The River Valley Series

by Tess Thompson

  “Do I now? Aren’t I just a heartbreak waiting to happen? Isn’t that what you said?” The tears slid from her eyes onto her hot cheeks. She jumped from the stool, her foot catching in the bottom rung and causing her to lurch forward.

  He stood, catching her in his arms. “Stop, just stop.” He brought her close, leaning down, his mouth capturing hers, kissing her hard, pressing into her, tugging at her bottom lip with his own, his tongue flicking like a teasing flame. It took her breath away, this kiss that went on and on so the world ceased to be anything but Benjamin Fleck.

  He pulled away, finally, setting her onto her stool as if she weighed nothing. It was intoxicating the way he tossed her about, handled her, touched her. “Bella, I’m sorry. I don’t know what just happened.” He raked his hand though his short blond hair. “I cannot be in the same house with you and not have this happen time and time again.” His eyes were wild, like a trapped animal.

  “Why don’t you want it to happen time and time again?” she whispered. “Am I really that awful?”

  “You’re beautiful and smart and holy shit, the sexiest woman I’ve ever met but you scare me to death, Bella Webber.” He said it sadly, as if resigned to his fear, knowing it paralyzed him but helpless to fight against it. Then, he turned away, marching out the door, leaving her alone in the kitchen. She picked up his bowl of popcorn and threw it against the wall. It shattered and splintered into a dozen pieces on the floor, the untouched popcorn intermingled with the broken china.

  She put her head onto the counter. This was a mistake, this going north. She should have stayed by the beach where she belonged.

  Bella ran along the path, breathing hard, the sun warm on the back of her neck, the crisp air filling her lungs. Run, just run, she told herself. Don’t think. Her headphones blared Coldplay, the pounding music matching her pounding feet. The oak and maple leaves were red and orange and yellow, bright under the sun. The ground was damp and muddy as she trudged up the hill, the burn in her calves and thighs a welcome distraction from the ache of Ben’s rejection. She stopped when she reached the top of the hill, leaning against a tree to catch her breath before running the rest of the way back to the house. Once there, she came in through the kitchen door from the deck. Drake was there, looking slightly panicked.

  “Annie’s exhausted. And puking again,” said Drake. “Which means we have to cook.”

  “We?” She touched her chest with her index finger. “I think you mean you. I don’t cook. I eat.”

  “Yeah, well, tonight you’re cooking.”

  “How about take-out? Like Thai?”

  “There’s no Thai take-out here.”

  “Well, there should be.”

  “Dammit, Bella, this is serious.”

  She looked at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “How about we barbeque something? You used to do that in Seattle.”

  “Right, I did, didn’t I? Before Annie started feeding me like a king. Like steaks and chicken? That would be acceptable, wouldn’t it?”

  “Sure. And salad. Yeah, I could make a salad. I guess. You just cut stuff up, right? How hard could that be?”

  She showered and dressed in tight jeans and a light sweater, paying special attention to her makeup. If Ben chose to reject her she would at least remind him what he was missing.

  Drake turned on the gas barbeque and tossed salt and pepper on the steak and chicken breasts while Bella chopped the vegetables she found in the refrigerator.

  The weather was holding out; it was still clear skies and not yet dark when Linus, looking suave in a blue designer suit, arrived with two of the biggest movies stars in the world. Both Stefan and Genevieve were dressed casually and wore hats and sunglasses. They all lingered in the foyer, exchanging hugs. Stefan was holding a pink box with chocolate frosting smeared on the lid. Bella pointed at the box. “What’s in there?”

  “For you, Bellalicious. Cupcakes. I had them express-shipped from your favorite shop in L.A.”

  “You’re the best.” Bella knew and worked with a lot of beautiful people in her profession but Stefan had to be one of the most extraordinary. He had delicate features, a small nose and a slight but well-defined chin with full lips that gave his face a sultry and refined beauty. And yet, almost strangely, it did not deter from a raw and rugged manly quality conveyed through his vulnerable and almost wild dark green eyes. His eyes pulled you inside of him, both watching him onscreen and in real life. Over the years Bella had come to the conclusion that this way of portraying deep emotion and intellect through their eyes was a commonality amongst the great actors.

