Ch27

Juliana pulled her white Bentley up to the prophetic-looking estate and parked in the driveway situated in the front. She hopped out and quickly ran up the staircase leading to the elegant porch, thankful to have made it there in one piece. Thanks to the storm, the roads that lead to Point Dune were treacherous, as drivers tried to make their way to their destinations quickly. As Juliana stood waiting for someone to answer the door, she shook out her long hair, the raindrops dripping relentlessly from the ends. After a minute, a dignified-looking man answered, and ushered her into an impressive marble foyer. She followed him into the next room, a sitting room, decorated in mahogany wood molding and warm gray walls. It would have been a pleasant combination if the enormous windows hadn't been covered by the looming trees situated outside. Dim slivers of light made their way past the branches, barely allowing enough in to illuminate the room.

A chill made it's way up her spine as she declined a glass of wine from the man who had answered the door, and she clutched the sweater she wore tighter around her. Hired help always made Juliana feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was because of her upbringing in Columbia? Her mother had worked odd jobs as a maid for the wealthier residents, and on occasion she would bring Juliana with her. She'd always been warned not to touch anything, and never, but never, look the lady of the house in the eye. "You're a beautiful girl, Juliana," she would often tell her, "And other women do not like to be in the company of beautiful women." She had only been a child at the time, and didn't understand her mother's life-lessons. Why would a grown woman feel threatened by her? It made no sense. But true to her mother's word, the wealthy women didn't seem to appreciate her presence in their home. Once they got a look at her, they raise their privileged noses and speak down, as though she were a stray dog no one wanted.

"Juliana," Oliver McGee greeted her from the doorway. He walked over and gave her a kiss on each cheek. "You're the first to arrive. It's been so long! You look magnificent." He stepped back and studied her carefully, making her feel uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Oliver. You look very well yourself." It hadn't exactly been the truth, but Juliana had learned at a young age that people liked to be complimented, even if you had to lie through your teeth to do it.

"How are the roads?" he asked, walking over to the elegantly dressed man and taking a glass of wine from the tray positioned in his arms. "Would you like something to drink?" he questioned, looking back at her.

Juliana shook her head. "No, I'm good, thank you." It had been quite awhile since she'd had her last drink, and she didn't plan on caving any time soon. "The roads are getting pretty bad. The rain is really coming down. I was happy to have made it here alive," she said with a tight smile.

"Well, I hope the weather doesn't delay our other guests. We have much to discuss tonight."

Juliana nodded and hoped he would elaborate, at least give her an idea of what this meeting was all about. But he didn't. Instead, he walked to the window and stared out at the darkened sky above. "It really is ugly out there. "I do hope everyone drives safely."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Four months pregnant, how is that even possible? Claire wondered for the dozenth time. She'd only missed her lasts two periods! How could she be pregnant and still have a period? "It's not exactly a period," her doctor explained. "Intermittent bleeding at the beginning of pregnancy may seem like a period, but it's not quite the same as menstruation."

Other than a low blood pressure—which most likely had been causing the dizzy spells, and the lack of appetite—which should be about over now that she was out of the first trimester, she and the baby had gotten a clean bill of health. In fact, she was almost far enough along to determine the sex! Would they do that? Would Miller want to know if the baby was a boy or girl, or would he prefer to be surprised? Claire wanted to wait. There was something about not knowing that made the whole thing even more magical than it already was.  Four months pregnant—who would have guessed! That meant in about six short months, approximately 180 days, she and Miller would become parents! She could hardly believe it. No wonder she had already started to show.

"How did it go?" Anna asked anxiously as soon as she made her way into the waiting room.

Claire's face lit up with a big smile. "It went well, the baby and I are both healthy. Everything is moving along exactly as it should - although the doctor thinks I should be eating more," she offered, keeping the due date to herself. She wanted Miller to be the first to hear all the tiny details.

"Oh, thank goodness! I'm so relieved," Anna said, reaching over and hugging Claire tightly. "I am so happy for you. You're going to make a wonderful mother! Maybe we should stop and get you a great big cheeseburger on the way home?" she teased.

Claire's grin grew even wider. "Too greasy - I think I'll pass," she said, laughing. "I can't believe how excited I am! Coming here and being able to hear the little heartbeat just made it seem so real, you know? I mean, I always knew it was real, but this just—wow," she exclaimed, beside herself. "I can't wait to tell Miller! I just know he'll be thrilled," she said, hugging her arms around her middle.

Anna and Claire quickly ran from the office into the car, dodging the downpour as best they could. "This rain is torrential!" Anna shouted over the sound of the storm. "I've never seen anything like it!" A loud crash of thunder echoed around them.

