Double Mountain Trouble

by Katerina Cole

  I reached in the fridge for a beer, but left it on the shelf. It wasn’t a beer-drinking day. All I wanted was to protect and shield the most amazing girl from my life. Instead, I had wrecked her.

  I heard a knock on the Sand Dollar door. I looked through the window. Rebecca. What in the hell?

  I held the towel tightly against my waist and cracked the door. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hey to you too.” She smiled.

  “Cut it. There aren’t any cameras here unless you invited them.” I closed my eyes. If she had brought the paparazzi onslaught to the campground, I might have to strangle her.

  “Oh, Ben, what has you all pissy about everything? Can I come in?” She eyed the hipbone where the towel edges came together.

  “No. You can’t.” I sighed. I wasn’t about to let her into the only sanctuary I had left—her perfume filling the place.

  “Can’t we at least talk?” She pouted. “I came all this way for you.”

  I didn’t buy it, but this was my chance to figure out what her end game was.

  “Give me five minutes. I’ll be out. But if I see one damn camera, you are going to regret showing up here.”

  “Ok, baby. I’ll just sit right over here.” She pointed at the chairs by the burned-out fire.

  I closed the door behind me and rushed to the bedroom. I hated she was here, but if I played my cards right, I might get some answers. I wasn’t the most sought-after actor for nothing. If I turned on the charm and the dazzling smile, I might turn this around.

  Three minutes later, I emerged wearing a Davis General Store T-shirt, khaki shorts, and flip-flops. I carried two cups of coffee.

  I handed one to Becs. “Here you go. Half a teaspoon of sugar, just how you like it.”

  “Aw, you remember that?” She was sitting in the seat that was designated as Chelsea’s. I gritted my teeth and refrained from saying anything.

  “Of course. I remember a lot of things.” I settled into the chair next to her. The coffee was piping hot. “Like your love of white roses and puppy memes.”

  “That’s sweet. I can say the same thing about you.” She took a sip. “Wow. This view is gorgeous. Have you been here since June?”

  “Yep.”

  “And what do you do in a place like this? It’s kind of remote. Quaint, but remote.” She eyed Silver Sand Dollar. I knew she wasn’t a camper kind of girl. She was a five-star resort kind of girl.

  I tilted my head toward her. “I’ve been keeping busy. There’s more to do here than you think.”

  “Oh right, with the girl.” She sighed.

  I caught myself before I punched back with something nasty. I couldn’t believe she would mention Chelsea after what had happened yesterday.

  “I like the blond. It looks good,” I commented.

  “Really?” She twisted a curl through her fingers. “It’s part of my new image. Blondes are apparently more relatable right now. At least, that’s what Lana Pine tells me.” I didn’t agree. There was a girl with gorgeous sun-kissed auburn hair who I couldn’t get enough of.

  “Lana knows her stuff. You look good.” I winked, my stomach turning sour. “How is she?”

  Rebecca turned to me. “Perfect and brilliant. You know she has so many incredible ideas, Ben. The hair being the first.” She giggled. “The other will be clearing up this whole island girl mess.”

  I nodded as if I understood what she was talking about. Somewhere in this conversation were the answers I was looking for. I needed to keep it going until she revealed them.

  “About that, Becs, how did anyone find out about Chelsea?” I rested my palm on her knee. I had to do it. Rebecca had to believe I was trying to reconnect in some way.

  She grasped the mug with both hands and took a deep sip. “God, Ben, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’m starting to feel a little guilty, you know?”

  I twirled a circle on her knee with my thumb. “Becs, it’s you and me. You can tell me. You used to tell me everything.”

  She leaned over. “I know I can. And you won’t get mad, right? Promise you won’t get all Texas cowboy mad at me.”

  “Darlin’, I promise.” I smiled. “No cowboy here, just a beach bum hanging out with you.”

  Rebecca and I had never had a smooth relationship. When I first met her on the Wanted set, we had clashed immediately. She needed coaching, and when I tried to guide her, she flew off the handle. But she was beautiful, and when she wanted to be, she was sweet. There was a sort of innocence about her that was hard to resist. I had lost that battle more than once.

