Captive Films: Season One

“It’s come in handy for me, as well, when you have to threaten to sue the tabloids,” Keatyn says, looking tired all of a sudden.

I smile at her, happy she’s finally going to have a baby with Aiden. And get married. As most of her friends would say, it’s about time for both. I also can’t help but feel a little smug that she’s told only me she’s pregnant. That she trusts me.

And after what I’ve been through, she has no idea how much that means to me.





When our food is served, Keatyn raises her glass of water in the air. “I think we should have a toast. To new beginnings, fresh starts, and rings from Harry Winston.”

“Rings from Harry Winston?” RiAnne asks, her eyes big.

“How can you not notice that new mass of diamonds on her hand?” Keatyn laughs, pointing at my purchase.

“That’s real? I thought it was costume jewelry.”

“Nope, I decided to commemorate today with a gift for myself. Keatyn helped me pick it out.”

“Vanessa just sat there and drooled,” Keatyn says.

“Over Tristan or the diamonds?” Peyton asks.

“The diamonds, but Tristan is a cutie. I can’t believe you all knew how hot he was and never introduced me.”

My phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number.





If you are ready for a new beginning, I’d love to take you to dinner- Tristan





I laugh. “He just texted and asked me to dinner!”

“You should go. Maybe he gets a discount,” RiAnne laughs. “Dallas would probably appreciate that. He usually buys me a piece of jewelry after every baby.”

“That’s so romantic,” Peyton says. “Speaking of romantic, Keatyn, tell us what Aiden said at the top of the freaking Eiffel Tower.”

“It’s all kind of a blur,” Keatyn says, but I know her. I know she memorized everything Aiden said to her and wrote it down. “Just about how he promised me a life better than anything I ever scripted. It was romantic. Sweet. Everything that boy does makes me swoon. I’m really lucky.”

“Speaking of that, I think you should enlist Ariela to help with your wedding.” I say it out loud, knowing Keatyn’s been waiting for my assessment of her. “Have you ever had to plan a wedding really fast?” I ask Ariela.

“Are you getting married really fast?” Ariela asks Keatyn.

Keatyn keeps her voice low and says, “I’d love to talk to you about it. We’ve been thinking about a spring wedding in France.”

“Oh, that’s not that fast.”

“Why don’t you come up to the vineyard this weekend? We can discuss it.”

“Will Riley be there?”

“No, just Dallas and the kids, my grandparents, me and Aiden. Oh, and if you want, you could maybe see Maggie and Logan. Logan runs the day to day operations of Asher Vineyards and Maggie handles all the events there.”

“That sounds fun. I’d love to. And I’d love to see them. I feel bad. Maggie was one of my best friends.”

“So when do you want to move in?” I ask Ariela. We don’t need to rehash old news.

“As soon as possible?” she asks.

“Perfect. Lunch is on me today, ladies. Ariela, would you have time now to go see your new digs?”

“That sounds amazing. Thank you. I’ll go get my things and meet you there.”

While she stops at the ladies room, I give everyone a hug goodbye, giving Keatyn a longer one.

“I think what you’re doing for her is really nice,” she says.

“I can relate to what she’s going through. Who knows, maybe we’ll even become friends.”

“Still, it’s really nice.” She looks at her watch. “Shit, I’ve got to go. Three o’clock call time.”

“Take care of yourself,” I tell her.





Vanessa’s Estate - Holmby Hills

ARIELA





The GPS system in my car takes me to a gated palatial home. I press the call button, praying I'm at the right house and that someone doesn't see my rented Chevy and call the cops.

No one says anything through the intercom but the gates grind open, so I pull through.

My parents are well off. Riley's family and most of the friends I had at Eastbrooke came from affluent families. But I've never seen a home quite like this. It looks like something a Spanish prince would own. Terra cotta stucco sits under a tile roof. Paned arched windows set in dark mahogany open to iron Juliet balconies. There is a massive hand carved wooden door at least twice my height at the entrance.

The door opens and Vanessa says, “I’ll have Chad grab your bags.”

“Um, this is all I have,” I say, holding up my suitcase and carry-on.

“I thought you said you moved here.”

“Not completely.”

Chad takes my bags as Vanessa leads me into a large living space featuring wood beamed trusses and a stone fireplace the size of a garage.