Reunited Lovers (Friendship Chronicles Book 2) Page 2

  Susan’s brows drew together. “Did she go to the police?”

  “Yes, but she said they treated her as a nuisance.”

  Her friends fell silent, leaving Julia to her thoughts. She had the money Ryan had given her and intended to throw it back in his face at the first opportunity, once the divorce became final, but this way was better. She’d write her mother a check and tell her it was from her savings to stall awkward questions.

  “What time does your mother’s club close?” Christina asked.

  “Around four in the morning, earlier if there are no customers. Why?”

  Christina’s eyes gleamed behind her glasses. “We should visit. It’s a perfect assignment for the Tight Five.” She referred to their group, the name taken from a rugby term where five players bound in a tight formation to face the opposition team. They were like that. Four women and one man—friends—who used to work together at the accountancy firm and who maintained the friendship away from the job.

  “A strip club?” Doubt skittered over Susan’s freckled face. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Maggie said. “Christina’s right. This is a Tight Five situation. Well, four anyway since Connor isn’t here.”

  “Why?” Julia scanned her friends, studying their expressions. Christina continued to look mischievous. Clear excitement had Maggie beaming in a toothy manner while Susan’s brow knit with plain horror.

  Christina made a tsking sound at the back of her throat as if it should be obvious. “So we can come up with an action plan to help your mother, of course.”

  “Before Connor gets back,” Maggie reminded them, jumping to her feet. “I’ll order a cab.” She rifled through the contents of her handbag. “Bother, where is my stupid phone?”

  “You want to give Connor a reason to spank you,” Julia said.

  “He’s perfectly able to come up with reasons by himself,” Maggie said cheerfully. “I don’t have a single problem with our sex life.”

  “Please keep your satisfaction muted,” Christina said in disgust, although naughtiness remained in her eyes. “Some of us don’t have a sex life.”

  “Yeah,” Susan said, taking a quick sip of her wine.

  “Is there an echo in the room?” Maggie taunted.

  “Hell, yeah,” Christina said. “We’re both plain jealous.”

  Susan gave an emphatic nod. “Damn straight we are.”

  Julia picked up a carrot stick and crunched down, not bothering to voice her opinion. A sex life was more trouble than anything. Every time sex entered her mind, she thought of Ryan, and she didn’t need a reminder of the rat, thank-you-very-much. The last failure in a lengthy line of sexy bad boys—man could she pick ’em.

  “Julia?” Christina waved her hands to get her attention.

  Julia’s head jerked and she blinked. “What?”

  Maggie stabbed her cell phone with her forefinger. “The cab will be here in ten minutes. Drink lively, ladies.”

  Julia found herself swept from Maggie’s apartment in a determined storm of friends. They piled into the cab, tipsy from margaritas and wine.

  “Give the driver the address, Julia,” Christina said.

  “Are we sure this is a clever idea?” Susan asked.

  “Think of it this way, Susan,” Maggie said. “When you’re at the Farmer Seeks a Wife interviews, you’ll have something novel to discuss with your farmer.”

  “I won’t get past the first round,” Susan said.

  “Then I’m gonna beat your ass,” Christina announced, almost crowing. “Because I intend to go all the way, baby. I’m gonna score me a sexy-hot farmer husband.”

  Susan opened and closed her mouth. “Dang, I’m slipping. I’m doing that negative, judgmental thing again.” She took a deep breath. “This will be a fun adventure. Does anyone have a notebook? I can take notes so we don’t forget anything.”

  “How long since you stripped, Julia?” Maggie asked from the front seat.

  “Not since I finished my secretarial courses.” She glared at the driver when his gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. “I didn’t need to work for my mother once I graduated and found a job.”

  And she couldn’t wait to get away from the score of uncles who paraded through her mother’s bedroom. The touchy feely ones had scared her, but she was uncomfortably aware she’d inherited her mother’s appalling lack of judgment with men. Now it seemed her mother might move on to women.

  Welcome to my crazy world.

  Maggie twisted in the front seat to see her friends clearly. “Can you show me a routine or two? Connor would enjoy a private strip show.”

