Nothing Camilla had said made Brooke give up the comfort of being home and the freedom to recharge in a place where she didn't feel the weight of being judged.
"Two minutes away," she texted Brooke, then slid her phone into her coat's pocket like it was hot. Her driver kept his eyes forward. She couldn't tell if it was professionalism or mercy.
Brooke met her at the door with open arms. "You're here." All smiles and excitement like she had not seen her for a year. Ashley breathed in the familiar scent of Brooke's perfume and the even more familiar scent of her home.
"I'm here," she said, and they both knew what she meant was I'm not at my parents' house today.
"Water, tea, legally acceptable sedatives?" Brooke asked, motioning to the small tray she kept for friends or clients. In Ashley's case, there was an overlap there that Ashley found comforting."Water," Ashley said, sitting. Her knees felt wobbly, like she'd walked too far in the wrong shoes.
Brooke handed her a glass and took the seat opposite, tucking one ankle behind the other. "Tell me everything. Start where it hurts least."
Ashley laughed, which made something tight in her chest unclench for a second. Ashley sipped, letting the cold shock her mouth awake.
"It's everywhere. I can't even open a fridge at home, without the milk forming letters about the leak."
She stared down at the water, and saw her warped reflection blink. "Camila came by last night."Brooke's brows lifted a millimeter. "Like, to your parent's house? How did that go?"
"Terrible," Ashley said. "She had quite a lot to say."Brooke's mouth tugged at one corner. "What did she say?"
" Blamed me for not being at Julian's side as opposed to my parents. Something about a marriage being a contract and that I was breaching mine." Ashley set the water down before her hands could betray the tremor in her wrists. "She said it kindly. That's what made it worse. Like i cant fucking take a breather in the marriage."
" Any ways that didn't stop me from sleeping over either. I will be heading home as soon as I leave here though."
The ease with which she said 'home' did not go unnoticed by the both of them, even though neither of them bothered to acknowledge it.
Brooke was quiet. "Do you want me to be your friend right now," she asked softly, "or your lawyer?""Both," Ashley said, too fast. "I don't have the luxury of compartmentalizing today.""As your friend," Brooke said, "you're allowed to have left. You're allowed to need your parents. You're allowed to be human while the internet plays god."
Ashley closed her eyes and let that settle, a warm cloth over a bruise.
"And as your lawyer," Brooke continued, "Camila's not wrong about the optics of it all. If we want the board to stop sniffing for blood, being at Julian's side is cleaner.
It doesn't mean you have to like him today. It just means you're shoring up your defence." She lifted a shoulder.
Ashley opened her eyes. "I hate that she's right."
Brooke said, "You're both right. Two truths can co-exist. So what else did she say?"
Ashley suddenly remembered the aspersions Camila casted "She asked who benefitted more from the ruckus," Ashley murmured. "Not the obvious answer. Not the board factions alone. She hinted it was someone who knew Julian. Who understood his rhythms. And then looked at me like she was weighing me on a scale and I was kinda found wanting."
Brooke's fingers tapped once on the arm of her chair, thinking. "Did she give a name?"
"No. She was speculating in a specific way, I guess Julian would know better."
Brooke glanced at the manila envelope. "They're still tracking the subsidiary incorporation leads, do you think the same people might be responsible for this?" she said. Ashley exhaled, a fragile thread of relief. "I don't think so. Dad did his own digging, which was impressive by the way. But guess what? The licence was accessed from blackwood server"
Brooke's eyes widened again. "That's some creepy shit. Told Julian yet or are you waiting till you get home?"Ashley swallowed hard. "It has to be done in person."She quickly added, "You actually look…rested, how have you been? Enough of me."
"I met Neville recently for a document drop," Brooke said, like it wasn't a sentence that could rearrange oxygen. "We talked shop. Drank coffee."
"Neville Fletcher?" Ashley's voice and tone did something undignified. "Julian's…the lawyer who shepherded the printing press paperwork and negotiated the marriage contract with you, yes?"
