“Yeah, I guess I should just concentrate on being happy that he’ll be out of her life soon.” He paused. “You happy with it?”
Looking at him in confusion, I found him staring at the painting. Realizing what he meant, I nodded. Yeah, I was satisfied with the second layer. “Time to put the resin on. Which means I need to put the varnish on first. I know how you love the smell.”
“Is that your subtle way of telling me to leave?” He sat up on the bed.
“Like I would.” I pretended to be affronted by the idea.
Instead of playing along, Asher narrowed his eyes. “You know I know there’s something going on with you, right?”
Asher, I should say, Jamie’s back and he hates me. He hates me because he blames me for everything that happened. And he hates me because of you.
Despite what Jamie thought, and what the world thought, Asher was just my best friend. We became friends over three years ago. By accident. I’d gotten an invitation to a party at Foster Steadman’s home. I had no strategy, but I’d naively hoped some great master plan would come to me when I got within touching distance of the bastard.
Instead, upon seeing Foster, I was sick to my stomach. Skye’s voice, her words, filled my head, and tears had swum in my eyes. Until that moment, I had never considered myself to be a violent person, but I’d wanted to claw Foster Steadman’s face off.
I’d followed him as he left the main area of the party and watched him and his son disappear into a private room. Eavesdropping, I’d overheard Foster verbally ripping Asher to shreds. No parent should ever say what he said to his son that night. While they argued, I found my way to Steadman’s office and ransacked it.
It was Asher who caught me. He was furious to find me there.
Frightened he would call the police, I’d taken a risk, thinking about what I’d heard between him and his dad. I’d told him the truth. I’d told him everything.
To both of our surprise, we formed a connection.
And it turned out he already knew about his father. He’d witnessed the cover-ups.
Asher wanted to bring his father to justice, even if it meant damaging his family’s reputation. He was a good man. Together, we’d tried to bring Foster down, but we couldn’t find any solid evidence to do so. We’d descended into minor sabotage, which left us both feeling hollow, just half-hearted attempts because Asher couldn’t be pushed, and I, despite what I wanted, didn’t want to push my friend.
We ruined a relationship between Foster and his favorite mistress by sending her photographs of Foster visiting the same well-known, high-end brothel depicted in the photos Rita received. We also leaked a script that he’d wanted to buy to his competitor, who then outbid him. And Asher played a game of telephone to recommend a crappy investment that lost Foster a million dollars.
I knew Asher was finally ready to drop the ax on his father, but all the seedier stuff amounted to rumors at this point. As Asher had explained to me many times, none of the girls were willing to talk. Foster had paid them off, and they were afraid of jeopardizing their careers. That’s what they said. But I knew they were also afraid no one would believe them. I knew because that’s how she felt.
I should just tell Asher about Jamie. To let go of all the pain his faithlessness had caused. It was eating at me. A festering wound. A scream I couldn’t let go. Because if I did, if I told Asher, he would tell me to tell Jamie the truth. He’d give up his secret for me.
Asher would tell me it was unhealthy to hold a grudge against Jamie. To deliberately withhold the truth. To be at war with him when I didn’t have to be. To keep causing him pain in return for the hurt he’d inflicted when he broke up with me.
I didn’t want that from Asher.
I was already constantly arguing with my conscience.
But the hurt Jamie had caused was too great.
“I’m worried about you, that’s all.” I avoided his question with a truth.
“I’ll be fine. If this person wasn’t out there knowing shit about my family he or she shouldn’t know, I’d be dancing a jig right now that my mother is