“Sure.” Bella opened the first of her suitcases and handed a stack of sweaters to Annie. She tossed panties and bras into the top drawer of the bureau, thinking of her dream to start her own makeup line. Covering the desk at her apartment in Venice were hundreds of sketches for her cosmetic line. She had entire collections based on different women’s coloring, everything from the fairest blond to the darkest brunette. For the darker woman was “Venice Beach”—bright oranges and reds and blues inspired by the art sold along the boardwalk and graffiti on the walls of the buildings here. Her latest collection, called “Oregon,” was well-suited to a woman with fair, peaches-and-cream skin like Annie—hues of greens and browns and the pinks and reds in Drake’s rose garden. For Annie’s friend Lee, a redhead with skin the color a porcelain plate, there was the “Malibu” collection—eye shadows in pale gray and various shades of tan and almost translucent pinks for the lips and cheeks.
Bella used pastels mixed with one another until she found just the right color. Someday she would give all of this to the chemist and they would create the actual product. When she was ready. If she was ever ready.
She sighed, tossing several pairs of shoes into the closet as Annie put her toiletries bag in the bathroom. Why couldn’t she be more like Drake? He hadn’t hesitated to develop his idea and now he was a billionaire. And her best friend Gennie? She’d pursued an acting career despite the incredible odds of making a living at it, let alone reaching the status she’d achieved. But they were different than she. They were fearless, undaunted by the odds.
During a moment of vulnerability in the first months of their heady affair, she’d confessed to Graham she might like to start her own makeup line. She’d done some research, she told him, and had chosen a chemical company that could make the products if she had the capital to invest. He’d encouraged her to ask her brother for the money. But what if it didn’t work? she’d argued. Then she’d have wasted her brother’s money over what was probably a ridiculous dream. How many makeup lines were there already? What would make hers any better?
When she’d broken it off with Graham, he’d gone into attack mode, bringing up one of the sorest discussion points between them: her business idea. “It’s like you never grew up from the scared, sad little girl your own father hung over the side of a building. Always in limbo like you were that day. You can’t go back and you can’t jump. You’re a scared little girl, Bella, who puts makeup on women’s faces for a living. Is this really all you want to be?”
In an act of the utmost maturity, she’d flipped him the finger and stormed out of his office.
Now, Annie interrupted her thoughts. “Well, I can’t wait to meet Genevieve. Drake says she’s lovely.”
“She is. I’ve missed her so much. After her divorce from Moody she decided to take that job filming in Colombia for six months. I was worried she was going to get carried away by some wild animal or something.” Genevieve Banks was one of the highest paid actresses in the business but she was also just a regular girl. Sweet Gennie was a small-town girl from Wisconsin, raised by a single mother, as Bella and Drake had been. Despite her fame, she was the type of girl who understood how to be a girlfriend; she didn’t judge or lecture or try to steal your boyfriend even though she could have. They’d bonded immediately during their first jobs in the business ten years earlier. Adults raised poor could smell it in others, like a secret club. Oh, yes, I know what it’s like to do without, to wear shoes until your toes poked through, to never see your mother buy herself a new dress, to carry your house key in your backpack because your mother was at work and you had to let yourself in, the thrill when you found a pair of jeans that look like new on the rack at Goodwill.
The miniseries they worked on was an awful piece; they’d laughed recently about the terrible script. And the actors? Some of the worst Bella had ever seen before or since. “Only good part was the costumes,” Genevieve had said as they walked arm-in-arm on the beach. “And meeting you, Bellie.” Regardless, it had given them both an entry into an almost impossible business. And now, Genevieve was an Oscar-nominated actress.
Annie closed the top drawer of the bureau. “Linus is hell bent on keeping them sheltered from the press while they’re here. He has the back entry all set up for her and Stefan.”
“I heard. And that’s so Linus.” Bella went to the closet and pulled out several wooden hangers.