"I hope Miller and Brooks are okay," Claire worried out loud as she plopped down in the passenger seat. "I hate to think of them driving out in this—I hate for us to be driving out in this."

Anna twisted the key in the ignition and brought the car to life. She turned on the heat as high as it would go to alleviate the chill that had settled. "I'm sure they're fine. And we'll be okay, too," she soothed. "Try not to worry, it can't be good for you or the baby. Besides, it seems to be letting up some, dontcha think?"

Claire shrugged. "Maybe a little. You, know, Oliver's house isn't too far from mine. Do you want to see if we can make it to the meeting? I'm so curious about what he's going to say. I know Miller will tell me all about it, but it's not the same as being there myself. He's not always good at remembering the tiny details," she added with a smile.

"Sure. Let's do it."

Suddenly, Claire's phone rang from inside her purse. Stretching it open, Claire rummaged around inside for a moment before finally pulling out her cell. "Hello?"

"Claire, how are you?" came a thick Jamaican accent from the other end. She knew immediately who it was. "Elijah! I'm good, thank you. How are you? It's been so long! How's Meredith?" she asked, referring to the lawyer's lovely wife.

"We're both doing great, Claire, thank you. Listen," he said, getting right to the point. "I've tried to get a hold of Miller, but my attempts have been unsuccessful. Is he with you, by chance?"

Claire ran one hand through her tangled waves, trying to separate the damp strands of hair. "No, I'm sorry. He's at a meeting in Point Dume. Cell phone reception can be a little sketchy out there. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Elijah cleared his throat. "Well, normally I would wait for Miller, but I do have some information he has been waiting on. It's pretty important. Are you at home?" he asked, sounding rather impatient.

"I'm on my way home right now. I can meet you there if you'd like."

"Great. I'm actually already on my way. I'll be there in about thirty minutes."

Claire hitched her eyebrows together in surprise. What could possibly be so important? "Okay, I'll see you soon, Elijah."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Natalie clutched her messenger bag tightly across her as she made her way up the steps and onto the front porch of her father's house. She stood at the door for a moment, willing herself to enter. I can do this. I will do this.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the weight of the door open and felt the familiar rush of cool air hit her in the face. Not only did the house look like a museum, it felt like one, too . . . cold, rigid . . . not the kind of place that would house a young girl. The need to speak in hushed tones and not touch anything consumed her, just as it had done in her childhood. Natalie walked hesitantly through the foyer and into the sitting room and noticed with surprise that she was not the first guest to arrive. Juliana Santiago was already there, sitting on the couch next to her father, speaking in her lush, majestic accent, jet-black hair long and glossy. It never really mattered what Juliana was saying, everyone always stopped what they were doing to listen, as though she had them hypnotized with her bewitching good looks and heavily-accented words. She was the kind of girl who stood out in a crowd, the kind that made girls like Natalie feel bland in comparison.

"Natalie," Oliver announced, rising from the couch and walking over to greet her. "So nice of you to come tonight." He brushed his lips against each cheek, leaving a trail of moisture in their wake. Ha, as if she'd had a choice!

Natalie nodded her head and offered Juliana a nervous smile. Oliver turned to face the beautiful Spanish girl, who was now standing behind him. "Juliana, I trust you remember my daughter Natalie," he laughed uneasily. Why did he seem uncomfortable? Was he embarrassed of her?

Juliana stepped forward. "Of course I remember Natalie," she replied with a quick smile. "It would be difficult to forget the bosses daughter. But . .. I almost didn't recognize you. You've really, um . . . grown up." 

Bosses daughter? Was that how they saw her? Just as Oliver's daughter? She was an actress. Why was that such an impossible concept for people to grasp?

"But I guess it's been a long time, huh? Looks like we've both changed quite a bit since our days on Paradise Cove," Juliana chuckled easily. Was she laughing at her? Right in front of her face? In front of her father?

Oliver joined along, giggling like a naughty little schoolboy. Is he laughing at me, too? The blood in Natalie's veins turned to lava, and she felt her cheeks turn a deep shade of red. "Yes," she breathed uneasily. "It has been a long time." For some of us anyway.

"Would you like a drink, Natalie?" her father asked, gesturing toward the tray of glasses. 

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

"How are the roads? I hope they didn't give you any trouble."

Natalie had barely noticed the drive over, her mind was preoccupied by things more important than wet, slippery roads. "They were fine, father, thank you for asking." She gripped her bag a little closer to her side, taking comfort in it's bulky mass. Natalie focused her gaze on the man holding the drinks, willing him to acknowledge her with a smile or something, anything, that might distract her from her flourishing anxiety. Why had she even bothered to come to the meeting? Why had she decided to torture herself? Her father had already said his mind was made up . . . she would not be returning to the role of Cecelia. What made her think she'd be able to convince him otherwise?