  While Gennie was still shooting the film in Colombia and after Bella had left Oregon last summer, she’d worked with Stefan on a film in Los Angeles. They’d immediately bonded, quickly developing a gentle rapport like brother and sister. Despite often playing angry characters, Stefan was soft spoken and sensitive. He was also a man susceptible to predatory women because he simply couldn’t fathom duplicity or manipulation and more than once had fallen for his female costars.

  “Oh, I’m so happy,” said Bella now, peering into the cupcake box. There were a dozen, in various flavors. “I call the Chocolate Velvet. Actually, I’ll try one now.”

  “Before dinner?” asked Linus, raising his eyebrows as if he disapproved. “How scandalous.”

  “No one gets as excited about cupcakes as Bella,” teased Gennie, her eyes on Stefan. “We might need to find her a support group.”

  Drake appeared from the front room, punching Bella lightly on the arm, before gesturing towards the kitchen. “Come in. As far as the cupcakes go, you best take one now before Bella eats them all.”

  Stefan closed the lid of the box as they all moved toward the kitchen. “Bella might be the only woman in Los Angeles who actually eats.”

  “Yeah,” she said, glaring at Drake. “And that’s a good thing. Right, Stefan?”

  “Absolutely, Bellalicious,” said Stefan.

  Bella stuck her tongue out at Drake. He rolled his eyes.

  “Did anyone bother you?” asked Bella of Genevieve, referring to the paparazzi.

  “It’s weird but I haven’t seen one photographer since we arrived. I don’t think they know we’re filming here,” said Gennie, taking off her baseball cap and letting her shiny brown hair fall loose about her shoulders. “And if the locals recognize us they’re too polite to approach us so far.”

  Bella looked at Gennie. There was no question she was one of the most recognizable women in the world. Bella forgot this sometimes because Gennie was unpretentious and fun, just a regular girl. But it could not be denied that she was, quite simply, stunning. She was tall and slender with eyes the color of iced tea and full lips covering impossibly white, straight teeth. Her skin was fair for a brunette and glowed with health. “I should hate you for being so damn beautiful,” Bella whispered to her as they linked arms and headed toward the large windows in the main sitting room.

  “I’m a mess,” Gennie whispered back. “I can’t figure out how to do my makeup without you.”

  “The river’s below,” said Bella to Gennie and Stefan, pointing out the window. “Is Tiffany Archer here yet?” She turned away from the window and went to warm her legs by the stone fireplace. “They follow her everywhere.”

  “I didn’t see any news people or paparazzi in town. We may have a few days of respite on that but they’ll find us soon enough,” said Gennie, following her to the fireplace. “They always do.”

  “I think you have it worse than I do,” said Stefan with smile. “Must be because you’re a huge movie star and I’m just some two-bit actor from Canada.”

  Gennie laughed. It was a real laugh, too, thought Bella. The kind that came from her chest; she hadn’t heard it for a while. And Stefan was staring at her adoringly. Already? This is the way it was with Genevieve Banks. Everyone fell in love with her eventually.

  Annie had come into the room, looking considerably better than she had that afternoon. Introductions were mad
e and they all settled back into seats around the room.

  “Who’s Tiffany Archer?” asked Drake, picking up the thread of the earlier conversation.

  “Jeez, Drake, do you know anything about my world?” Bella pretended to be annoyed. Did he live in a box here on the side of this mountain? “She’s their costar. She’s just out of rehab and the press are all over her twenty-four seven.”

  “Is she the one who shaved her head and put the photo on Twitter?” asked Drake.