Annie yawned and then brushed a stray feather, which had broken loose from the down comforter, from her jeans. “I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
“Linus is bringing both Stefan and Genevieve for dinner tonight here at the house.”
“Really? Wait, don’t you have to work?”
“Billy and our other two assistants are going to take over tonight. I’ve been having them take more and more shifts without me. They do great.” Annie fiddled with the pocket of her jeans, yawning. “I’m going to scale back a bit, take another night or two off every week.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.” Bella peered at her. Annie was pale; it wasn’t just the lack of makeup. She’d yawned twice in the last few minutes. Was she sick? Was it cancer? Please, God, do not let her be sick. Not when we just found her. She said it out loud, tension tight in her stomach. “Annie, what is it? Are you sick?”
Annie smiled her gentle smile. “No, goose, I’m pregnant.”
Bella’s legs felt weak with relief. She stumbled back, sitting on one of the two easy chairs. “Oh, thank God. I thought you had cancer.”
Annie shook her head and wrinkled her brow, peering at her like she had lost the last of her sanity. “What are you talking about? Cancer? That’s where your mind went?”
Bella put her hands together like she might pray, staring at her sister-in-law. “Drake and I keep losing people we love. I’m scared all the time it will happen again.”
Annie crossed the room and sat next to her in the other chair, taking her hand. “I understand. But I’m healthy as can be. Other than that I can’t keep any food down. It’s terrible. I wasn’t like this with Alder. Maybe it’ll be a little girl.”
A little girl. There would be a baby, a niece or nephew to join Alder. “Oh, Annie, a baby. A baby. I’m so happy.” She glanced toward the hallway. “What do the boys think of this?”
“We haven’t told Alder yet. I want to wait until the first trimester is over before we tell him, you know, just in case.”
“Sure. What about Drake?” She couldn’t be certain. Would he be excited for another child or would it bring the loss of his first child to the surface? Would the old, unimaginable grief spill into the joy of this new life?
Annie’s eyes misted over. “He cried when I told him.”
“Cried?”
“Sobbed.” Annie wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “It was heart-wrenching. He was happy and yet, well, you know.”
“Right. Of course.”
Bella stood, pulling Annie to her feet and hugging her. “Nothing will bring more happiness to all of us than a baby.”
They heard a car turning into the long driveway from the road. “That’ll be Drake and Alder,” said Annie. “Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll make you all a snack.”
“You know I love your snacks.”
“I have a new truffle oil popcorn with Parmesan cheese I want you to try.”
“Is it strips of Parmesan like you do with the Caesar salads at Riversong?” Bella’s mouth watered.
“Exactly. I toss it all together. Everyone loves it so far. I have to hold my nose though. The stinky cheese makes me totally sick.”
“You’re so pregnant.”
Annie giggled, taking Bella’s arm as they headed down the hall. “I really am.”
But it was not Drake and Alder coming up the drive. It was Benjamin Fleck in his sports car. No mistaking the flash of red between the trees.
“Crap.” Bella looked down at her skinny jeans and riding boots splashed with mud. She fluffed her curls. And
she needed a fresh coat of lipstick.
“You look fine. Beautiful, in fact.”
“Whatever. I don’t care.”
“Sure you don’t,” said Annie, smiling as she left the kitchen.
A few minutes later Annie reappeared with Ben in the doorway of the kitchen. He wore a pair of khakis, wrinkled from sitting in the car on the long drive from Seattle, Bella assumed, and a blue silk T-shirt with a leather jacket over it. He flinched when he saw Bella. Yes, flinched, like someone had thrown a ball at his face without warning. “Hey, Bella.”
“Hey,” Bella mumbled, turning away as she sat at the counter on the stool closest to the wall.
Annie went to the stove and poured popcorn kernels into hot vegetable oil.
“You just get into town, Bella?” he asked, leaning against the counter with his forearms.