  “You’re talking about sex again,” Christina accused.

  Maggie giggled, and Julia’s heart twisted, a jagged sensation, almost like a sharp blow to the chest. It left her breathless, aching and so alone. While she was pleased for Maggie and Connor, it was painful to see their happiness when she and Ryan… She shook herself, cutting off the thought. Not. Going. There.

  Thankfully, the cab pulled up in front of her mother’s club. Maggie took care of the fare while the rest of the group climbed out.

  “Whoa.” Susan gaped at two women in full war paint. With exaggerated hip-swagger, they strutted past in their skimpy skirts and matching tops, their heels tap-tapping on the footpath. “I need to work on an attitude like that.”

  Familiarity seized Julia, the sense of coming home, even though she’d hated living here. The faint throb of a rock ballad seeped through the windows of a flat above a shop farther down the street. Her gaze took in the laughing people waiting for entrance to the new club—another one in opposition to her mother’s. The line snaked along the edge of the building and halfway down the next block.

  “Watch out,” Maggie said, flinging out her arm to stop Julia’s progress.

  Julia looked down and grimaced. Someone had lost their dinner. She stepped around the smelly pile of vomit. “Do you still want to do this?”

  Susan linked her arm with Julia’s and grinned. It was a trifle ragged on the edges, but it qualified as a grin. “Yes. Maggie and Christina aren’t going to change their minds. I need an adventure to jerk me out of my rut, so you’re stuck with us on this mission.”

  Julia hoped her friends didn’t regret their enthusiasm. She steeled herself and headed for the front door of her mother’s club—The Last Frontier. Not a single person jostled for entry.

  “Ladies.” An aging security guard stood to attention when he saw them. His white shirt strained over his belly, but he looked sharp with crisply pressed black trousers and black shoes that glistened even in the sparse foyer lighting.

  “Hi, Stan,” Julia said. “How are you? How are the kids?”

  Stan peered at her for an instant and broke into a delighted grin. “Julia, I didn’t recognize you. You’re so grown up now. Long time no see.” He wrapped her in a tight embrace. The scents of tobacco, laundry powder and a hint of Old Spice wafted to her and brought a second flash from the past. Aware of another bout of tears threatening, she pulled away. “Stan, these are my friends Maggie, Christina and Susan. Stan used to supervise me after school when Mum was busy with the club. He made sure I did my homework and was strict about it too. I never got away with anything.”

  “Not true,” Stan said with a fond grin. “She used to wind me around her little finger.”

  “Ah,” Christina said. “So that’s your fault. She’s still managing the males around her.”

  Julia turned away, swallowing the lump constricting her throat. Ryan had burrowed into her heart like a parasitic worm, and she hadn’t managed him. Not a bit. She forced a smile to her lips, aiming for one that declared she was a competent adult and in complete control. “How’s Mum?”

  Stan shook his head, his dark brows drawing together. “Not so good. All the stress isn’t good for her heart. If I ever see that rat manager I’ll wring his neck. Bloody thief, if you’ll pardon my French.”

  “We’ve come to help,�
�� Susan said.

  “Good. Elise needs help, no matter how much she refutes it,” Stan said. “Go right in, ladies.”

  “Is it busy tonight?” Julia asked.

  A gusty sigh escaped him. “Business is bad this year. The new club down the street has stolen most of our customers. They seem to have a line outside for most of the night.”

  Christina nudged Maggie. “We’ll check out the competition too.”

  Julia shook her head a fraction, although she didn’t attempt verbal dissent. Once an idea wriggled into their heads, her friends became an unstoppable force. Tight Five, indeed.

  “How is tomorrow night for you? Since it’s Friday, Connor will come with us,” Maggie said. “He’s playing rugby on Saturday afternoon and won’t be drinking. He can be our designated driver.”

  “It sounds as if our adventure will be a big one,” Susan murmured to Julia.

  “Yeah.” Julia wasn’t sure whether to strangle or hug her friends. “I hope you have a thick notepad.” She pushed through the internal double doors leading into the club.

