Ch17

The Young Woman allowed her to mind wander as she took the scenic route along the coast all the way up to the Santa Monica Freeway. She gave the ocean one last look before veering left toward her destination. She didn't normally enjoy the beach, but it sure did look inviting after the day she'd been having. Even though she'd captured some excellent photos of Claire Ryan looking less than perfect, The Young Woman's stress level was on the rise. The slightest thing was setting her off. Crazy drivers taking the winding roads too fast, the mounting traffic as she drew closer to the heart of Los Angeles.

Why is everyone so damn stupid?

Like she didn't have enough on her mind.

Stop it! she scolded. You need to concentrate on the plan. You have some of the juiciest pictures ever taken sitting inside your camera. Pictures that could ruin careers—even lives!

The thought did make her feel somewhat better. It wasn't as if The Fab Five didn't deserve it-they certainly did. She considered her mission to be a public service. The world will be better off once those pigs are out of the spotlight. Who needs them and their deceitful ways? No one!

Brooks Kennedy was the only one she was slightly concerned about. How would he take the fall that was about to be bestowed upon him? Would he regret his disgusting, womanizing ways? Would he wish things had turned out differently, that he should have been smart when he'd had the chance? He was just like a little boy lost; he needed someone to look after him. She could have been that someone—should have been that someone. But he hadn't been interested.

Oh well, it doesn't matter now. It's too late.

The Young Woman took the exit off the highway and drove until she found the side road where the small diner sat, the one she'd seen Miller park near the day before. She exited the vehicle making sure all the doors were locked, and then wrapped her bag close around her body, giving it a protective pat. She could feel the solid lumps that confirmed the camera and handgun were tucked safely inside. If she ran into any trouble she would be ready. Oh yes, she could take care of herself. The scum of Hollywood wouldn't take her down without a fight.

Where to start? she wondered with uncertainty. Doubt began to fill her thoughts as she realized how large the downtown area was. Would she even be able to find the young girl?

And what happens if I do find her? Should I approach her? Just come right out and ask her if she's having an affair with Miller Bradley?

Suddenly, her plan didn't feel as surefire as it had earlier. When she walked passed the corner of Hollywood and Highland, the place where she'd seen Miller and the girl meet the day before, her confidence began to deflate even more. They weren't here. Where the hell was she supposed to go now? She'd naively assumed that what she needed would be waiting for her right where she had left it, but obviously that was not the case.

Fuck this stupid day! she cursed herself. She brought her hands to her head and pressed them firmly to her scalp, punishing herself for acting foolishly. Stop-stop it! You've come all this way and you are not giving up now! You're so close to getting everything you need to bring those stupid pigs down.

The Young Woman continued to follow Hollywood Boulevard, taking a right on Vermont Avenue, not really knowing where to go next. Her patience was wearing thin, she'd been walking for almost an hour, dodging dirty vagrants and transvestite prostitutes, with no luck. So far, she hadn't spotted the curly-haired girl or the thug she'd walked off with, let alone Miller. The sun was hot and her feet were hurting, and she just wanted to go home. The Young Woman was just about to turn around when she approached the Wilshire/Vermont subway station where a growing crowd was gathering near the entrance.

Eagerly, her eyes scanned the faces of the people congregating, hoping in vain one of them would look familiar. The young girl with the crazy curls should be easy to spot. Never had The Young Woman seen hair that kinky before.

How does she even get a comb through that mess?

The large crowd was restless, all trying to get a little closer to whatever it was taking place. She couldn't imagine what could be so interesting. It's not as if street people hadn't seen everything under the sun before, yet their expressions were determined as they maneuvered their way toward the center of the commotion. The Young Woman moved forward as well, her curiosity getting the better of her. She worked her way toward the center, and to her great surprise she did see someone she recognized. Only, it wasn't exactly as she'd expected them to be.

Oh my God!

Her hand flew inside her bag and pulled out the waiting camera. Quickly, she removed the cap and hoisted it into position as she pushed ahead, just as she had done so many times before, elbowing and kicking her way to the front. Her expert fingers began to work, snapping the shots she knew would inevitably bring Miller Bradley down.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The refreshing water enveloped Brooks as he dove into the deep end of Claire and Miller's pool. He swam the entire length and didn't come up for air until he reached the opposite side. When he emerged from the cool waves he shook his head, the droplets from his hair reflecting the sunlight.