“Just now, yes.” Her voice felt strangled, like she couldn’t get enough air. She caught a whiff of his cologne and that was enough, she was back in the guesthouse with him like it was last night instead of three months ago. He’d held onto her hips, his thighs against her backside, pushing her up the stairs, stopping half way and turning her around, kissing her until she pulled away. She’d taken his hand and led him the rest of the way into the small sitting area of the guest house and then through to the bedroom. She’d wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone before, yanking at his belt, kissing him, his hands under the skirt of her sundress, tugging at her panties. He’d lifted her, wrapping her legs around him, and they’d fallen on the bed, not laughing or playful but almost ferocious in the way they’d attacked one another’s mouths and bodies.
Annie was saying something to her. “I’m sorry, what?” Bella swallowed hard.
“I asked when you had to report for work.” The sounds of kernels popping grew faster and faster. Annie shook the pan, twice in rapid succession. The room filled with the particular aroma of vegetable oil and popped corn.
“First thing in the morning. We have an all-hands meeting. Richard likes to give an opening-day talk for inspiration and to set the vision.”
“Who’s Richard?” Ben took off his jacket and hung it over the back of the stool, watching her like he knew what she’d been thinking. His eyes were almost amused but there was something else too. Hurt? Longing? Regret? Don’t go there, she thought. He made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with her. She must remain strong and distant.
“Our director.” His jacket smelled of his cologne and leather. Damn you, Ben Fleck.
He slid onto the stool next to her. His cologne, again, was in her nose. Did he have to sit so near? His thigh muscles were evident under his khakis. She averted her eyes.
The popping slowed. Annie took the pan from the stove and set it on a hotplate. She then scooped two cups of the popped corn into small bowls and sprinkled them with truffle oil and shaved pieces of Parmesan.
She’d felt hungry, but now, with the aroma of the popcorn intermingled with the smell of Ben’s leather jacket and his cologne, it was nothing but longing in the pit of her stomach. Her hands itched to touch the sides of his face. Or even to just put her nose into the folds of his leather jacket and breathe in his essence like oxygen.
“Annie, did you get my message I was coming down today?” asked Ben.
Annie shook her head, her face blank and innocent. “I didn’t.”
She’s lying, thought Bella. She didn’t want me to know he was coming. She planned this little meeting. Annie was more devious than she appeared.
“Sorry to arrive unexpectedly. Something came up down here that I have to take care of tomorrow.”
“It’s no problem. You know this is your home for however long you need it,” said Annie, bringing her hand to her mouth, looking greener than the moment before. Was she feeling sick again? “How was your fishing trip to the Smith River?”
Ben grinned. “Really good. Used some Bivisible flies that worked great. Love that river.”
Bella shuddered and pulled her sweater tighter, thinking of the skinny, curvy highway that ran above the Smith River in northern California. When she’d driven it earlier that day she’d gripped the steering wheel tightly and told herself over and over: Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
Ben glanced at her. “You okay?” Had he noticed her shudder?
She shifted in her chair, picking up a piece of popcorn. The kernel had exploded into four petals, like a lucky clover. “Yeah. Drove that highway this morning. It was terrifying. Just like the last time.” The popcorn smelled of dank soil and mildew from the truffle oil.
“Takes courage to do something that makes you that afraid, Bella,” he said, his eyes soft.
“I guess,” she said.
She looked up. Annie’s watchful eyes were perceptive, almost shrewd. She sees what’s between us, thought Bella. It’s not just me.
There was the sound of another car coming up the driveway. “That’ll be my boys,” said Annie, filling two more bowls with popcorn.
Neither Ben nor Bella had eaten. Annie’s eyes darted to the full bowls but she didn’t say anything.
Alder and Drake arrived in the kitchen. “Aunt Bella and Ben are here,” shouted Alder, his ten-year-old face as round and sweet as the last time she’d seen. He gave Bella a hug and bumped shoulders with Ben. “Can you believe they’re filming a movie here, Ben?” His big brown eyes sparkled with excitement. Oh, to be ten again, thought Bella.
