The River Valley Series

by Tess Thompson

  “Babe, this is on every news channel and all over the web. They’re making you out to be the type of girl who leaves her baby in a dumpster to die. You’ve been without reproach for your entire career, and the vultures have patiently waited for you to fall. You stand back from this and your reputation and career will spiral downward in a matter of weeks. Trust me. We’ve seen it too many times before.”

  Trix continued, this time with a greater tone of impatience, “You’ve got to get in front of this. There’s no way this is going to blow over anytime soon. Reid can set our strategy, and we’ll have you booked on the morning talk shows by tomorrow.” Trix sounded breathless, like she was walking up a hill. Get in front of this? How would they do that? “One other thing. The girl contacted me. Her name’s Sarah. Seems like a great kid. She said she has no intention of asking for money or anything, but she wants to meet you. She has a lot of questions. She’s been looking for you since her mother died.”

  Sarah. They had named her Sarah. “She has?”

  “She could start talking to the press. It’s best to keep her close.”

  “Jeez, Trix, how thoughtful of you.”

  “Listen, this is no time for you or me to go all sentimental. You pay me to keep scandal from touching you. I’m just doing my job.”

  “I need to call my mother. I’ll call you back in an hour.”

  “Fine. One hour. That’s all you have, though. I mean it, Gennie. This is serious. You can’t just pull your ostrich move. And I’m texting you Sarah’s number. You can decide if you want to call her.”

  After Gennie hung up, she sat for a moment, shaking and staring at the text with Sarah’s number. My baby is all grown up. She wants to meet me. All this echoed in her mind in a mess of jumbled thoughts. Looking for me? She was looking for me. What would I tell her about her father? Was it best for Gennie to stay away and let the poor girl live her life without knowing the truth? Yes, of course it was. Learning she came from a rape could devastate her. It was up to Gennie to protect her, just as it had always been.

  A text showed up on her screen from the driver who was supposed to pick her up at eight, saying the roads were closed until the afternoon.

  She went to the window. Sure enough, they were snowed in by at least two feet of snow. Great. Now what was she supposed to do? She needed to talk to her mom. No decisions until they talked it through. Her mom would know what to do.

  She answered after several rings. “Genevieve?” She sounded sleepy. “Is everything all right?”

  “Mom, George Bentley went to the press. It’s all over the news.”

  “What? It can’t be.”

  “Yes, Mom. It is.” Without taking a breath, she filled her mother in on everything she knew.

  “How could he do such a thing? They seemed like such a nice couple.”

  “He must have money problems,” Gennie said. “Everything’s always about money.”

  “Are you coming home today? We can figure out what to do together.”

  “I’m snowed in here for the morning at least.” She explained what the driver had said. “But, Mom, I’m thinking I should just stay here until we figure out what to do. The press thinks I’m in Hawaii. I don’t think I can face the paparazzi right now.”

  “My poor baby. Do you want me to come there? I can be on a plane this afternoon.”

  Gennie thought for a moment. “Yes, Mom.” Her voice shook. “I need you.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “I’ll call Blair and have her send a car and arrange a flight for you. Can you be ready?”

  “Of course, honey. I’ll have to dig out my winter jacket and boots.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  She dialed Blair next. Most of Gennie’s colleagues had their assistants travel with them, but she felt more comfortable taking care of many things on her own. Having an assistant with her made her feel trapped and like nothing in her life was private. So Blair worked from Los Angeles most of the time, only occasionally coming to the locations where Gennie filmed. She’d been in Oregon just last week, helping Gennie sort through some details of her upcoming projects. This past Monday, Gennie had insisted Blair fly home to Georgia to be with her family for the holidays.

  Blair answered right away. “Oh, Gennie. I just saw the news. Why are they saying all these things about you?” Blair was twenty-nine and, having grown up in a small town in Northern Georgia, still had a thick southern accent. Even though she’d lived in Los Angeles for half a decade, the sweet little sundresses and cardigans she wore always made her look like she’d just stepped out of a Baptist church service.

