Ch21

Claire walked barefoot on the white sands of the beach, her anxiety mounting with every step as she made her way toward Miller. She could see him in the distance, perched on a large rock near the edge of the shore, the waves of the Pacific splashing up around him. The puzzle pieces were starting to fit together. For the past several months, Miller had been so busy and stressed, she assumed it was because of his work on Runaway. Now she knew she'd been naive. Was he even working on the screenplay all that time, or had he been busy with other interests?

There was no way he could deny the presence of another woman in life - if you could even call her a woman! She was just a girl, she couldn't have been more than fifteen. There had to be another expanation, but the proof she needed was right there in her hands. It was definitely Miller on the pages of the magazine, his arms wrapped protectively around a curly-haired female. You could clearly see the need on his face, it was evident by the way he looked at her. And this girl had feelings for him, too, there was an intimacy visible in both of their eyes. Claire couldn't quite make out the context of their expressions, but there was something solid there between the two of them.

As disturbing as the photographs were to look at, she was most unsettled by the final images, pictures of the girl with her eyes closed, her lifeless body being carried away on a stretcher. The article had stated the girl was dead, the victim of a drug overdose. Could it be true? And what did Miller know about it, what did he know about her? She'd read in the pages of the tabloid that the girl, who went by the name of Marie, was homeless, that she'd lived on the streets of Hollywood for more than a year. What was Miller doing mixed up in that crowd? If he did care for this Marie, and the pictures proved he obviously did, it was no wonder he'd been so upset the past several days. In all the years she had known him, she'd never seen him so despondent.

Claire had no idea what was going on but she was determined to find out. Miller was not going anywhere until he told her the truth. The whole truth. He owed that to her . . . and their baby.

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

"Dammit, Ashton - pick up the phone," Juliana screamed into the mouthpiece before tossing her cell to the passenger seat in a fit of panic.

She'd been trying to get a hold of her friend since she hung up with Vivian, anxious to inform her about the magazine before she found out from someone else.

"How could this have happened?" she cried out, furiously wiping at her tear-soaked cheeks. "Ashton's gonna freak!" Her friend was adamant about not letting their affair leak out into the public, and now this! There was no way in hell she would ever consider a relationship after she saw the intrusive pictures someone had taken. Juliana held onto the hope, especially after their night spent together, that Ashton might be open to discussing the possibilities, but that dream had been squashed the minute the tabloid made a spectacle of them.

But how? Who had taken the pictures? How had they known?

Whoever had done it had obviously followed them home. The pervert had quietly spied on them through the window as they . . . Oh, God - it was too much to think about! The very idea that someone had purposely violated their privacy made Juliana's skin crawl. She was no stranger to having her life on display for the world to see, but there had to be a line drawn somewhere! They deserved to have a secluded retreat where they could live without the worry of publicity. Why is it that just because a person was famous they lost their right to some secrecy?

Juliana pulled into the winding drive of Ashton's Hombly Hill's residence and parked next to a brand new, shiny black pick-up truck sitting near the entrance.

Shit! Please don't let someone have told her already. I need to be the one!

Juliana rushed up the stairs and began pounding on the door, praying whoever was there had not beat her to the punch. When a distressed-looking Ashton opened the door several moments later, Juliana knew she was too late. "You know, don't you? You've seen the pictures?" Juliana questioned, watching Ashton's reaction with steadfast eyes. "Oh, amiga, I'm so sorry!" She rushed toward her friend and threw her arms around her neck, hating to see the look of worry that painted her face.

"Who could have done this?" Ashton whispered, the warmth of her breath brushing against Juliana's neck.

"I don't know," Juliana admitted as she pulled away. "But we'll find out, and when we do , we'll sue the pants off them! We'll get them on slander and invasion of privacy!" she threatened, completely outraged.

"But it's not slander, it's true," the redhead whispered back. "It's so obvious the photos are real!"

"Why are you whispering?" Juliana demanded. "Who's here?" She peered around Ashton and found Martin standing uncomfortably behind her. Juliana turned her eyes toward her friend, waiting for an explanation. She'd never met the actor before but knew exactly who he was.

Ashton stepped aside and let Juliana into the house. "I don't think you two have ever met," she offered quietly. "Juliana, this is Martin Berkovich. Martin, this is my friend, Juliana Santiago. Martin came here to show me the magazine," she sad, turning pleading eyes toward Juliana, eyes that screamed "don't-you-dare-say-a-word".

Juliana regarded Martin through narrowed slits. He stood before them, fidgeting awkwardly. "It's-um-nice to meet you, Juliana. I've heard a lot about you."

