The River Valley Series

by Tess Thompson

  “What?” asked Gennie.

  “Tiffany just walked in. With Benjamin Fleck.”

  “I thought she promised Richard she’d stay clean and sober for the shoot,” said Genevieve after glancing towards them.

  Stefan turned to look and then shook his head sadly. “Clearly the deal’s off. She’s loaded.”

  He was right. Tiffany was hanging on Ben’s arm and walking unsteadily. There were dark smudges of mascara under her eyes and her lipstick was smeared, making her look almost clown-like. Her hair was wet too. It must have started raining. What was Ben doing with her? Had they been out together? The idea of his hands on her made Bella physically ill. Her dinner churned. How could she get out of here without him seeing her?

  Tommy began another song, a slow ballad. Most of the crowd danced, couples moving across the dance floor in various degrees of skill. Ben, with his arm around the drunk Tiffany Archer, headed towards them. Dammit, thought Bella, no way to escape.

  “Hey everybody,” Tiffany slurred.

  “What the hell?” Bella asked before Ben could open his mouth. “She just got out of rehab. You really think getting her drunk was a good idea?”

  Genevieve had slid from her stool and was now getting Tiffany situated in her place. Cindi, without anyone needing to say anything, set a coffee in front of her inebriated guest.

  “I did not get her drunk,” said Ben, emphasizing every word, his eyes snapping. “I happened to be driving into town when I saw her stumble out of Lefty’s and head for her car. There were two men lurking in the parking lot, not to mention she’s clearly in no shape to drive. I brought her in here knowing you were here, Bella, and thought you could help me.”

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “Tommy texted me.”

  Tommy texted him? Why had he done that? She glanced at the stage. Tommy winked at her. She flipped him off behind her hand but he didn’t seem to care. He simply grinned and said to the crowd, “Here’s a song for all the love birds out there tonight.”

  Ben steadied Tiffany on the bar stool by putting both his hands on her shoulders. “Cindi, is there any food left in the kitchen?”

  “I’ll go see,” said Cindi. “Just let me finish making these here drinks first.”

  “This is good of you, man,” said Stefan to Ben. He held out his hand. “Good to meet you.”

  “You too,” said Ben. “Big fan.”

  “Hey, thanks. Bella’s told us a lot about you,” said Stefan.

  Bella twisted on her stool, suddenly finding the remaining olive on the toothpick enormously interesting.

  “Don’t believe all the bad things she says. I’m actually a good guy,” said Ben.

  “He rescued me,” said Tiffany.

  “Sweetie, where’s your sister tonight?” Genevieve pushed the coffee closer to Tiffany. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

  “We had a fight. She’s mad at me,” said Tiffany, shaking her head in refusal of the coffee.

  “What happened?” asked Bella.

  “Oh, just the usual,” said Tiffany.

  No one said anything, not knowing, of course, what “the usual” was. Although it wasn’t too much of a leap to assume it was Tiffany’s drinking. Still, this surprised Bella. She’d never seen the sisters fight. Sabrina was protective and supportive, always defending Tiffany even when she didn’t deserve it, which was most of the time.

  Just then, they saw Sabrina come in the front door, her eyes darting to where they all huddled around Tiffany. In long strides, she approached them, moving through the crowd, ignoring the stares that came her way.

  “Tiff, what happened to you?” Her scar, running from her cheekbone to her mouth, was a scarlet line.

  Tiffany put her face into her hands and began to cry. “Sorry, Sabrina.”

  Ben held out his hand to Sabrina. “I’m Ben Fleck. I saw her about to get into her car outside Lefty’s and thought I’d bring her here to get some food in her.”

  Sabrina looked up at Ben, scrutinizing his face with a look of distrust. “That right? You just happened to see her coming out of the bar?”

  Ben looked over at Bella, his eyes pleading with her to help him.

  Bella put her hand on Sabrina’s arm. “He’s okay. He’s a friend of mine.”

  Cindi came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of soup and a dinner roll. “This here’s all we have left from dinner.” She set it next to the now cold coffee. “Come on, baby,” she said to Tiffany. “No more crying. Just get a little food in you and you’ll feel better.”

