Half an hour later, the piece was done. After wrapping the arm and giving the client the usual spiel about aftercare, Ash showed him to the front desk.
She risked another glance at the two young women as the guy fished his wallet out of his pocket. To her utter relief, they sat close together, laughing.
The client left, and Ash strolled as casually as she could manage over to the sofa. “Hi, Trina.”
Trina looked up. “Hey, Ash. All right?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Ash looked across at Sophie. “Okay?”
Sophie’s smile was so wide she looked like a cartoon character. “Totally cool.” She grabbed her friend’s hand and squeezed.
Trina rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s okay!”
Ash gave her a quick nod. “Thanks. It’s never easy, you know.”
Trina’s expression turned serious. “I get that. But, you know, Sophie’s my bestie. There’s nothing she could tell me that would make me forget that.” She turned to Sophie and grinned. “Well, unless she told me she was in love with that arsehole Justin Bieber. Then we’d have a big problem.”
Sophie laughed. “I think you’re safe.” She looked up at Ash. “Thanks for telling me to tell her. I know I took a bit of time, but you were right. I feel so much better for just getting it out there.”
“I’m pleased.” Ash hugged her. “Listen, why don’t you two take off? Go grab a McDonald’s or something?” She pulled a twenty from her wallet and handed it to Sophie.
“Really?” Sophie’s whole face lit up.
Laughing, Ash stepped away from the sofa. “Yes, really. Go on, have some fun.”
“Cool. Thanks, Ash.” Trina beamed at her.
The girls left, and the studio fell silent. She had a twenty-minute gap until her next client, so she made herself a tea and sat on the sofa, gazing unseeing out of the big window. The late-afternoon sun cast a soft golden glow onto the wings of the phoenix painted on the glass. Every time she looked at the image, her pride at what she’d achieved and at how she’d turned her life around swelled. She’d worked hard, not only on her business but also on figuring herself out, and her emotional strength these days was a huge source of satisfaction.
Her mind returned to her earlier troubling thoughts of Carmen and where her feelings were leading her. She’s straight, her protective inner voice said, trying to stop the internal conversation in its tracks.
Ash sighed. Yes, Carmen was straight, and even if she was curious about what being with a woman was like, Ash’s past made her immediately want to back away from what that could lead to. But Carmen was also beautiful, intelligent, amusing, and driven to succeed, something that Ash always admired in a woman. Something else she admired was a woman who remained kind alongside that drive, and Carmen was all that.
So what were her options? Stop seeing Carmen? That thought just made Ash feel sad. So keep seeing her, but always with the awareness of the dangerous line she was walking between friendship and wanting something more. She’d be able to control that, wouldn’t she? After all, what happened with Vikki was lesson enough. You’re a strong person now, and you haven’t run from anything in years. You can handle this if you keep your wits about you.
Pep talk complete, Ash finished her tea and walked to the counter near the chair. Her sketchbook was wedged behind a box of disposable gloves, and she tugged it out. Determined, she ripped out the page containing the sketch of Carmen and crumpled it up into a ball.
Chapter 23
“Annabella, I think I’m going to have to say no to that idea.” Carmen leaned her chin on her hand, the phone pressed to her ear, and barely managed to bite back an exasperated sigh. And it’s only Monday morning. God help me.
Across the room, Monica caught her eye and smiled knowingly.
Carmen had to look away to avoid laughing.
“But everyone is going on that show and doing something outrageous,” Annabella Mitchell whined in her ear.
Carmen was thankful that the technology of phones prevented her from reaching into the receiver and slapping the woman. “I know, and I know it’s very popular. But honestly, you’re not hearing what I am from the best directors and producers in the business about the people who are going on it. I’ll be frank: they’re not impressed. It’s seen as, well, you know, cheap. And tacky. And we’re trying to do better for you than that, aren’t we?”
Annabella sighed.
“And while I’m sure your, um, sex toy collection is impressive”—across the room Monica snorted, but Carmen didn’t dare meet her eye—“I honestly think you need to consider the long game here. Five minutes on the front pages next week isn’t going to be worth anything the week after if no one will work with you.”
“Ugh, I suppose you’re right.”
“You know I am. Have I ever steered you wrong before?”
“No, I suppose not.”
God, it was like talking to a six-year-old, not a woman in her mid-thirties who’d been the darling of Britain’s top-rated soap for the last eight years. Clients like this made Carmen wonder why she’d ever wanted to work in this business.
“So you carry on as you are and leave me to work my magic, yes? I’ve got a couple of good leads I’m following, and I’m sure I can get you something worthwhile very soon.”
Another big sigh. “Okay, Carmen. Thanks, darling, you’re the best.”
I know , Carmen thought as she hung up, just before she laid her head down on the desk.
Monica’s laughter spilled out as if expelled from a cannon, and Carmen shot upright again.
“Sex toy collection?” Monica spluttered.
“Don’t.” Carmen held up a hand. “She wanted to show the whole lot off on that reality show, My Secret Passion . Some friend of hers thought it would be good for her image. Make her seem more interesting.”
Monica laughed so hard she clutched at her side with one hand while the other