  “I didn’t abandon her. I gave her up for adoption.”

  “Because you were so young?”

  “Yes, mostly.” Gennie played with the trim on the bed sheet. “It’s complicated. But I want you to know it isn’t how it looks.”

  “Gennie, I know you’d never just toss a baby out in the snow.”

  “Jesus, is that what they’re saying?”

  “The father’s insinuating as much,” Blair said.

  She asked Blair to make travel arrangements for her mother. After they disconnected, Gennie grabbed the throw blanket from the end of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  Two seconds later, Stefan called.

  “You saw the news,” she said.

  “No, I was asleep. Richard saw it on the news and called me.”

  “Trix says they’re making it out like I’m a baby killer. Is it that bad?”

  “They’ve named it ‘Babybanks-gate.’”

  “Oh God.”

  “Do you want me to come to your room?”

  Her instinct was to say no, but of everyone in the world, he was the person she most wanted to see. “Yeah, that would be good. Thanks.”

  They hung up just as the phone buzzed again. This time it was Bella.

  “Is the story true?”

  Gennie repeated what she’d just said to Blair.

  “I can’t believe you never told me. We’re supposed to be best friends. You know everything about me. Don’t you trust me?”

  “Bella, it’s nothing to do with trust. I made a decision a long time ago never to tell anyone about the baby.”

  “What really happened?”

  Her right eye twitched. Should she tell Bella she’d been raped? Gennie had no doubt she could trust Bella, but did she want to say the words out loud to anyone? What good would it do for Bella to know? “I got pregnant at fifteen, and I gave the baby up for adoption. Legal and closed adoption. I chose the adoptive parents from a large pool of candidates. I thought they would be great parents for her. The Buckleys were not supposed to talk about it.” She walked to the window, moving the shade an inch to look outside. More snow had fallen while they’d slept. At least twelve inches lined the railing of the balcony.

  “What a dick,” Bella said.

  “Seems I didn’t choose the right couple after all.”

  “I’m so sorry, Gennie. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, I’m fine. You have your hands full with Bellalicious. I don’t want you to worry over this.”

  In the past few weeks, Bella had spent much of her time flying back and forth to and from Los Angeles, working with chemists to make the beta products. Good God, the business. What would this do the business? She hadn’t thought about Bellalicious until now. Bella had worked like the devil to make it successful. What would a scandal like this do their business plans? Would it hurt the marketing campaign to have Gennie as the face of the company? The scandal might put the whole project in jeopardy. It would certainly distract the consumer from their products or messaging. “I don’t have my head around any of this yet, but you may need to find another celebrity to be the face of our company. I don’t want this to jeopardize all of your hard work.” The launch of the products was a year away. There was time to change course if needed. The most important thing was Bella’s success. She’
d worked too hard to have Gennie ruin it.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Bella said. “Once you explain everything, all will be forgiven. You did the right thing. A fifteen-year-old can’t raise a baby. Everyone will see that. And, don’t worry about what this means for our company. You decide how you want to handle this and we’ll figure it out. Together.”

  “We’ll see.” A knock on the door drew her attention away from Bella. Stefan. She fought tears of relief. She needed to see him, to talk all this through with him. “I’ll call you later when my phone isn’t blowing up.”

  After hanging up with Bella, she pulled a sweatshirt over her head to cover her filmy pajama top and went to the door. As soon as it opened, Stefan stepped inside and pulled her into his arms. “Are you okay?” The door swung closed behind them.

  Resting her cheek against his shoulder, she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to his warmth. “I’m so cold.”

  “You’re probably in shock. Let’s turn on the fire.” With his arm around her, he led her over to the chairs in front of the fireplace. “Sit. I’ll make us some coffee.” He flipped the fireplace switch, and the flames sputtered to life. “I talked to Tommy before I came over. It’ll take until the afternoon to clear the roads. Let’s just hope your location doesn’t leak to the press. All we need is a million reporters outside the inn.”