The room grew increasingly quiet as an awkwardness blanketed over the small group. Without warning, the sound of the doorbell pierced through the stuffy air. The elegantly dressed man, scurried away to answer it, leaving Natalie alone with her enemies. Oh, God, please let this night go by quickly! Maybe she should just leave, make a quick escape? It's not as if she'd be missed. Natalie opened her mouth, getting ready to excuse herself, when someone entered the room . . . someone who had changed everything. Her breath caught in an unnerving lump in her throat.

Brooks . . .

Her eyes followed him as he walked into the room, noticing how the air seemed to warm in his presence. Or was that her? Tousled blond hair, and piercing blue eyes. He didn't just walk . . . he swaggered. He glided, as if on air, as graceful as a gazelle. He owned the room the minute he entered it.

"Brooks Kennedy!" Juliana nearly shouted, taking her by surprise. She marched over and threw her well-toned arms around his neck. "I have been trying to get a hold of you forever! How dare you avoid me," she scolded, but Natalie could see the teasing expression in her dark, almond-shaped eyes. "I have been so worried about you, amigo."

Brooks untangled himself from her tight grasp. "I'm sorry," he said, laughing slightly. "I've been staying with Miller and Claire. Reception isn't always great out this way."

He's been staying at Miller and Claire's? So that's where he had run off to.

"Miller," Juliana chided, swatting at the dark-haired boy. "You should have said something. It's not nice to keep secrets from friends."

Miller shrugged his shoulders and gave her a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was necessary. My bad."

As the two went back and forth, Brook's eyes began to sweep over the large room. Natalie's breath hitched tightly in her chest when his eyes locked with hers. The corner of Brooks' mouth tilted upward, and he gave her a slight nod. He was smiling! At her! Oh, the site of him sent her heart racing, to the point that she worried he would be able to hear the rapid thumps from across the room.

"Well, it looks as if people are able to make it after all," Oliver said, clearing his throat. "I was worried the rain might keep you away. I guess now all we're waiting on is Claire and Ashton."

"Sorry, Claire won't be joining us," Miller interjected. "She wanted to but had another obligation. She sends her apologies."

"Oh," Oliver said, his face crestfallen. "Well, I guess that just leaves Ashton then. Does anyone know if she plans to make it?"

All eyes turned toward Juliana, who suddenly looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "I'm not sure. I was unable to get a hold of her."

Natalie watched as Brooks studied his friend carefully, a look of confusion etched across his handsome face. Was it possible the pictures of Juliana and Ashton had unnerved him? Was he jealous? Did he have a thing for the obnoxious supermodel? No, surely he has better taste than that! But did he? After all, he'd been in the backseat with that disgusting teenager—she'd seen it with her very own eyes! Perhaps making bad choices was something he was destined to do for the rest of his life? Pig!

The close-nit group began to talk animatedly among themselves, leaving Natalie out of the conversation. She stood there, feeling like an idiot, just as she had done so many times in the past.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

As Anna pulled her car into the winding entrance, Claire noticed a silver Jaguar idling on the paved drive. "Elijah must be here already," she guessed. "That was quick. Anna, would you mind heading over to the meeting in my place? I'll stay here and talk to Elijah."

Anna shook her head, her soft blonde waves brushing the top of her shoulders. "Of course not. I'll give you a play by play as soon as it's over."

Before hopping out of the car, Claire jotted down Oliver's address on a loose receipt she found laying on the floor of Anna's car. "Be careful," she said as she shut the door behind her. Anna waved and Claire raced up the stairs and out of the rain as the car backed onto the street. Elijah followed quickly behind her, not missing a beat.

"Elijah," she said, reaching over to give him a warm hug. "It's so nice to see you." Claire unlocked the door and let them inside.

"You, too, Claire. Only, I wish it were under happier circumstances."

Claire set her purse down and hung her thin jacket up to dry while Elijah stood patiently near the front door, his lanky six foot two frame towering over her. "What's going on? You sounded pretty urgent on the phone."

"Yes, it is," he said, clearing his throat. "Miller put me to work finding out who the photographer was who had taken the, uh, pictures that appeared in Celebrity. He wants to press charges."

Claire's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Really? I hadn't realized he had asked you. Were you able to find out anything?" She tossed her damp hair over one shoulder and rubbed her hands together in an attempt to ward off the chill.

"Actually, I was able to come up with a name. But I have to admit, it really surprised me. I don't think this person is a stranger to you guys."

Claire shook her head, completely baffled. "I don't understand," she offered. "We know the photographer?"

Elijah nodded his head, his closely cropped hair glistening with raindrops. "I believe you do. Does the name Lee McGee sound familiar to you?"