How long had it been since he'd last had a drink? He didn't know and he didn't care. Maybe it was best not to think about it at all. He was doing good, steering clear of all the vices he had grown so accustomed to. It didn't hurt that he was taking a break from certain friends, either. As much as he loved them, Ashton and Juliana together spelled disaster for him. And Avriel Jordan, that guy was going nowhere fast. His band-mate was headed down a dangerous path, but he couldn't muster up enough give-a-shit to change. He'd become a freeloading junkie right before his very eyes, and Brooks knew he'd been following in those same footsteps.

So far, his plan to give up drinking, drugs and women was working-no easy task, but it had to be done. He thought he'd be missing the action by now, but really . . . he wasn't. Not yet anyway. Of course, it hadn't been that long.

What kind of pep talk is that? he scolded himself. If you want to change, you've got to change from the inside out. You won't be able to turn shit around if you don't learn to start loving yourself.

God, he sounded like Dr. Fucking Phil! Maybe it was because he was hanging out with Miller and Claire? They were good, solid people. They knew what it meant to grow up and take on responsibility. They took an interest in their community, and gave back when they could. Not only financially, but they donated their time, too. Organizations, fundraisers, raising awareness for causes that meant something to them. Sure, he performed at the occasional fundraiser, but it wasn't as if he weren't compensated somehow. Brooks had never really done anything for the good of his fellow man, not in the true sense. There was always some reward, some kind of payment that followed his "generous" act. But not Miller and Claire. They gave of themselves selflessly. Because they wanted to.

Anna Lowery . . . Her name filtered through his mind again. He'd thought of the cute assistant quite a bit since she'd left earlier that afternoon after dropping off more scripts for Claire to look through.

She was something else. She was an innocent, like Claire. Soft, funny, sweet and very pretty, in an understated, modest sort of way. So different than the girls who normally caught his eye. He'd had a crush on Claire for as long as he could remember. Maybe his true preference had always been for the laid back, girl-next-door type? Maybe the high-maintenance females he cycled through with a vengeance was his sub-conscience trying to play the role of the rock star? Wasn't that what people expected of him? Settling down with a nice girl was boring, the public didn't want to see him do that! They preferred it when he caused a ruckus in the clubs. They liked to see him hooking up with a hot, new girl every week-within reason, of course. That's what he was supposed to do. Wasn't it?

Anna would never be interested in you. She's good-too good-for the likes of you. No way would she even consider giving you the time of day.

But he'd made a commitment to change. What if-once he proved himself worthy-she did give him a chance? What if there was a possibility she could be interested in him?

Yeah, right. You'd have a better chance of finding out Victoria's Secret . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ashton lounged in the luxurious bubble filled tub in her Holmby Hills mansion and reminisced over the previous night's activities. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would be spending the entire night with Juliana, but one look at her friend's devastated face when she had arrived and there was no way she felt she could leave.

She'd never seen her friend so upset before, and she hoped she would never have to again. It wasn't right that Vivian Landsbury had been so abrupt with her. Ashton never did care for the bossy agent, and the way she had mistreated her friend didn't make her any more likable. And Juliana had defended her-as if she were the only agent in town! Why was she being so stubborn? Anyone else could have done the same job-if not better-handling Juliana's career. Why she insisted on staying put was beyond her. But . . . Juliana was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. Far be it from her to try and interfere. She'd told her friend how she felt, and really, that was all she could do.

Sinking deeper into the lavender-scented water, Ashton played over the events of the previous evening and smiled. Juliana's smoky eyes, her soft hands . . . The sensation of butterflies fluttering wildly tickled her stomach as she remembered their passionate night together. Ashton had woken up that very morning, lying in Juliana's arms . . . and it had felt incredible. She'd broken her one rule about never, ever spending the night, and she didn't regret it for a minute. She'd desperately wanted to talk to her friend about the possibility of something more, but she just couldn't manage to bring it up-not after the hell she had been through that day.

You're turning into one great big, giant chicken shit! What's happening to you?

It was very unlike her to not say what was on her mind, nearly impossible, in fact. But Juliana had her emotions in an uproar. Ashton felt giddy, nervous, excited and terrified all rolled up into one insane bundle of nerves.

