Ch18

Claire rolled over in bed and reached out for Miller, but her hand was met by an empty space. She sat up and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. 10:15 am. Of course Miller would have gotten up by now, it was so late! She fell back into the soft pillows and sighed.

What a night! One minute she was feeling fine, the next minute she could barely stand. A severe bout of dizziness overcame her and she suddenly collapsed. And just when Miller was starting to relax! Claire felt horrible worrying both him and Brooks, knowing they each had enough on their minds, but it couldn't be helped. She'd been feeling increasingly exhausted. No one ever said pregnancy would be easy, but she had not expected this!

Miller had been so sweet. After she convinced him not to rush her to the hospital, he stayed by her side all night, tending to her every need. She'd managed to convince him she was coming down with something, and he seemed to believe her, but she felt so guilty lying. If there was one thing she knew for sure, she could not put off telling him about the baby any longer. The time had come for her to finally fess up, despite everything he had on his plate. There was no way she could mask the pregnancy any longer, especially now that her symptoms were making themselves known. She would just have to convince him that everything would work out; that the baby was an unexpected gift, and things would be fine. Miller would make a wonderful father; she had no doubt about that. And once he got over the initial shock, he would be thrilled, just as she was. After she was able to explain why she had held off telling him right away, he would appreciate and understand her reasoning, she knew he would. He had to. After all, she'd kept it from him for his own good. She'd wanted Miller in high spirits when she announced they were expecting, so he could concentrate on the little family they were creating. Sadly, that was a luxury she could no longer afford.

Claire slowly sat up on the side of the bed, careful not to stand if dizziness overwhelmed her. She'd read online that many mothers-to-be experienced a lightheaded sensation during their first trimester, and that it was nothing to worry about. Her first doctor's appointment was coming up and she could not wait to get in, just to confirm everything was okay. She'd heard horror stories of many pregnancies ending abruptly that early on and she wanted to make sure their baby was healthy and growing the way he or she was supposed to be. Carefully, she stood up and reached for her robe, bringing it around her shoulders. She slid on her slippers and made her way down the hall and into the front room.

"Claire," Brooks greeted her and stood up quickly from the comfortable leather chair he sat in. "How are you feeling?" He made his way toward her and guided her into a chair.

She couldn't help but smile. "I'm fine, Brooks, really. I feel much better this morning."

"You gave us quite a scare, you know," he said, sitting in a chair across from her. "I've never seen Miller so worried before."

"I'm sorry," she said with a regretful smile. "I didn't mean to worry you two. Where is Miller? I'd like to speak with him," she asked, looking around. Now that she'd made up her mind to be truthful, she didn't want to put it off any longer.

"He had to go out for a little while. He made me promise to stay here and look after you."

Claire's eyebrows hitched together in confusion. What did Miller have to do that was so important? He'd been so attentive to her the night before, it surprised her he hadn't waited until she woke up to see how she was feeling. "Oh, Brooks! You don't have to do that, I'm fine. Miller should have never made me your responsibility."

"Oh, no. There's no way I'm leaving you. Not after last night," he explained. "You looked horrible, Claire-no offense. You turned pale as a ghost. I've never seen anything like it."

But Claire was barely listening. "Did he say where he was going, or when he'd be back?"

Brooks shook his head. "He just said he had an errand to run and that he shouldn't be long. Why? Would you like me to call him for you?"

Another errand? If the screenplay was winding down, what in the world was keeping Miller so busy? "No. It can wait. Brooks, if it's not too much trouble, would you please bring me a glass of orange juice?"

"No problem, Claire-Bear! Anything for you," he said cheerfully and jumped up from the chair.

Okay, it's going to be fine, she thought, trying to remain positive. You'll just have to wait and tell him when he gets home.

She only hoped he hurried, before she lost the nerve . . .

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

What an amazing night, Juliana sighed happily, as she enjoyed a late morning stroll down Rodeo Drive. She passed Dolce & Gabbana and Coach and didn't even stop in as she normally would have. Window shopping typically helped clear her mind, and after the evening she'd spent with her friend, there were plenty of "what-ifs" keeping her occupied.

There was no denying it any longer; she wanted to find out where a relationship with Ashton would go if they gave it a chance. She didn't care what their friends thought, either. If they couldn't accept her and Ashton together as a couple, then they were never real friends to begin with. Juliana knew the news would come as quite a shock, but once they realized it was for real and not some fad they were trying out for fun, they would have to be happy for them. Right?