  “Have you heard about Love & Bondage?” she asked. Her face was excited.

  “Maybe. Isn’t that the book that’s been number one all summer?”

  “It’s not just number one. It’s the book. It’s the hottest thing that has ever been. Nothing has come close to it.”

  I knew she liked to exaggerate. I sat and listened.

  “I think it’s sold seventy million copies or something. It’s hot. And the story is unbelievable.” She had that look. I had seen that look.

  “Ok, Rebecca, so what does all of this have to do with Love & Bondage?”

  “Art Hampton is going to direct it, and they are going to start casting soon. But it has to be the perfect couple. That couple that has fire and passion and will take over the series. This is life changing. It’s the kind of role that will define us.”

  I stared at her. “Us? What in the hell are you talking about? There is no us.” I took my hand off her knee.

  She looked confused. “I’m talking about you and me being cast in the most epic erotic love story ever written. We can be the stars of Love & Bondage.”

  I shook my head. “So, all of this publicity crap is to drum up an endorsement for us to be the stars of some romance movie? You want backing?”

  “It’s not just a romance. It is the biggest love story of all time. And we could do it. We could totally do it.” She bit her bottom lip. “We were pretty amazing in bed together. Imagine transcending that on the screen.”

  This was fucking unbelievable. I wasn’t campaigning for any roles, and if I were, it wasn’t going to be this one.

  “Becs, I don’t think you’ve talked to Rick. I’m out. I’m done with movies. Sorry, sweetheart, but this isn’t going to happen.” I stood to stretch my legs.

  “What are you talking about? It was all Rick’s idea.” She stood to match my gaze, barely coming up to my shoulder.

  I shook my head. “No. That can’t be. Rick knows how I feel. I’m on an indefinite leave of absence.”

  Her eyes flared. “Wake up, Ben. He did all of it. Rick was the one behind this plan. He found you. You think you can just check out of Hollywood? Don’t you know how many people depend on your brand? Your name? Rick saw our makeup as an opportunity of a lifetime for you and me both. If everyone thinks things between us are volatile and passionate in real life, they are going to want to see us act that out in Love & Bondage.”

  I heard the words, but I couldn’t believe it. Rick had fucked me over royally. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t’.

  “Rick? As in the guy on my payroll Rick? He worked with you to set me up? He sent you here?”

  “Babe, don’t be mad. He was trying to protect you, your foundation, and me. Love & Bondage will be worth it. It’s the answer to all these problems.”

  “I am not going to be in Love & Bondage.” I seethed. My teeth clenched and I felt my neck tighten.

  “You promised we wouldn’t fight.” She stuck her lip out.

  “I’m not fighting with you, Rebecca. I can’t believe this shit. He was the one person I trusted. And you. I know we had our problems, but why would you do this to me? If I wanted to be in the damn movie, I’d be in the damn movie.”

  She stepped closer and placed her hand on my forearm. “Baby, don’t get mad. Rick was trying to take your career to a new level. He had your best interests at heart. We all do.” She tapped me on the chest, where it was pounding t
he hardest.

  “I can’t fucking believe this.”

  “Ben, what I did in Hawaii was the biggest mistake of my life. I swear—”

  “It’s time you go.” I stepped back. I didn’t need another apology. I didn’t give a shit how sorry she was. I wasn’t going back to that place. I’d moved on.

  “But—we haven’t figured out how to get all the endorsements we need. Don’t you want to take me out on the beach? Maybe go for a swim? Like we did in Acapulco?”

  “You heard him. He told you it’s time to leave.” The voice was husky. I turned to see Alice in her favorite leopard bikini.

  Rebecca looked at me and then at Alice. “And you are?”

  “I’m his friend and his neighbor. We don’t like strangers around here. So I suggest you pack your little designer purse and take your tight little ass out of here.” Alice was now in Sand Dollar’s yard.

  Rebecca huffed. “You’re interrupting a private conversation.”