  “No one knows where I am.”

  “Let’s hope it stays that way,” Stefan said.

  “Trix put out false reports yesterday that we’d finished filming and I’d flown immediately to Hawaii for the Thanksgiving holiday. Sky’s staying at some hotel in Maui with instructions to sit poolside in big sunglasses and a hat and order drinks under my name.” Sky was a former model of the same height and build as Gennie. Not only did Sky stand in as a body double during filming, but they also often hired her to throw the paparazzi off of Gennie’s true whereabouts. “There’s probably a hundred members of the press on a plane to Hawaii as we speak.” Had Trix warned Sky of the impending trouble? Most likely, she had. Trix never left one detail unattended. “Trix wants Reid to help us with public perception.”

  Stefan, at the bar, pushed a button on the Keurig. “The Scandal Whisperer guy?” The aroma of coffee filled the room.

  “That’s right.”

  He handed her a cup. “Drink this. It’ll warm you.”

  She thanked him, holding the cup between her cold hands. He’d made it just as she liked it. A teaspoon of cream, no sugar.

  After he’d made another cup, he joined her by the fire. Facial stubble and bloodshot eyes made him look older than when she’d last seen him.

  “Did you sleep?” she asked.

  “Not much.” He sipped from his mug. They were both silent for a moment, sipping their coffee.

  She decided she would tell Stefan exactly what she’d just told Bella. No more, no less. Except, the words wouldn’t come.

  Before she could think of a way to start, Stefan spoke. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “I didn’t want to tell anyone about it. It happened a long time ago.”

  His expression darkened. He turned toward the fire. “I understand. The past should remain the past.”

  “I was practically a child when it happened. I didn’t abandon her.” She told him the same story she’d told Bella. “It was all done properly. That was important to my mother. The church helped us pick the parents. We thought the Bentleys were good people. Good Catholics. It was a closed adoption. Records sealed.”

  Had she imagined it, or had he flinched when she’d said the last part?

  The air had gone from the room. She couldn’t breathe. Black dots appeared before her eyes. Her hand shook as she set her coffee cup on the side table. “I can’t do this again. I can’t relive this nightmare.” She wasn’t strong enough to continue lying, and yet it was her only option. She must do everything she could to protect the people she loved.

  Stefan set his mug aside and knelt on the floor. He wrapped his fingers around her upper arms. “Sweetheart, just breathe. Here, breathe with me. Just in and out, that’s right.”

  She followed his directions until the black dots disappeared.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he said. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Reid can fix the public perception. You can do an interview or whatever. You were a teenager who did the right thing.”

  “I thought I did.” Hot tears scalded her cheeks. “She wants to meet me. She knows who I am now. She’s been looking for me.”

  He reached across her and pulled several tissues from the box on the side table. “Do you want to meet her?” He placed the tissues in her hand.

  She wiped under her eyes and nose. “I want to. But I shouldn’t. She’ll have questions I’m not prepared to answer.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “She’ll want to know why I gave her up. Who is her father? Were we in love? How did she come to be? And, no matter what, I can’t tell her the truth.” She blew into the tissues. “All I’ve ever wanted was for her to have a normal life. A safe life.”

  “Safe?” His eyes went wide, then searching. “Because of your fame? The paparazzi? What do you mean?”

  She reached for more tissues and pressed them into her stinging eyes. “No. It’s not that. I could protect her from all of this. It’s so much bigger than the paparazzi.” She shuddered, remembering how Murphy had repeated the same phrase over and over as he thrust inside her. You want this, little girl, you want this.

  “Gennie, what is it? What happened?” Stefan wrapped his hands around her knees.

  She met his searching gaze without the energy to hide her pain. Yet, she could not bring herself to tell him the truth. To utter the words out loud felt impossible. “It wasn’t just that I was fifteen with a baby out of wedlock.”