Brooke's tone tried for cool. "Yep, it was nothing."Ashley grinned despite the storm inside her. "Nothing with a smirk and good suit?"
"He is a divorcee," Brooke said, too casually, then seemed to regret the addendum, like she was doing too much.
"Oh," Ashley said softly, because she knew that particular bruise. "Did he seem…kind about it? Or weaponized?"
"Neither. Just honest and vulnerable. Which feels rare right now."
Ashley let herself stay in Brooke's world for exactly three seconds. Then her world returned. "Okay. Focus. Back to me, sorry" She sat forward. " We will be having a press conference tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Brooke asked in disbelief. "We are to keep it narrow i guess. Acknowledge the leak. Emphasizing the way we got married, doesn't negate our love for each other. No speculation. No blood in the water for the sharks to smell. And we keep it moving."
Brooke weighed the response mentally and shrugged in agreement. "Sounds good to me. Clean and efficient. You'll stand beside Julian. Showing unwavering support to your husband and how unified you remain despite the malicious intent of the headlines. If anyone takes a cheap shot, you do not return it. They want friction. You give them nothing."
Ashley nodded, fighting the instinct to sharpen herself into a weapon.
"I can do that."
"Great." Brooke's smile was small and approving. "Also, your parents. If press loiters on their street, we'll have a letter ready to remind everyone that harassment is a poor look."
"They put up a hand-painted sign last night," Ashley said, a laugh caught in her throat. "It says, 'No Comment. Try the Bakery two blocks down."
Brooke's laugh was bright enough to reach the windows. "I love them."
"They're ridiculous," Ashley said , affection and frustration braided. "But they're mine."
Ashley looked down at her phone as if it might object. It stayed blank and glassy.
"Okay. I have to go now. Julian might be wondering why i aint back yet." Not that he cared or had missed her she taught sadly.
Brooke stood, smoothing her skirt, then crossed to the slab and picked up the envelope, turning it over once in her hands as if it might hum. "I'll walk you out, here's your copy of the Investor Agreement, keep it safe. Let's get you to your car without giving the neighbors a show."
The driver pulled up and she settled in "Text me when you're home," Brooke said. "And if Camila calls you directly, loop me in. Oh say hello to that hot husband of yours."
She then lowered her voice in a conspiratorial tone, " I can't believe you ain't tapping that, you both letting each other go to waste."
Ashley laughed, "You've gone mad Brooke."
"It's true," Brooke countered, shutting the door.
Brooke waited till her car disappeared before she proceeded inside. She suddenly felt guilty about her meeting with Neville.
She didn't disclose all that had transpired, the innuendos, the flirting. It would seem like a conflict of interest she told herself. But then again, would it? If Mr. and Mrs. actually got past their pride? And became one in the real sense? She quickly dismissed the idle thoughts because he hadn't even called her and there was no point wallowing in what ifs.
Ashley's car merged into traffic, and the city resumed being the city, rude, indifferent and alive.
Ashley rested her head against the cool window and watched buildings go past like thoughts. Her phone stayed quiet long enough for her to believe in the quiet till It buzzed.Not a news alert. Not her mother. It was Julian, talk of the Devil. Her heat skipped in anticipation. It only read, Where are you?
Three words, no punctuation, and somehow that, was the point. The message felt like it had run to reach her.
She tapped his name to call, pulse ratcheting up. It rang once, twice, then the hollow click of a call failing. She tried again. Straight to voicemail.
The number you have dialed is switched off or out of coverage. She told the driver, voice sharper than she meant. "Take an alternative route and get me home now."
He glanced at her in the mirror, no questions.
The car curved hard at the next light, tires whispering on wet asphalt.
Ashley gripped her phone, staring at the three words as if they might sprout more. They didn't.
Where are you?Ashley didn't blink until the estate gates appeared like two black parentheses ahead, opening on command, the car slipping through the sentence they made, racing home to Julian.