballers, an Oscar nominee, and one of the guys from The Kings of Leon, back when The Kings of Leon were a big deal. But whether it was because of her stint in the no-fuck-zone, or because she was surrounded by elvish nerds and her sister’s boyfriend, this man seemed almost unreasonably hot. He was tall, even taller than Max, with shoulders like the Bolte Bridge and a smile that could kill an old lady. He wasn’t a pretty boy, his nose was crooked and his grin lopsided, but he had that square-jawed, salt-of-the-earth handsome look that made a girl think of loose-hipped cowboys and demanding Scottish Lairds. And speaking of Scottish Lairds, old mate was a redhead. Usually gingers weren’t her scene but this guy’s hair was the rich coppery-auburn of a fox’s pelt. It gleamed like rose gold under the floodlights, his short beard the exact colour as the stuff on his head. It was beautiful. Big Red was doing it for her. Big time. And apparently, the feeling was mutual.

  “Whoa,” he said, taking a step backward. “Who are you?”

  Max whapped his friend in the stomach. “Dean, that’s not something you say to people.”

  “It’s fine.” Ash straightened her spine so Red could see the extent of her cleavage. “I’m Ash. Ash Bennett.”

  “You’re stunning,” he said, eyeing her up and down. His irises weren’t watery blue like most redheads, but a warm caramel brown. Ash’s lady areas tingled, as though they too craved a cigarette. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” Red grinned at her. “Seriously, are you single?”

  “Dean,” Max barked. “This is Julia’s sister, Ashley.”

  Red flashed him a mischievous smile. “I know. They look heaps alike. And she said her name wa
s Bennett.”

  Ash was torn from visions of dragging Red into the nearest cupboard and sitting on him, to ask, “How do you know Jules?”

  “Dean’s my housemate,” Max said, in the tone of someone who very much did not like what they were seeing. “He moved in four years ago when his girlfriend dumped him for killing her rabbit.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “It was an accident,” Red said earnestly. “I just got back from the gym, and I thought Bugsy, that was the rabbit’s name, looked like he wanted to go outside, which is fair enough. Who wants to sit in a cage all day, chewing little bits of wood? So I walked over and I thought ‘should I be doing this?’ And that’s when I noticed…”

  As Big Red launched into another story with no discernible plot or purpose, Ash and her drunk brain measured him with her eyes. He had to be six-four or five, lean, but beefy everywhere it counted. How would all that weight feel bearing down on her? She imagined his handsome face screwed up in pleasure as he pounded away at her practically revirginized pussy. Everything below her belly button tightened.

  She couldn’t, could she? And what of red-gold pubic hair? Did the carpet match the drapes? Was it beautiful? She bet it was beautiful.

  “…random ears and little bits of fur everywhere,” Red concluded. “So yeah, I had to move in with Max. It’s been an absolute ball though, wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.”

  “Something you’ve made abundantly clear.” Max gave them a pained smile. “How about we all go find Jules and hang out together?”

  “She’s busy,” Ash said. “Red, what do you do, work-wise?”

  “Until about three months ago, I did weekends at The Penny Black.”

  “Bartender?”

  “Yeah.” Another flash of that boyish ‘who me?’ smile. “I wasn’t great at it, but the pay was good. Plus free drinks.”

  “Except he got fired,” Max chipped in. “He was sleeping with the manager and the sales rep for Strongbow cider at the same time, and they found out about each other and started a cat fight in the smokers’ area. The police had to attend, didn’t they, Dean?”