Claire thought for a moment. The name did sound somewhat familiar. Lee McGee . . . It almost sounded like a cartoon! She began to shake her head, unable to place a face to the name.

"How about the name Natalie McGee?" he asked with wide coffee-brown eyes.

"Natalie McGee . . . Yes, that's Oliver's daughter, right? God, I haven't thought of her in ages," she realized. "Wait a minute . . . You're saying that Natalie McGee took those pictures?"

"I'm afraid so. Apparently, she goes by Lee in the paparazzi crowd. From the sound of it, she's been working on the side as a freelance photographer for just over a year now. She mostly sells her photos to the tabloids, whichever one is willing to pay the highest price. She's made quite a little nest egg for herself."

Claire's head began to spin. Natalie McGee? But why? Why would she do something so heinous? What had they ever done to her? And everyone she had hurt were at a meeting right now at the McGee house!

"Elijah, are you absolutely certain?"

"Absolutely, Claire. I wouldn't have come here otherwise."

"Well, thank you so much for meeting with me. I really appreciate the time you have taken to figure this out."

"No problem. You'll tell Miller then?" he asked, turning his large frame toward the door.

"Yes, I will. Thank you again."

"You bet. You take care now. Please tell Miller I will try to call again later."

Claire politely held open the door, ushering Elijah out into the storm. For a moment there, it had seemed as if the rain were starting to let up, but now it came down in buckets, pooling alongside the perimeter of the house.

"I will. Thanks again, Elijah. Drive safely. Give Meredith a hug from me," she said with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. As soon as he was out the door, Claire began to pace. She quickly called Miller's number only to have it go straight to voice mail. Damn reception! What was she supposed to do now? All of her friends were at Oliver's house, no doubt in the same room with the very person who had betrayed them all. Impatiently, she called again, but again the call went straight to the message system.

Without a second thought, Claire grabbed her purse and jacket and headed toward the garage. She opened the door to her navy BMW and settled herself into the driver's seat. As she pulled out, the rain hit the windshield in sharp, angry splats, forcing her to turn the wipers on full speed. As she inched her way out of the driveway, her heart began to pound. She hated driving even in the best of conditions. She had to be crazy setting out in this mess! But she had no choice. She needed to warn her friends about Natalie and what she had done. What could she be capable of next?

Claire squinted her eyes as she tried to make out the Pacific Coast Highway in front of her. The rain made it difficult to tell where one lane ended and the next one began. Dear God, please let me get there safely, she silently prayed, as her blanched knuckles gripped the steering wheel tightly.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Marvin Gillespie carefully maneuvered his immaculate 2006 Cadillac sedan around the twists and turns of the Pacific Coast Highway, trying desperately to tune out the long-winded gripes of his wife, Ethel. Fifty-one long years they had been married, and he felt every last one of them.

"Marvin, I told you we should have stayed off the highway. It's a slippery mess every single time it rains! But no, you never listen to me. Apparently, I waste my time talking to the likes of you. You know, someday you're going to wish you had listened to me more, but it'll be too late. I'll be dead in the ground and you'll be wishing you had payed closer attention while you'd had the chance," his wife whined smugly.

"Oh, who are you kidding, Ethel? You'll never die. I couldn't be possibly that lucky," he added underneath his breath.

"You say that now, but mark my words, Marvin. One day you'll wish—hey, watch it!" she hollered suddenly at the navy BMW in front of them. "Would you look at that? Another moron on the road! Do you see the way that car is swerving? They're gonna kill someone if they're not careful!"

Marvin shook his head. If there was one thing he and his wife did agree on, it was the lack of educated driver's on the road these days. Every single one was always rushing around, in a hurry to get to wherever they were going. Talking on their cell phones and listening to pornographic rap music! It was no wonder the country was in the shape it was in today. Why, things had been very different when he was a young man. Back in the day, people cared about what they were doing, they took pride in it! Of course, he'd seen his share of snakes, too. You didn't survive the war without learning a few things about life. If he had a nickel for every time—

Suddenly, the sound of Ethel screeching interrupted his thoughts. "What is that car doing? Stay back, Marvin. I don't want to be near them when they finally crash."

And no sooner were the words out of her mouth, when the navy BMW did crash. It skid right off the road and tumbled three times, tail over head. Marvin slowed his Caddy to a halt, and stared at the tangled mess of metal in front of them.

It would be a miracle if anyone in that car made it out alive. 

Will Ashton find out who her father is? Find out in Chapter 28!

Hello, and welcome to Fast Lane! If you enjoyed this chapter, I ask that you please leave a vote/comment.

(Chapter 27 approx. 3, 900)