Blurred Lines (Behind Closed Doors Book 2) by Erin Cawood Page B

cavernous surroundings. Wayne won’t like it that we’re here. In fact, he’ll be pretty pissed about it if he finds out. “Are you serious about this weight thing? Because you’re nothing but skin and bones.”
    “You can’t possibly understand,” I tell her. “You cram in as many profiteroles filled with champagne cream and oozing with rich chocolate sauce as your stomach will allow and you don’t care who’s watching or to which part of your anatomy it’s going to. You’ve never had to worry about your weight in your life.”
    “Why would people give a damn about what I eat?” She looks unconvinced by my argument. Then she stops. “Wait, are you saying people watch what I eat so they can talk about weight problems I don’t have? Oh for Christ’s sake!” She rolls her eyes as she shakes her head. For a moment, I think the disparaging remark is meant for me until she says, “I should bloody know better. Of course they are, because someone like me can’t possibly have a healthy appetite and strict exercise regime without having an eating disorder.”
    She curses again before she gathers my hands in hers. “Are you bothered by the attention you had last month? Is that what this is about? People know who you are and what you do and you’re worried they’ll be as critical with you as they are with me?” I don’t reply. “They won’t, I’m promise. The only time you’ll ever get that kind of attention again is if you do something spectacularly noteworthy, like making me stand out as the brightest star on the red carpet, and since I have no intention of ever stepping on another red carpet for as long as I live, you’ll be fine.”
    I don’t know whether I’m more disturbed that my career rests on Ashleigh’s stubborn desire to never attend another premiere or award ceremony, or relieved that the whole charade last month is likely to be a once in a lifetime experience. “Besides, Jules, you’re gorgeous. Inside and out.” She smiles. “You must be gorgeous if a fairly unusual and rugged yet sophisticated and modern guy picked you over me.”
    Did she just compliment my husband? Oh my… and it was some compliment from a woman who hates him.
    “Even if he can be a bloody Neanderthal at times,” she hisses, ending a very short-lived moment of surprise.
    That’s more like it.
    “Pfft,” she continues, “why can’t he give up his career and become a stay at home dad? I mean, you earn more money by far, and you have better benefits. Why does it have to be your fault that you two haven’t started a family yet? It takes two, doesn’t it?”
    Instantly, the warm glow she’d just provided for me dies as the conversation returns to making babies. Wayne and I have never discussed having a family since he told me he wanted me more than he wanted to have children. I sometimes wonder why we even bother with birth control but we've never changed our routine. I guess maybe we didn't want to acknowledge the truth or risk a baby we're not ready for. I mean, it's near on impossible for us to get pregnant but it's not actually impossible.
    “Is it true?” she asks. “Am I taking up too much of your time?” I hesitate as she begins to ramble. “Please tell me the truth. I don’t need you to do as much as you do, especially from my house.” As much as she tries to hide her anxiety over this situation, her hands start to shake. “I never want to come between you and Wayne, Jules, and if that’s the case, you could work from home.”
    My life would be so much easier if I admit to her that she’s frequently a problem for Wayne and me. But I don’t. And I don’t because I suddenly realize that the problem is not Ashleigh, per se, it’s a problem between Wayne and I that we need to address. But somehow, I know the only solution to it is to not have Ashleigh in my life at all. “Honestly, I have no idea where that remark came from.”
    “When you decide you want a family, Jules, you must tell