"Is that so?" she challenged, ready to convince him of their innocence. "Then you must know that Ashton and I are best friends and these pictures are outlandish lies! It's so obvious they've been tampered with by some amateur photographer out to make a quick buck."

"Of-of course they are," he stammered. "I was just telling Ashton the same thing. "Slowly, he made his way closer to the open door, clearly looking to escape. "I'm going to get going, it looks like you two have a lot to-uh-discuss. He planted a quick kiss on Ashton's cheek as he moved through the threshold. "I'll call you later, Ashton. Take care," he added, throwing Juliana a small wave before scurrying down the steps and toward the black pick-up.

The girls watched him pull away before Ashton spoke up. "He knows."

Juliana stared at her with wide-eyes. "He knows what?" she asked slowly.

She watched as her friend drug manicured fingers through long auburn curls. "He knows the pictures are real, Juliana, it's pretty obvious they are," she answered with an ill-humored laugh. "Whoever took them did a helluva job capturing the moment."

Juliana stalled for a minute, wishing she could make everything alright. If there was one thing Ashton had made clear it was that she did not want anyone finding out about the two of them, but now the world would know what they've been up to. It never had bothered her all that much if people found out, but Ashton was worried about her career, about being taken seriously. She also worried about her mother's reaction-even if she wouldn't admit it-and she was certain it was weighing on her mind right now. "I'm sorry, Ashton. I don't what to say."

"What's there to say?" she asked with a sullen shrug. "The damage is done. No matter what we do, the pictures are already out there for everyone to see."

Dammit! How had this happened? Everything between the two of them had been going so smoothly, progressing even, and now this. Juliana reached out, trying to comfort her friend with a hug, but Ashton dodged her embrace. "I just need some time, Juliana. I can't do this right now."

Juliana dropped her arms, crestfallen. "I understand. Maybe we could grab a bite to eat and consider our next move?" she suggested. "I think once we figure things out we'll both feel better."

But Ashton shook her head, her green eyes fixed in a haunted stare. "I don't think so, I'd really just like to be alone."

Juliana stepped onto the porch and stared after her as the door shut in her face.

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

"Brianna, get in here now!" Jonathon Walters screamed from the confines of his home office, his voice resonating throughout the first floor of their Mediterranean-style home.

Brianna was used to her father's frequent outbursts, but there was something in his tone that was different this time. Urgency rung out in his words, and she knew right away something was very wrong.

Oh my God! I swear, if Tiffany opened her big, fat, silicone-injected lips I will never trust her again!

"What is it, Daddy?" she asked, as she innocently peeked around the door frame. She opened her baby-blues as wide as they would go and peered at him with a question on her face. It was an expression she had used on countless occasions in the past and it always managed to get her out of trouble.

"What is the meaning of this?" he thundered, his head buried in the laptop that sat on his excessively large desk.

She wandered toward him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What are you looking-" She stopped mid-sentence when she saw what had him so upset. There was a picture on his laptop taken of two people in a confined space. Sections of the image had been blurred, intentionally concealing certain inappropriate parts. But what the eye couldn't see, the imagination made up for. Brianna swallowed hard. She knew immediately what he was looking at and her heart sank to her toes.

He turned his hardened eyes toward her, outraged. "What the fuck is this, young lady?" he screamed.

Instinctively, Brianna ducked her head at the sound of the anger in his voice as if she were dodging a bullet, which she sort of was. No one wanted to be at the opposite end of Jonathon Walters' wrath, she'd seen enough growing up to realize that. His explosive personality had been enough to drive her docile mother away, to the point that she'd never wanted to look back, not even at her own daughter.

"Daddy, I can explain-"

"You can explain this?" he demanded, his voice echoing in the space around them. "I cannot wait to hear what you could possibly say that-"

"What's going on in here?" questioned a bewildered-looking Tiffany as she rushed into the room. "You've just about scared the maid off! She's standing at the door with her purse in her hand, ready to make a quick getaway!"

"Did you know about this?" Jonathon roared, turning his attention toward his young wife.

Submission was not a part of Tiffany's vocabulary, and she never turned down an invitation to stand up to her imposing husband. "What are you talking about?" she objected, walking toward the screen of the computer. With a gasp, Tiffany's diamond clad hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God!" Horrified, her wide-eyes turned to her step-daughter and stared.

Brittany gawked at the revealing image in disbelief. "I'm waiting, young lady," her father repeated, shifting his eyes back to his daughter. "Tell me this didn't happen."