  The smoke she recalled from her younger years was a thing of the past due to the anti-smoking laws. Instead, a cocktail of alcohol, body odor and strong aftershave greeted her. Her nose wrinkled at the stale atmosphere, and imaginary cooties jumped on to her arms and legs, slithering along her flesh.

  “Susan,” she said crisply. “Make a note. We need to do something with the air conditioning.” They were here now, and she might as well act on her friends’ suggestion. Put together an action plan. Even if her mother sold, she’d need to do a few improvements to attract a buyer.

  “It’s very…ah…interesting,” Maggie said, after a quick glance around the cavernous interior.

  “Don’t bother with tact,” Julia said, taking in the tired décor and carpet stained by numerous drunk and clumsy customers. “It’s even worse than I remember.”

  The red velvet furnishings bore patches, the repairs even more noticeable because of the lack of customers. Up on the stage a young woman with long, chemical-blonde hair and a bored expression went through a lackluster routine. Her jaw worked a piece of gum. That, at least, matched the beat of the music. The song trailed off, and the woman stalked off the stage. Not one man attempted to give her a tip. Not surprising given her second-rate performance.

  “We have our work cut out for us,” Christina said in woeful understatement.

  Nodding, Julia continued to catalogue the problems. They needed to gut the entire building and start again. Hire new strippers. Advertise. Get proactive instead of settling for the same old methods, which weren’t working. She frowned. Her mother had a knack for the business and could instinctively tell if a woman had what it took to make a good stripper. For the club to go so far downhill and her not realize… Guilt rose to the surface again. She was a bad daughter. She should’ve checked on her mother more often.

  At her side, Susan faltered when a drunken man blundered past on the way to the restrooms. “I’m up for the challenge,” she said, her blue eyes bulging as she took in her surroundings.

  Maggie swung around in a slow circle, studying every gaping deficiency. She turned to face them and broke into a grin. “Let’s do it.”

  Damn, Julia wanted to weep again. She peered through shimmering eyes at her friends. “The margaritas have rotted your brains.”

  “I agree with Maggie,” Christina said.

  Julia glanced at Susan, the normal naysayer and voice of reason. “Are you sure?”

  Susan nodded emphatically. “I want to do this.”

  “I still think you need your heads read by a professional, but let’s find my mother. She might talk sense into you.” Julia strode up to the bar with her friends at her back. Gratitude she couldn’t express clamped around her ribs, making it difficult to breathe. They were the best, but they had no idea what was involved in running a strip club.

  A buxom barmaid sauntered up to them as she gulped down the handful of crisps she’d shoved in her mouth. “Yeah, what will it be?”

  “Where’s Elise?” Julia asked. The woman needed to lose both the food habit and her attitude.

  “She’s out the back.” The woman indicated a door behind the bar with a jerk of her finger. “Wait, you can’t come back here.”

  “I’m Elise’s daughter,” Julia said. “Stan will vouch for me.” She stalked to the door, aware of the others hurrying after her.

  “Julia?”

  Julia paused, shocked by her mother’s weak voice. She entered the office and found her mother resting on a couch. She’d lost weight and her blusher stood out in two red circles against the paleness of her cheeks. Her long blonde hair framed her face with lank strands and the distinct gray streaks snared Julia’s attention. Her mother was vain when it came to her hair and in the past had ruthlessly dealt with any hint of gray.

  “Mum, how are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine or you wouldn’t be in here resting. Why didn’t you ring me?” Julia unleashed her worry with sharp words.

  Her mother’s chin lifted. “I sent you a letter.”

  “Mum, I live ten minutes away.”

  “I wanted to tell you everything, and a letter was easier. I didn’t want to watch your expression or hear you judge me.”

  “Oh, Mum.” All her childhood embarrassment and their past arguments receded, now unimportant. Her friends were right. They needed a plan, and it might be the thing to take her mind off Ryan. As soon as the divorce came through, she could move on, and meantime, she’d work on helping her mother. “Don’t worry about hiring a new manager, not when I can do the job for you.”