  Bella chuckled, getting up and going to the bar. She poured Annie a glass of sparkling water. “No, that was someone else. Tiffany just keeps driving her car high and drunk and getting arrested. This last stint in rehab was her fourth time, I think. I worked with her four or five years ago, before all the trouble was public. She’s a sweet girl, actually, from what I remember. But wow, I had to do some major repair on her face a couple of times. Several days she came onto the set with bruises on her face and arms, which I had to cover up with heavy makeup so we could get the shots we needed. The director was not happy. He made both of us cry, actually. But anyway, when I asked her where she got the bruises she made up some story about tripping outside a bar, but I got the feeling it was something more personal. Like maybe an abusive boyfriend.”

  Annie shivered as she sat on one of the couches with a worried look on her face. “Poor girl. I hope she’s escaped him. That said, I also hope she doesn’t ruin your film.”

  “Richard’s taking a big risk but he believes everyone deserves a second chance,” said Bella. “And he thinks she’s talented. She was only seventeen when she did the film about the country singer and his rebellious daughter and she was spectacular.”

  “Richard’s the director,” Bella said to Drake, knowing he would have no idea.

  “Wasn’t she nominated for an Oscar for that one?” asked Annie.

  “Oh, look at Annie, all up with the gossip,” said Linus.

  “I didn’t know you cared about this kind of thing,” said Bella to Annie.

  Annie looked sheepish. “I don’t really. But I was at the dentist last week and there was a big article about her in People. All about her career and rehab and everything. I feel bad for her. She has that look in her eyes of a lost little girl. I want to set her down at my kitchen table and give her a bowl of pasta and then send her to bed.”

  Bella laughed as she made a martini, up with two olives, for herself. “If anything could help her, it’d be one of your meals.”

  Linus pointed at Bella’s martini. “Make one of those for me too.”

  Annie continued, serious about her subject. “Her parents were killed in a car accident, according to the article. When she was only sixteen or something. So sad.”

  “The girl’s got chops,” said Stefan. “Anyway, everyone deserves another go round in this business after they’ve made a few mistakes. She had fame come to her so fast and furious. One day she’s a girl from some small town in Idaho and the next thing she knows she’s on every billboard in the country and every magazine cover and nominated in the same category with Meryl Streep. It could cause anyone to go crazy.”

  Annie nodded, brushing back her unruly curls from her face. “That makes perfect sense. She was just a child when all that happened. It would take a strong person to get through it without going a little crazy. Anyway, she’s come to the right town for a second chance. Maybe some of our good vibes will rub off on her.”

  “Her twin sister goes everywhere with her,” said Bella. “She tries to keep her on the right track but clearly it’s a tough job.” Sabrina Archer was Tiffany’s manager and assistant. Nothing went to Tiffany without first going through her sister.

  What wasn’t said, but Bella knew only too well, given her job, was that Tiffany’s looks had faded since her debut when she was eighteen. What had been exquisite, delicate beauty—she was fair skinned, a natural blond with piercing green eyes and a slightly crooked mouth that made her seem vulnerable and interesting—had faded with age and hard living into something more ordinary. She was no longer getting lead roles, not because of her reputation but because she wasn’t pretty enough to carry a film. Now destined to be a character actress, more the quirky best friend roles or the psycho neighbor, or, as was the case in this film, the sister who doesn’t get the man. It would be up to her now, in Bella’s opinion, to act so well that no one could dispute her talent. There was honor in that. No matter the sharks posing as critics or the haters that posted cruel things about her on their blogs and tweets and Facebook pages.

  “I think I saw her sister in town the other day.” Annie set her drink on the coffee table. “I hope this doesn’t sound callous but it freaked me out a little when I saw her. I thought it was Tiffany at first and then she turned and I saw her scar.”

  “It happens all the time. Sabrina hates it. She never goes to events or parties because of it,” said Bella. Sabrina’s scar was a skinny scarlet ribbon that ran from her left cheekbone to the corner of her mouth.

  “Does anyone know what happened to her?” asked Stefan.

  “No one I know,” said Bella. It was one of those things no one could ask. Everyone knew about it and wondered how it happened but neither of the sisters talked about it.