"Tiffany," Brianna began, turning toward her step-mother for support, but her eyes were met by an empty space. Tiffany had slipped away from the room without making a sound. "Daddy-"

"And who the hell is Brooks Kennedy?"

"Daddy, I-"

"I swear to you Brianna, if this kid so much as laid a finger on you, I will tear him from limb to limb!" her father promised, and he always made good on his threats. "I will hunt this guy down and force him to talk if you don't tell me exactly what happened here!"

"No, Daddy, don't do that! I've been trying to tell you, but you won't let me get a word out!"

"Then be my guess, Brianna! The floor is all yours."

Brianna took a deep breath and looked around the room, trying to come up with a suitable explanation. She could feel an unpleasant moisture manifest on her brow and she wiped it away with a nervous hand. What should she say? What could she say? The images that decorated the computer screen said it all. What the hell had happened? The night she'd been with Brooks had taken place weeks ago! Why were the photos just now coming out? And who the hell had been lurking outside of the car? The thought of someone watching them together made her feel . . . disgusting. "It's a lie, Daddy! Someone is trying to set me up," she fibbed, forced tears threatening to fall.

"A lie?" he questioned, considering her suggestion. "But why go after you? I have always kept you out of the limelight. Why now?" He regarded her suspiciously and she could see he was not buying her story.

"Maybe it's because of your success," Brianna offered suddenly. "Maybe someone is trying to take you down?"

"That's preposterous! If someone wanted to take me down, they would target me, not my teenage daughter! I want to know what is going on right now, Brianna, so help me God! And if you don't start telling me the truth, I'll find this Brooks Kennedy character and make him tell me," he threatened again, narrowing his eyes.

The vein on the side of her father's temple visibly pulsated, and Brianna felt herself pale. Tears came for real this time, she didn't need to force them. "I had sex with him, Daddy," she whispered, too afraid to look him in the eye.

"You what?" he thundered. "I thought I raised you better than that, young lady! How old is this guy? Did he force himself on you?"

"No, Daddy, it was nothing like that! I . . . I wanted to. I thought I was in love with him," she answered weakly.

"In love with him? Do you even know him? For Christ's sake, Brianna, tell me he used protection!"

Brianna's shoulders dropped in defeat and her tears turned into full-blown waterworks.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" He slammed the laptop closed, shattering the screen in the process. "I'm gonna kill him," he seethed, rising to his feet and pushing the sleeves of his lightweight, silk sweater up. "I will ruin this guy!"

Brianna followed after him as he stormed out of the room, practically running into Tiffany who was hiding quietly in the hall listening in on their conversation. Please, Daddy, don't do this!" she begged, holding onto the sleeve of his sweater.

"Stop it, Brianna," he said, roughly yanking his arm from her grasp. "This is how it has to be. No guy will ever disrespect my little girl and get away with it, do you understand?"

"But he didn't disrespect me! I told you, I wanted to be with him!"

"Oh, Brianna, you don't know what you want! You're just a child."

Brianna's eyes narrowed dangerously as irritation raged through her veins. A child-he certainly treated her like one! If there was one thing she hated it was being made to feel like a child, and her father was an expert at that. Couldn't he see she was a grown woman? "I am not a child!" she protested hotly. "In fact, Brooks Kennedy is not the only guy I've slept with."

A shocked gasp escaped from Tiffany's ruby-red lips as she watched the uncomfortable scene unfold in front of her. "Brianna," she warned discreetly, trying to catch her step-daughter's attention before she said too much.

"What are you saying," her father asked slowly, oblivious to his wife's quiet plea. He stared down at Brianna, willing her to continue.

"I'm saying there was another guy. He's in the same band as Brooks."

"Awe, Christ! They're in show business? Dammit, Brianna, what're you thinking? I have warned you time and time again to stay away from famous men. They're nothing but trouble! Believe me when I tell you this, I've been around enough of them to know exactly what they're like and to know they use every single person who crosses their path-especially females!" Her father stood in front of her, a mass of quivering rage. She watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest and knew his anger was growing by the minute. "If they think they're ever gonna work professionally in this town again-or any town for that matter-they have another thing coming!"

A strong bought of tenacity swamped her. She was a woman now, and her father was just going to have to deal with it. "Well, it's too late, Daddy," Brianna announced triumphantly. "I'm pregnant, and I have no idea who the father is."

How will Miller feel after he sees the pictures of Marie? Find out in Chapter 22!

Hello, and thank you for reading Fast Lane! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving a vote/comment!

I made a tentative new cover for the story featuring Brooks...take a peek at the media section to view it. What do you think...do you like it better than the current cover? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

(Chapter 21 approx. 2,900 words)