  “I can’t ask you to give up your job. You have your own life.”

  “I’ll take a leave of absence,” Julia said in a no-nonsense voice, ignoring the tiny sliver of panic struggling to slip free. Her entire life was spinning in the wrong damn direction. “Leave everything to me and you concentrate on getting better.”

  Chapter Two

  Ryan arrived at Julia’s apartment the next morning much later than he’d planned. On returning home the previous night, both he and Caleb had crashed, lack of sleep catching up with them. He rang the bell, but as he’d expected, there was no reply. Finally, he returned to their apartment to find an agitated Caleb.

  “Where have you been?”

  “I went back to Julia’s apartment. Either she didn’t return home or she’d already left for work.” Hell, he hoped it wasn’t the first alternative. The idea of Julia in another man’s bed kicked like a cranky mule. His hands itched with the need to hit something. Someone. “I’m not an invalid. I made it there and back without getting lost.”

  Caleb scratched a hand through his scruffy black hair. “I was worried.”

  “The doctors in Germany said I was fine. Most of my memories have come back. Hell, if I can remember the words to our songs there’s nothing wrong with me.”

  No matter how much he denied it, Caleb was babying him and smothering him in the process. Ryan knew his friend worried, but he was good, or he would be as soon as he connected with Julia again. “When are you going to Tauranga?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “And you’re staying a week?”

  “Yeah, Jeff and Neil have both gone home to Wellington. They rang while you were out. They’ll be back the week after next so we can knuckle down and sort out new songs for the album.”

  Ryan absorbed the info and nodded. That gave him a week to do his own thing up here in Auckland. “I might get stuck into the song writing.”

  “And Julia?” Caleb passed him a coffee.

  Ryan cradled the mug in his hands. “When I catch up to her I’ll talk, tell her what happened and ask her to drop the divorce proceedings.” He half-expected Caleb to jeer at him, to inform him he was a fool.

  “Chicks on tap get old after a while.”

  Caleb’s comment surprised him into a beat of silence. “Neil and Jeff won’t agree with you.”

/>   “Think how much worse it’d be if the public discovered we were French Letters.”

  “True.” Ryan sipped his coffee. “It’s great walking down the street without anyone recognizing me.”

  “Yeah, there’s a lot to be said for mystique and stage makeup,” Caleb agreed. “Do you have any ideas for songs?”

  “I have half a dozen done already.” Ryan couldn’t help the spurt of smugness that crept into his tone.

  “When? Wait, they’d better not be friggin’ soppy ballads.”

  Ryan shrugged, knowing it would annoy his friend.

  Caleb let out a pained groan and clapped a hand to his head. “No! Say it isn’t so.”

  “One or two.”

  “But you’ve written rock songs?” A plea.

  “Of course.” They were some of his best work, but the ballads, inspired by Julia, his mystery woman, were beyond brilliant, even if he said so himself.

  “Go get them. You’ll have to wait until your girl finishes work before you can see her, anyway. We might as well make use of the hours and get a jump on the arrangements.”

  At four thirty, Ryan stood and stretched his hands above his head. He groaned, his muscles protesting after sitting for so long. “Time to catch up with my wife.”

  “I’ll give you a lift. I intended to take my car out of mothballs and give it a run anyway.”

  “You’ll leave as soon as she arrives? Give us privacy.”

  Caleb inclined his head, grabbing his keys as if Ryan had already agreed with him. “Come on.”

  They pulled up outside the apartment just as a group of women piled into a cab. “Isn’t that Julia?”

  Ryan’s eyes feasted on his shapely blonde wife, pictured her sparkling brown eyes and sultry smile. “Yeah, follow that cab. I’m not waiting around here all night again.” His heart gave several hard thumps before resuming its normal beat.

  Caleb shot him a sideward glance. “You can’t accost her in public either.”

  “I’ll give her my phone number and ask her to meet me tomorrow for lunch so we can discuss things.” Or he’d drag her to bed and keep her locked in his bedroom until she changed her mind about the divorce.