  Sabrina, watching her sister, rubbed her temples before looking over at Bella. “You know what? I’ve had enough for tonight. Can one of you just get her back to the lodge? We’re in adjoining rooms, 502 and 501. She’s in 501. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t wake me when you come in.”

  “Sure, yeah, I’ll get her back,” said Ben. “We’ll get her to eat.”

  Sabrina looked at Ben with less mistrust than the moment before, but it was there just the same. “What do you want out of this? How much will it take to get you to sell out to the first tabloid that calls you?”

  “No, Sabrina, he’s not like that,” said Bella. “He’s only trying to help. He probably saved her life tonight when he didn’t let her get in that car. He and my brother go way back,” she added by way of explanation.

  “There were two men following me, sissy,” said Tiffany, raising her head. Her mascara was streaked down both sides of her face. “I was trying to get away from them. They followed me when I came out of the bathroom, so I had to get to my car and get away from them.”

  “I saw them,” said Ben to Sabrina. “I didn’t recognize them but they didn’t look like anyone you’d want around your sister.” He paused, looking over at Bella for a moment before meeting Sabrina’s gaze directly. “And I am most certainly not interested in selling a story to one of those morally bankrupt tabloids.”

  “That’s what they all say,” said Sabrina.

  Bella walked Sabrina out to her car. It had stopped raining hard but there was a light mist that would make her hair curl up like a short bush on top of her head. Ben. Why did she have to care what he thought of her?

  Sabrina leaned against the side of her car. “Bella, I’m so tired of this. I really thought she was different this time, thought she’d finally grown up.” She took keys out of the bag over her shoulder. “How the hell am I going to get Richard and Graham to overlook this?”

  “Maybe it’s just a minor setback. People relapse all the time. She said you two had a fight.”

  Sabrina shook her head, a look of bafflement on her face. “That’s ridiculous. We didn’t have a fight. I don’t know why she’d say that. We never fight. I left her in her room after dinner with her script and a hot bath running. I made sure they’d taken all the booze out of the minibar. I thought she was good.”

  “Listen, if it helps, I’ll talk to Graham for you. And I know Richard believes in her. And, really, there’s no reason they even have to know. Ben and I will get her back to her room and settled in. Maybe this can just blow over. Okay?”

  “I guess. Regardless, I need to get to bed. Tomorrow’s going to be rough either way. Sometimes I don’t know what’s worse, drunk Tiffany or shamed, hung-over Tiffany.”

  “It’ll be all right. Just get her to me in the morning and I’ll fix her so she looks like she had that bath and went to bed early.”

  “Bella, thank you.” Sabrina’s eyes filled with tears. “You have no idea how important it is that she keep this job.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Bella softly.

  “We’re broke. Dead broke. Most of what she’s made she’s blown on bad investments and snorting it up her nose. If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what will happen to us.”

  “Surely it isn’t that bad?”

  “Yeah, Bella, it is. We’re up against it here.”

  “Well, we just have to make sure she keeps this job then.” She hugged Sabrina. “It’ll be al
l right.”

  After Sabrina drove away, Bella went back inside Riversong. It was almost eleven o’clock and Tommy’s band was putting away their instruments. The place had emptied of almost all the patrons except for a few tables finishing drinks. Her friends and Ben were where she’d left them at the bar. Tiffany, Bella was glad to see, was eating her soup with Ben sitting next to her. Cindi was putting clean glasses on the shelves behind the bar. Genevieve and Stefan were huddled together, talking quietly.

  Ben looked up at her when she slid onto the barstool next to him. “Everything okay?”

  She nodded, still processing what Sabrina had just told her. “Yeah.”

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” said Tiffany, still slurring her words. She had broccoli bisque on the side of her face.

  “I’ll take her,” said Genevieve. “I need to go too. And then I should get out of here and get some beauty sleep.” She said this last part to Stefan.

  “Don’t oversleep, then,” said Stefan, smiling at her. “The world can’t take it if you’re any more beautiful.”