  The conversation continued but Bella wasn’t fully listening. Where was Ben? Had he decided to skip dinner after what happened between them?

  Drake had disappeared out back to grill the meat. Bella excused herself from the group and followed him, careful not to spill what was left of her martini. The light had faded by now; it was just an orange glow behind the trees. “Is Ben coming to dinner?” she asked her brother.

  Drake, shutting the cover of his grill, looked at her sharply. “No. He decided he had something better to do, apparently.”

  She watched him. His light blue eyes were cold. “Are you mad at him?”

  He set the spatula on the bench next to his grill. “You know, Bella, I am. I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing. Kissing you this afternoon and then running off like a coward.”

  “You know he kissed me?”

  “Yes, unfortunately, I do.” He walked over to the outside cooler where he kept drinks and grabbed a beer. “I happened to see you guys. I think I’m scarred for life.” This was Drake’s attempt at humor, she knew, but it didn’t come out funny.

  “I’m sorry.” She took a big sip of her martini. It burned her throat. “It’s my fault. I blew it with him and now he can’t get past it.”

  “You know what? I call bullshit on that. You’ve done what you needed to do and you’ve let him know you’re interested. If he can’t get it together enough to give you guys another chance when he’s clearly in love with you then that’s just cowardly and not the man I thought he was.”

  She stared at her brother. He’d never taken her side before, especially when it came to her choices with men.

  “You were brave, Bella, and that matters.”

  “I just did what Annie told me to do.”

  “That’s what both of us should do at all times.” He opened the grill, turned the meat and then closed the lid once more.

  They were quiet for a moment, sipping their drinks and listening to the sizzle coming from the grill. “Drake, are you okay about the baby?”

  His eyes were sad when he smiled. “I am. So very much. But it’s hard, you know, because I miss Chloe so much. I almost feel guilty for being excited.”

  “What’re you going to do about the two rooms you have shut off?”

  He opened the grill again. Smoke came out in a puff. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s not fair to Annie.”

  “I know. She hasn’t asked me to change them. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “It is. But it’s also time.” She paused, putting her hand on his arm. “I’ll help you.”

  “Yeah. Good. Okay.”

  “Drake, I remembered something about Dad. About the day he dangled me over rooftop.”

  He turned away, taking a paper towel and wiping
the platter free of the blood left from the raw meat. “What’s that?” His voice was guarded. He hated to talk of it, she knew, but her need to tell him what she remembered outweighed any feelings of protectiveness.

  “It was you who saved me. Did you know that?”

  He looked at her, his eyes blinking five times fast. “I don’t remember anything from that day. I don’t know how you possibly could. You’d just started preschool.”

  “It was you, Drake. You pulled us back. You straddled him and beat on his face until the cops came. I remembered it in therapy.”

  He leaned against the wall, shaking his head, his face twisted in pain. “He was a monster, not a man. And you were such a sweet little girl. I remember that. Mom and I both adored you.”

  Bella’s eyes filled. “I’ve carried it around for so long, you know, this idea that I was somehow bad enough to deserve what happened. I don’t know if I even realized it fully but, well, it explains so much of what I do to mess up my life. Especially with men.”

  “I know, Bellybear. I know. And this is a great place for a second chance.” He pulled her against his chest, kissing the top of her head. “Wish Mom could see how beautiful you are.”

  “Me too.”

  Bella and Gennie, wrapped in blankets, lay side by side on the lounge chairs on Drake’s deck, staring up at the night sky. It was clear, the horizon almost blue and the stars millions of silver splintered lights, brighter than anywhere Bella had ever been.

  Gennie, her gaze fixed upward, reached over and took Bella’s hand. “I’ve been a lot of places and I’ve never seen stars like this.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “This is why we’re best friends,” said Gennie, squeezing her hand. “Kindred spirits.”

  They were silent for a moment. Looking up at the stars was like standing next to the ocean, thought Bella. One felt insignificant and yet also omnificent, as if it were possible to steal the power displayed, for nourishment and strength, possibly even courage.