  Alice looked at me.

  “I think you heard my friend, Becs. It’s time you go.”

  “We aren’t done talking, Ben. I’ll call you later.” She reached down and pulled her bag from the chair.

  “Oh, we’re done, Rebecca. Very done.” I gritted my teeth.

  I watched as she climbed into her car and steered out of the campground.

  “Thanks, Alice. Didn’t know I needed rescuing.” I laughed. It felt odd at a time like this.

  “Well, I can’t very well have my movie star neighbor upset, can I?” She winked.

  “Wait. Did you know?” I looked at her.

  “Of course I knew. I’ve seen every one of your movies—some of them three times.”

  “But you never said anything.” I was stunned.

  “I figured if you wanted us to call you Ben, you wouldn’t have introduced yourself as Jake.” She picked up her beach bucket.

  “Alice, I hate to ask, but did you tell anyone?” I winced.

  “Honey, your secret has been safe with me since you moved into Silver Sand Dollar on day one. Flora and Carl too.”

  “What?” I felt like I was living in the plot twist of a movie.

  She laughed at my surprise. “You didn’t think the biggest star in the world could just waltz in here without as much as one person knowing? Flora has one of your calendars. Maybe you could sign it for her.” She waved. “Going for my walk. See you later, baby. If you want to come over for a beer later, I’ve still got your favorite.”

  I watched her sashay toward the beach. “Hey, Alice?”

  She turned in the sand. “Yeah?”

  “How about five o’clock?” Suddenly, I realized what a friend I had in my cougar neighbor.

  “See you then.”

  I walked into the Sand Dollar. Now I knew Rebecca’s angle, Rick’s level of greed, and that friends were sometimes disguised in leopard print. I ran my fingers through my hair. But how was I going to fix the rest of this mess? Chelsea. I had to get to Chelsea.

  Thirty-Six

  Chelsea

  “They’ve been sitting by the mailbox for two days.” My mom looked out the kitchen window toward the cove. “What’s so interesting about my tomatoes?” She laughed and sat next to me.

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with your tomatoes, Mom, and everything to do with me.” I sighed as she refilled a tall glass of ice tea. It was too hot for anything else.

  “Your father did say that the store is doing really well. All of these reporters have stocked up on souvenirs. It’s like they’ve never been to the beach before.”

  We both looked at the three guys sitting across the street from my parents’ driveway. They were equipped with cameras, sandwiches, and bottled water.

  My mother continued, “You know, I would have gladly driven over to the McIntire’s to see you. You didn’t need to come over.”

  “I couldn’t stay cooped up any longer. Besides, Derek is hovering.”

  “But didn’t Ben want you to stay put?” She looked at me.

  It was strange how everyone was so comfortable using his new name. It was Jake. His name used to be Jake. “He doesn’t dictate what I do. If I want to see my mother, I’m going to see my mother.” I huffed, realizing I had reverted to my teenage rebellion voice.

  “Of course, honey, but he knows this stuff much better than we do. He’s used to all the cameras and the questions. Maybe you should listen to him.”

  “I’m not interested in what he has to say.” I also wasn’t interested in listening to anyone defending him. “Do you mind if I check my email?”

  “Oh, sure. Use Dad’s computer in the study. I’ll start on some lunch for us.” She cleared the ice tea pitcher and placed it in the refrigerator. “Dad should be here in thirty minutes or so.”

  “Thanks.” I watched my mother bustling through the kitchen, setting out the preparations for her homemade chicken salad. She looked content, calm, and most of all happy. She was making lunch for her daughter and hard-working husband, oblivious to the lies their relationship was built upon.

  I turned for the study, pushing the parallels my mind was drawing between myself and my mother out of my mind.

  When I awakened for the second morning at the beach house, I remembered the email Brandon Edwards was supposed to send. Since the paparazzi invasion, I hadn’t checked my email once If there was a contract, I needed to print it out and read through it. Nothing was certain anymore. I didn’t know if I would sign, if I wanted it, or if any of it was real. I knew that regardless of Ben, I did want to write music again. I couldn’t start that by burning a bridge with Blue Steel Records. Brandon would need an answer.