Ashton had been so sweet to her, helping to calm her after her Vivian Landsbury mini-breakdown. Juliana knew she really cared for her, now she just needed to know if she cared for her as more than just a friend. The last thing she wanted to do was bring it up only to find out Ashton wasn't interested in her that way, then she ran the risk of possibly ruining their friendship for good. But deep down, she sensed her friend was up for the challenge. After all, Ashton had spent the entire night with her, breaking the one golden rule she never gave into. Surely, that counted for something, right? Only, how to bring up the delicate situation and not look like ass-of-the-year?

If she was going to do it, she would have to do it soon. No way could stand watching Ashton go out with Martin Berkovich again, even though her friend swore up and down it was for publicity purposes only. She'd always been so worried about people finding out about their secret affair that she went to great lengths to make it appear as though she were involved with the up-and-coming movie actor. Juliana couldn't stand it! Jealousy consumed her every time she knew the two were meeting up, and no matter what she did, she was unable to shake the unease she felt. In all her years dating, she'd never once felt threatened by another. Ha-if Martin only knew the truth! He didn't have to worry about another man sneaking in and stealing Ashton away. He had to worry about a woman! What a blow that would be to his fragile male ego when he found out the truth!

God, you're such a bitch, she sighed heavily. She didn't mean to be. She knew Martin didn't deserve the sneaking around behind his back. In fact, from what she could tell, he seemed like a rather decent guy. Juliana also realized that Ashton did like him. Maybe not in that kind of way, but they'd definitely developed a friendship over the past several months. It wasn't as if she wanted to hurt the poor guy.

But all was fair in love and war.

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

What a fucked up situation! If there was one couple Brooks thought would prance off into the sunset together, it was Miller and Claire. But what he'd been observing at their house was anything but blissful.

Who leaves their sick girlfriend home alone after they've just passed out, for Christ-sakes!

It wasn't right. What was going on? He used to think he'd be happy if his two friends split up, but he realized now that he wouldn't be. They're meant to be together! What the hell is Miller up to? Is it possible his friend was seeing someone else? That he was cheating on Claire behind her back?

No. Impossible. Claire was perfect. She was beautiful and smart and funny and kind, truly the kindest person he had ever met-and that was not easy to come by in this town. There was no way Miller would be stupid enough to go behind her back.

And poor Claire! As sick as she was, now she had to worry about Miller and what he was up to! Her worried expression had not escaped him when she asked about her boyfriend's whereabouts, and he couldn't blame her. Miller's departure that morning made no sense. Brooks tried to distract her and make light of the situation. He made her a plate of fresh fruit and a small bowl of cottage cheese then sent her back to bed. Hopefully, she would just fall asleep and forget Miller was not home. With any luck, he'd be back home long before she awoke.

"Well, you look deep in thought," came a gentle voice from beside him. He jumped up from his spot relaxing on the couch to find Anna Lowery staring at him with an amused expression. "I'm sorry," she laughed. "I didn't mean to startle you!" He'd never even heard her enter the room.

Brooks straightened his shoulders and adopted the most macho stance he was capable of on such short notice. "You didn't scare me; I just didn't hear you come in, is all." But the look on her face revealed she did not believe a word he said; only she was too nice to call him out on it.

"Is Claire around? I was supposed to meet with her today to help go over the scripts." she asked, obviously trying to ease his discomfort.

Brooks shook his head, brushing a lock of blond hair from his face. "Oh, sorry, she must have forgotten about it," he began, not sure how much information he should give away. "She wasn't feeling well and went back to bed."

Anna's brows crinkled together. "She's not feeling well?" she asked with concern. "She wasn't feeling well the other day, either. I hope she's not coming down with something. We have a lot of work to do."

Brooks swallowed hard and plunged forward, unable to keep himself from asking. "Have you noticed anything weird going on here, lately? I mean, with Miller and Claire? Things just seem sort of . . . off." He hated going behind his friends' backs but he needed to understand what was going on.

Slowly, Anna nodded her head. "They've both been distracted," she agreed. "I tried to ask Claire about it the other day but she came up with little excuses. Honestly, I've been a bit worried. It's not like them to allow outside interference into their home."

"I thought so! I was starting to wonder if it was just me, but something is definitely going on with those two." Now that his suspicions were confirmed, it felt wrong continuing to talk about them. "So," he stalled, hoping to keep her around for a while. "Is there anything I can help you with? I know I'm not Claire, but maybe there's something I can do."

Anna's cheeks turned pink and she smiled, turning away. "Well, we were going to go over some scripts. I guess you could help me make different piles," she shrugged. "I have a pretty good idea what Claire likes and what she doesn't like. We could maybe separate the scripts into a "No" pile, "Maybe" pile, and a "Yes" pile?"