“No, I really can’t. Makes Hylink look like nothing big.” He smiled and ruffled Alder’s hair. “You been practicing your blackjack and poker face while I was gone?”
“Totally.” Alder made his face blank. “Can you read me now?”
Ben laughed. “I’m not sure what that face means, actually.”
Drake kissed Bella on the cheek. “Good to have you home, little sister. You get settled already?”
“Yep. Unpacked and everything.”
Alder gave his mother a high-five before digging into the popcorn. “Thanks, Mom, I was hoping you’d make this today.” He looked over at Bella. “Truffle oil. I mean, seriously, how cool is my mom?”
“The coolest,” said Bella, smiling.
“Take that into your room and get your homework out of the way,” said Annie to her son. “We have guests coming for dinner.”
“Suddenly you’re not as cool,” said Alder with a sigh. He picked up his bowl. “What guests? Ben and Bella?”
“Ben, you’re invited to dinner, of course. That goes without saying.” Annie tapped the counter with one finger, looking at Alder with a slight smile. “Some friends of Aunt Bella’s.”
“Like movie friends?” asked Alder, smacking his hand against his forehead. “Please say it’s who I think it is.”
“Genevieve and, yes, Stefan Spencer.”
“No way. Stefan Spencer is coming to our house. He’s only the coolest cat on the planet.” He looked over at Drake. “Dad, he’s the one in that badass motorcycle movie we watched the other night.”
“I know who he is,” said Drake drily. “And that movie was God awful, not badass.”
Alder threw up his arms, a look of utter amazement on his face. “Sometimes I don’t even know who you are.”
Drake chuckled and pointed at the door. “Get your homework done and then you can tell him how much you liked his movie.”
After Alder left, Drake put his arm around Annie. “You feeling any better?”
She rested her head against his shoulder. “I threw up again after you left but I had an apple with peanut butter and that’s staying down. For the moment, anyway.”
Ben looked over at Annie with a concerned look on his face. “Have you had the flu?”
She shook her head. “More of the nine-month variety.”
His face went from concern to delight. “What? Really?” He jumped from the stool and went to where they stood on the other side of the counter. “You guys, that’s awesome.” He shook Drake’s hand and hugged Annie. But when he turned back toward Bella s
he saw the sting of envy pass over his handsome features. He wanted a family of his own. They’d talked of it that night, holding hands under the covers. “I want nothing more than to share my life with a woman I love and have a few children. I’m a simple guy, Bella, with simple dreams.”
“Me too,” she’d whispered into the dark.
Now, Drake motioned toward the back of the house. “Sweetheart, I want you to take a nap before tonight.”
“My husband’s so bossy,” said Annie to Ben.
“Don’t I know it,” said Bella.
She expected Annie to protest about the nap but instead she nodded, following Drake out of the kitchen with a guilty glance back in their direction. “See you all later.”
She was alone with Ben. Great. Now what?
“You’re teaching him blackjack and poker?” It came out sounding like an accusation.
He raised one eyebrow, looking at her. “You have a problem with that?”
No. I don’t. I think it’s the coolest thing ever. And so are you.
She shrugged, pushing her popcorn bowl away. “What do you care what I think?”
His eyes skirted sideways. “I didn’t mean to imply I did.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Her cheeks flamed. There was the blasted lump at the back of her throat again. “I’m his aunt now. I take that very seriously. Regardless of what you think of me.”
“Bella.” He said it quietly, almost under his breath.
She stared at the counter, fighting tears. “What? You have a few more digs? I’m too irresponsible to be a good aunt? I’m just a bitter single woman with no hope of having a child of my own and isn’t that a blessing in disguise? Why don’t you bring up Graham again? Anyone who had an affair with a married man doesn’t get to have an opinion about what her nephew should or shouldn’t do? Or how about telling me I’m just a stupid, frivolous makeup artist too chicken to do anything important with my life. Those are good ones.”
He put up his hands. “Bella. Stop. I would never say those things to you. You’ve got me confused with someone else.”
The River Valley Series Page 58