  I hit print on the document and waited for the pages to feed through my father’s printer. They landed lightly in my hands as I watched the twenty-page document materialize.

  “Oh, hi, sweetheart. Mom told me you were in here.” My father stood in the doorway of his study. “How are you holding up?”

  I sighed. “Ok. I guess.” I shuffled the edge of the contract against the desk, evening up the edges.

  “What do you have there?” He pointed at the document.

  I knew my father wouldn’t understand much less support an endeavor with the recording company. He always pointed out what a waste of time it was spending days off writing music. Suddenly, I felt reckless. I felt the need to push back.

  “It’s a contract with a company in Austin. They want to buy three of my songs and hire me as a full-time writer.” It was the slap I had wanted to deliver to him for months.

  Taking his time, he walked to the leather recliner in the corner of his office and lowered into the seat. “Is that right?”

  “Yes, and Quinn Jansen wants to record them.” That was the best part, but my father wouldn’t even know who Quinn Jansen was until her songs landed on the adult contemporary station.

  He rubbed the armrests of the chair as if that would help him digest the information. “And you’re going to sign the contract and move to Austin?” He didn’t sound angry.

  I was confused. Why wasn’t he angry? Why wasn’t he annoyed that I was trying to leave?

  “I’m thinking about it. I haven’t even read it yet.” I held up the pages.

  “And how much of this has to do with the guy?”

  I lowered my eyes. I was slightly relieved he hadn’t given him a name, even though we both knew which guy. The contract had everything and nothing to do with him. I wrote the songs, they were mine, and I knew Quinn Jansen wouldn’t record something if she didn’t love it. However, the demon on my other shoulder told me it was all smoke and mirrors. The only reason that contract was in my hand was because Ben called in a favor with a football buddy. Maybe Quinn was all part of the plot to reel me in farther.

  I wiped at my eyes. My father could not see me cry. “I don’t know. I don’t know if any of it is real.” There. I said the words out loud that I had slammed behind a trap door.

  “Let me take a look.” He motioned toward my hand.
“I’ll look it over.” He reached in his front pocket and slid his reading glasses over his nose.

  I handed him the Blue Steel contract and slumped into the seat.

  “Hand me my pen. Top drawer.”

  I searched the desk for the blue ink pen monogrammed with Hayden Davis and passed it to him.

  He circled something on the first page, flipped a few pages, and made an X. I stretched toward him, trying to identify the parts of the verbiage he was marking.

  After fifteen minutes, he stacked his glasses on his head. “All right, so it looks like a pretty good deal, but I’ve made some notes for you. The first is that you should have a base salary, and then a stipend for each song you produce instead of paid per song. I don’t want you in Austin without steady income in your pocket. That’s just too damn stressful.”

  My eyes widened like saucers. “Wh-what?”

  “And then, I marked on here where you need to have full control over the artists who perform your songs. It’s your music. You get to decide. Anything less than that and I don’t think you’d be happy.”

  He handed me the contract.

  “But—you’re ok with this?” I looked at the pages in my hand with my father’s notes scribbled in the margins. “Where is the lecture?”

  “Your mother and I talked.” He sighed. “Ok, your mother talked and I listened. But I heard her point. She’s right. She always is.” He chuckled. “I know you’re not happy at the store. You’ve never been happy at the store. So, maybe you can go do this and work it out so you spend summers at home or travel back and forth. Or maybe in a few years, after you have number one hits out there, you’ll come back to the island and retire so you can be the music teacher at the school.” He smiled at me. “This is the time in your life to figure those things out. Chelsea, I didn’t get that chance. Your grandfather had me training and working in the store. It was a given that it would be mine one day. I don’t know if there is something else I could have done or been good at doing.” He paused, heavy with words. I had never heard my father speak like this before. “This is what your gift is. And we—um—I’m not going to stop you.” I thought his eyes looked misty. “It’s a legitimate contract. I think you should get those changes made and sign it.”