  Genevieve laughed, blushing. “You’re just getting me buttered up for our scene tomorrow.”

  He sobered. “Don’t worry. Like I said, it’ll be okay. I’ll take care of you.”

  Genevieve put her hands on both of her cheeks, gazing at him, her brown eyes warm. “You’re sweet.” She steadied herself on the back of Stefan’s barstool. “Jeez, I think I’m a little drunk, too.”

  “After two glasses? Cheap date, huh?” Stefan held out his hand to her, a little too eagerly. Another man falling for Genevieve. Poor bastard wouldn’t know what hit him. “I’ll get you back to the hotel.” He looked over at Ben and Bella. “As long as you two can get Tiffany home?”

  “We’re on it,” said Ben, exchanging a look with Stefan that could only be described as man code for, I got you covered, man, I know what you’re up to here.

  Genevieve turned to Tiffany. “Come on, doll, let’s get you to the bathroom and home to sleep it off.”

  “I’m fine,” said Tiffany, stumbling as she slid from the barstool.

  Genevieve put her arm around Tiffany. “I know. But I’ll hold onto you just in case.”

  “I’m going to hit the restroom as well,” said Stefan. “And thanks, man, for letting me get Gennie home.”

  Bella put her hand on Stefan’s shoulder. “Be careful with her. She’s more fragile than she looks.”

  He nodded, his eyes soft. “I know. I get that.”

  Stefan headed towards the men’s room, leaving Ben and Bella alone at the bar. She let her gaze slide to him. He was watching her. “What?”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Her heart skipped and fluttered. “Not compared to this group I hang with.”

  He shook his head. “I disagree. You’re still the prettiest girl at the party.”

  “Ben. Don’t.”

  He looked at her, long and hard, the evasiveness gone from his eyes. “I think of you more than I should. I came out tonight knowing you were here.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. Then I saw Tiffany.”

  “Most men wouldn’t have wanted to get their hands dirty, unless they thought they could get laid, which obviously isn’t what you wanted or you wouldn’t have come here.”

  “There was no way I was leaving her in that parking lot with those guys obviously following her. And I have no interest in sleeping with her. As a matter of fact, she repulses me.” He glanced towards the bathroom and lowered his voice. “What a screwed up girl. She was telling me some crazy stuff in the car on the way over here.”

  “Like what?”

  But before he could answer, Genevieve and Tiffany were coming towards them. Ben stood, reaching for Tiffany’s jacket and helping her into it. By then, Stefan was there as well.

  “Gennie, you all set?” asked Stefan, with a covert wink at Ben, offering his arm to his costar.

  “I am.” She kissed Bella on the cheek. “Be ready to make me beautiful first thing tomorrow.”

  “You know it,” said Bella.

  “I’ll steal you a couple of donuts from the buffet at the lodge.”

  “Cherry Danish if they have them,” said Bella. “This is serious.”

  “I know.” Gennie leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Be careful with Ben.”

  “I will,” she whispered back.

  “But not too careful either.”

  Gennie and Stefan walked away, arm in arm.

  Tiffany looked as if she might fall asleep on her feet. Ben put his arm around her and pointed her toward the door. “Come on, slugger, let’s get you into bed.” Tiffany turned suddenly and wrapped her arms around his neck before planting a wet kiss on his mouth. “What’s your name again?”

  Bella looked away, her stomach turning. Get your hands off him, she screamed silently. He’s supposed to be mine.

  Ben tucked Tiffany’s head against his chest, making eye contact with Bella. “I’m sorry. Didn’t see that coming.”

  “Maybe I should get her back to the hotel,” Bella said. No telling what might happen if Ben Fleck was alone in a hotel room with Tiffany Archer: drunk and promiscuous and aggressive.

  Ben lifted Tiffany and plopped her onto a barstool. “Just sit here for a minute while I talk to Bella.”

  “Okay, hurry though.” Tiffany, her eyes unfocused, wrapped an arm around the back of the stool as if her life depended on it.

  Cindi, looking thoroughly disgusted, set a fresh glass of water in front of Tiffany. “Oh, girl, you’re just a hot mess.”