Was it his imagination, or did she seem like she wanted to spend some time with him?

"Sounds good," he said, and threw her his "boyish" grin. Girls always seemed to love that one. "Why don't you go out onto the patio and I'll bring us some lemonade? Claire always keeps some in the fridge," he suggested, and watched her as she walked out the backdoor.

Here he was, Brooks Kennedy, making one girl breakfast and serving another one lemonade! What the hell was going on?

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

Miller drove his SUV straight into downtown, not even bothering to park in his usual spot. There was no time to waste, he wasn't playing games anymore. Now that he settled on bringing Marie home, he didn't want to wait any longer. She would just have to accept the fact that he was not who he said he was. She would just have to deal with it and allow him to remove her from the depths of hell she was living in. Once he got her to listen to his side of the story, she would understand-she would have to. He was doing this for her. Because he cared about her well-being. Who could be upset about that?

He drove his vehicle as slowly as traffic would allow, past all the spots where he knew she hung out. He kept his eyes open, observing the crowds that littered the busy streets. Marie was normally easy to spot; it was difficult to miss that curly head of hair. If he didn't know any better, he would swear they could be brother and sister. Again, he wondered if the courts would allow him and Claire to provide the foster home for her. Would they actually grant a request to have her live with them? What a kick that would be if it happened! It had to happen; he wouldn't trust anyone else with her, not with all of the crazy people out there in the world.

God, why was she so difficult to find these days? If that bastard he'd seen her with the other day so much as laid a finger on her, he would never forgive himself! If only he could have come searching for her last night like he'd planned, but then Claire had gotten sick, and his intention had been postponed. Not anymore. Today was the day. Today he was going to convince Marie to leave the streets once and for all.

He backtracked and drove down the streets again, making sure he hadn't missed her the first time before finally heading in the direction of MacArthur Park. He parked at the curb and threw some change into the meter before making his way past the pond toward the area he knew she resided. He looked around at the disarray the park was in. Miller didn't know if it was a scarier place at night, when it was difficult to see its dilapidated state, or during the day when it was obvious.

He walked past The Purple Prophet, methodically preaching the words of the Bible, and slipped a few dollars into his dirty hand. As he made his way down the trail, he passed a few other faces he'd come to recognize over the past several months, and politely nodded in their direction. There was no time to talk, he had work to do. When he approached the playground Marie called home, he was overwhelmed by the stench of dirt and urine that was a constant in the area. MacArthur Park had become one of the largest homeless encampments in the area, and he couldn't wait to get Marie out of there. He wandered slowly, carefully checking every nook and cranny.

Come on, Marie, where the hell are you hiding?

Miller took his time and retraced his steps. He wasn't leaving without her, no matter how long it took; he wasn't going home without Marie.

"Hey, dickhead," an unpleasant female voice called from behind. Miller turned around and saw the girl with the magenta spikes sashaying toward him, a smug look covering her pocked face. "What the hell are you doin' here?"

Miller cleared his throat, aware of the potential danger the teenage girl presented. Who knew what she had on her? A knife? A dirty needle? Every instinct warned him not to get too close. "I'm looking for Marie," he stated, his voice steady and strong. There was no way he was running off now, not when he was so close to finding her.

Magenta Spikes laughed roughly. "What is it with you and sweet little Marie, anyway? You sleepin' with her? She giving you a free piece-of-ass on the side?"

Anger began to soar through him. How dare this person insult Marie this way? She didn't deserve to be disrespected like that, and he would see to it she never would be again.

"What's it to you?" he asked, unable to keep the irritation from his voice.

The girl shrugged her shoulders. "It's no sweat off my back, man. It's just a shame you're lookin' in the wrong place."

It was obvious she had no intention of sharing with him what she knew. She wanted him to ask. She wanted to make him look stupid.

"Okay," he said, taking the bait. "Where is she then?"

Magenta Spikes' face broke out into a cruel smile. "You'll find her at the city morgue."

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

The Young Woman's work was finally done. Within the next couple of days, everything she'd struggled for would finally come to fruition.

She was paid a handsome sum of money for the pictures she'd sold to the supermarket tabloid, Celebrity. Pictures of some of the most beloved young stars in the most compromising of situations.

Careers would be ruined . . . Relationships would be ruined . . .

But they all deserved it. Every last one of them.

And she could not wait until the shit hit the fan.

Will The Young Woman find the revenge she's been working towards? Find out in Chapter 19!

Hello and thank you for reading Fast Lane! If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a vote/comment! Take a peek at the media section for a picture of Ashton's mother, Marilyn Montgomery!

(Chapter 18 approx. 3,050 words)