  His eyes narrowed. He blinked and cocked his head to the right. His gaze shifted to the ceiling and back to her face. His face flushed and heat radiated from his skin. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He wrapped both his hands in his messy hair, holding his head for a moment like it hurt. “Oh, Gennie, no.” She’d said too much. He understood it all now. Her arms fell to her lap, hands clenched like claws, grasping at the fabric of her pajamas. He pried them loose and held them like baby birds he didn’t want to crush in his damp palms. His classically trained voice wavered. “You were raped.”

  The back of her throat ached. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He sat back on his haunches, tears in his eyes, his hands limp in his lap. “I see now.” The muscle in his left cheek twitched. “I understand everything now.”

  “I didn’t want the baby to ever know the truth. That’s why it was so important to me that it was a closed adoption.”

  “Was it someone you knew?”

  She flinched like he’d slapped her. “I can’t tell you.” Reality faded, and memory yanked her back to the worst moments of her life. Those moments invaded her mind and hijacked her senses. A purple vein protruded from his forehead and spittle formed on the sides of his mouth. He smelled of booze and sweat as he ripped her in two. She screamed from the burning pain until he put his hand over her mouth and nose. When he ejaculated, he bleated like a goat and shuddered. When he took his hand from her face, the scent of blood and metal gagged her. She was so young; she didn’t know the scent of a man’s semen. It wasn’t until later, when she sat on the toilet in her own bathroom, howling and wishing she were dead, that she realized the smell of metal was from his ejaculation. It had made its way into her nose, lingering long after she had showered and scrubbed her skin raw. She had no idea that it had also impregnated her.

  Now, she wept into her hands, thinking of the little girl he killed that day. She was never again innocent, never again truly at peace. He stole her youth in the five minutes it took him to have what he wanted.

  Stefan pulled her into his lap like she was a rag doll and held her while she cried, smoothing her hair and murmuring
reassurances. After a few moments, she’d managed to stop crying, but she couldn’t stop shaking.

  “You need to get warm. Let’s get you under covers,” he said.

  He arranged pillows so she could sit upright and helped her into bed, tucking the covers around her legs and brushing her hair from where it had stuck to her damp cheeks.

  Stefan didn’t press her for details like she thought he would. Instead, he walked over to the bar and made her a cup of tea. Without a word, he handed it to her and sat back on the side of the bed.

  She took a sip and set it on the bedside table. Sitting back on the pillows, she stared at the ceiling. “I’ve never told anyone the truth about who it was. I made up a story about a stranger and a van because he threatened to kill my mother or anyone else I loved. He’s a powerful man, with resources to do whatever he wants to whomever he wants. It was true then, and it’s true now.”

  He spoke softly. “Who is he?” Another level of understanding crossed his face. “He’s a public figure.”

  “He’s powerful, with more money than God.” Her voice shook, but she continued anyway. She must say it all to Stefan. Right now. She had to, or she would die. “Those roses yesterday? He sends them every year on the anniversary of that day to remind me he can do it again, or he can hurt the people I love at any time. He’s everywhere, Stefan.”

  “Jesus, Gennie. Who is this guy?” He’d kept his face stoic during her diatribe, but now the muscle of his left cheek pulsated once again in a steady rhythm. “President of the United States?”

  “Not yet.”

  Stefan stared at her. “Are you talking about Rick Murphy?”

  She nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Rick Murphy was in his first term as a Wisconsin state senator when I was fifteen.” There was no further explanation needed. Everyone knew the Murphy story. They were old money, as rich as the Rockefellers or the Gettys. “Twenty years ago, Rick Murphy was thirty-four. I was fifteen. I won an essay contest and was granted an interview with him for my school’s paper.” Her voice cracked as bile rose in her throat. “It was in his office.” She stopped talking. It was enough. Stefan could fill in the rest. “When he was done, he blindfolded me and left me on a dirt road not far from my house. It was dark. Snow so high I could barely walk. I didn’t know where I was. I thought I was going to die.”