  Ben took Bella’s hand, leading her over near the entrance to the kitchen where it was quieter. “Honestly, I don’t know if you’re capable of getting her back to her room. I have a feeling I may need to carry her upstairs. You go back to Drake’s and wait for me in the guesthouse. We’ll talk.” He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the mouth and then harder, pulling her close.

  “I’ve missed this,” she whispered against his mouth. “So much.”

  “Me too. I’ve tried to stay away from you but after I saw you at the wedding you’re all I can think of.”

  “Ben, I won’t break your heart. I promise.”

  He smiled, his eyes dancing the way they did the first time she met him. “I don’t know if that’s true but I guess it’s worth the risk.”

  “Just take a chance with me, Ben. I won’t disappear on you ever again.”

  He kissed her, this time pressing her against the wall before pulling away. “Wait for me. I’ll do this as fast as I can.”

  Chapter 4

  Bella let herself into the guesthouse. The ground level was set up as a home gym, but above were a fully furnished sitting room, bedroom, bathroom, and small kitchen, all beautifully decorated in the same rustic and modern fusion as the main house. Since she’d been here last, the sitting room had a lived-in quality. There were a half-dozen fly-fishing magazines, a copy of a James Patterson novel and a copy of one of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s book of essays on the coffee table. The decorative throw pillows were piled on one end of the couch like they’d recently been used for a nap. The small desk in the corner was scattered with various fly-fishing ties and Ben’s tying equipment: tweezers, floss in various colors, several types of pliers, razorblades. A vise attached to the table held a tie with a shiny silver quill. She yawned, resisting the urge to rub her eyes. Ben better hurry or she wasn’t going to be able to stay awake. But she wasn’t due on set until eleven o’clock the next morning so she could sleep in, although she didn’t want to be late. Tiffany needed her; it might take longer than usual to cover up the night of drinking. She curled up on the black leather couch, resting her head on the softest of the throw pillows.

  She woke to the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Opening her eyes, she peeked up over the back of the couch. It was Ben, his eyes red from fatigue. The front of his shirt was wet, like something had spilled on it.

  “Sorry it took me so long,” he said. “She
started vomiting the minute I got her into the room. I’ve never seen a girl that small puke that much.”

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after midnight.”

  “Good God, she’s a pain in the ass.”

  “I was dying to get back here to you but I couldn’t leave her to choke on her own vomit. Finally she stopped and I was able to get her into bed.” He offered his hand and pulled her gently to her feet. “Come to bed.”

  “Do you have a toothbrush?” asked Bella.

  “Yeah, there’s an extra one under the sink.”

  She followed him into the bathroom. He handed her a new toothbrush and toothpaste. Behind her, Ben turned on the shower. “Need to get the smell of drunk girl off me,” he said. “I’ll just be a minute. Get into bed.”

  “I love it when you boss me around.”

  He laughed. She brushed her teeth, listening to him lather his body with soap. From the mirror, she saw his hand reach for the shampoo from a hanging basket around the showerhead.

  After her mouth felt clean, she went into the bedroom, stripping down to nothing and sliding between the cool sheets. She was on her side, facing the wall and trying not to drift off to sleep when he pulled back the covers and got in with her. “You still awake?” he asked against her neck, his fingers on her hips and then trailing up to her breast. His hair was wet on her skin, his body warm and damp. She rolled onto her back and slipped her arms around his neck. His breath smelled of peppermint, his neck of his cologne. She sighed, awake now, wanting him. He kissed her, searching her mouth with his tongue until she was breathless.

  “We should probably talk first,” he whispered, his mouth trailing down her neck to her breasts.

  “Probably.”

  But it was too late by then. They were lost to it, this attraction between them stronger than any rational thought. Like two teenagers in the backseat of a car, she thought, wrapping her legs around him. Before she could think of what was happening next, he was inside her, thrusting hard, both of them unable to slow down, her hands on the backs of his legs, his holding her hips. She climaxed hard and fast, crying out; in the next instant he joined her, letting out a small groan.