What are you going to do about Martin Berkovich? You obviously cannot continue stringing him along.

She was starting to feel bad over using the poor, unsuspecting guy. And if Juliana were interested in pursuing a relationship, what would their friends say? What would the public say? What would her mother say?

Oh, who the hell cares?

Reluctantly, she had to admit she did. The butterflies in her stomach took a nose-dive, causing Ashton to feel slightly nauseated.

Why is this so hard? Why can't I just get to be happy?

At Juliana's insistence, Ashton had stayed over for breakfast. It was the second meal that had been made for her over the course of her visit, the first meal having been the night before, but by the time they'd finally gotten around to eating it, it had been cold. She had no idea her friend enjoyed cooking like that! In fact, there were several things she'd discovered over the past several hours that had shocked her. For one thing, Juliana had opened up in a way she hadn't before about her family back in Columbia. Ashton had known there'd been some animosity between her and her parents over the years, but she hadn't realized how betrayed her friend had felt over their sending her to America to work. Juliana felt obligated to continue supporting them financially after all these years-a concept that felt so foreign for her to understand. Growing up, her and her mother had always had plenty of money. With Marilyn Montgomery working on Broadway, she had provided an extremely comfortable lifestyle, one that Ashton had taken for granted. The concept of someone struggling financially was difficult to understand.

But Juliana got her, really got her. She understood Ashton's dauntless ways-and her constant need to act like a massive pain in the ass to attract attention- and still she was her biggest supporter. Not only that, Juliana had seen her in her weakest moment, when she had decided to end it all. She'd never told anyone about that day; it was just something she couldn't share. Who would she share it with anyway-Miller and Claire? Her friends were too perfect, they'd probably never understand.

It amazed Ashton how close her group of buddies still were, how they had managed to feel like family. Would a relationship with Juliana change all of that?

She was scared to find out . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Miller arrived home that afternoon, he worked hard to push the ceaseless worry from his mind and have a nice, relaxing rest of the day. He knew he'd been noticeably uptight, and he also understood Claire suspected something was going on. Hell, even Brooks saw it! They didn't deserve his distant attitude, he'd just been so wrapped up in trying to help Marie, he could barely think straight. But he knew it was time to pay some attention to Claire, especially since she'd been looking so run down. Not to mention Brooks! If anyone needed him right now, it was their long-time friend. He couldn't imagine the hell he must be going through with everything that had just happened. And there was literally nothing they could do about it except be there for him and listen. Searching again for Marie would just have to wait until after Claire went to sleep, he had no other choice.

He walked into the beach house to find it empty, Claire and Brooks were on the patio, enjoying the late-afternoon sun. "Hey," he said with a friendly wave as he walked outside. "What do you guys think about cooking out on the grill? It's been awhile since I played chef! Anyone up for Steak A La Miller?" he joked.

"Sounds good to me, man. It's been a long time since I went to a barbecue!" Brooks laughed.

Claire walked up to him and put her arms around his neck. "It's good to see you smile," she whispered, careful Brooks didn't overhear. "I like it."

Miller wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. "I like it, too." He planted a soft kiss on her lips and could feel her melt underneath his embrace. God, had he been that negligent? It was painfully obvious he had. He and Claire had always had a good thing; there was no way he wanted to ruin that. She meant too much to him.

He stepped back into the house to grab some steaks and when he returned to the deck, he suddenly noticed Claire didn't look so good.

"Hey," he asked, concern filling his voice. "Are you feeling alright?" Brooks looked up from preparing the grill, and began to study her, too.

Claire's fingers were massaging her forehead and her skin had paled underneath her California tan. "I'm fine, Miller. I just feel a little dizzy."

Miller set the steaks down on the patio table and started to walk toward her. "Here, why don't you have a seat?" he offered, gently taking her elbow as Brooks approached from the opposite side. But before they could guide her to the soft cushions of the sofa, Claire collapsed into his arms.

Is everything alright with Claire and the baby? Find out in Chapter 18!

Hello and thank you for reading Fast Lane! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving a vote/comment! Take a peek at the media section to see a picture of The Young Woman!

(Chapter 17 approx. 2,750 words)