by Leigh Morgan
Ben reclined on the pull out couch in Rhia’s study wondering just how long he’d be holed up in this house, forced to sleep next to the most beautiful, self-centered and deceitful bitch he’d ever had the misfortune to meet.
The fact that he was beginning to like her really pissed him off. He’d run her through every record check and back door channel available to him, both legal and quasi-legal. What he found out about Becca confounded him even more.
What Ben knew about super models until yesterday was what everybody knew; they were vain, self-serving and in person they were ungodly thin. Today he knew something more. Ben knew at least one of them, the most beautiful one from his point of view, had a heart.
Becca Stonehaven was vain, no doubt about that. She was used to people falling all over themselves to give her what she wanted, but she was also a philanthropist. She didn’t do quite the work that Ramsey did, but she made a difference nonetheless.
Ramsey used who he was on the outside to help people, to draw attention to areas where there was human need and no one seemed to care.
Becca didn’t use her superstardom that way. Maybe she was embarrassed, or maybe she just didn’t want anyone to know there was more to her than diamonds and silk. Down deep she and Ram had more in common than either of them knew or let the world see. Ben knew they were both so damn afraid of rejection that they set out to sabotage anything real in their lives before it could hurt them or look too deep and find them wanting.
Becca used her money, but quietly. Her passion seemed to be with the old. She visited the Alzheimer units of two nursing homes in Tennessee. It took some tracking and a hell of a lot of leg work on the part of Ben’s staff, but he’d finally got some print of ‘Becky Stone’ taking oranges to Sleepy Meadows Care Center.
God, he wanted to hate her. She was all those things he’d mentally listed and seriously detested, and yet she was more. How much more, and did he care enough to find out, were the real questions he needed to answer. That he was even asking questions about Becca had him worried.
Ben was flipping through the channels when Becca strolled in, wet from her shower, wrapped from neck to toe in the ugliest lime green robe he’d ever seen. The pink bunny slippers really set off the outfit.
She plunked down on the pullout bed next to him and raised her feet, eyeing the slippers with an ironic smile. “Apparently Ram’s wife has a sense of humor.”
When she was unguarded like this, or really angry, as she had been when he wrapped her in the bed sheet and threw her into his truck, Becca lost her perfectly cultured tone. Every word was still deep and sultry, but longer and softer, washing over him like only a true hill accent could. Ben tried but failed to remain unaffected.
“That, and a good right hook.” Ben added.
He liked her face better this way, without make-up and too much eye liner. Becca wasn’t as striking without her war paint, but she was more beautiful and more vulnerable.
Becca winced and rubbed her purpling jaw line. “Yea, she’s not bad, but I told her she hits like a girl” Becca’s brown eyes danced with mirth. “You know what Rhia told me?”
Ben couldn’t help smiling back. “What.”
“She said that was fine because it was Hunter who taught her how to throw a punch. Hunter made her mom learn some basic self defense. Hunter told me I was lucky her mom didn’t kick me instead. Apparently she’s better at that. She must not have been that mad.” Becca grinned at him and Ben felt it like a physical blow.
Becca’s name on the news interrupted Ben’s response.
“And tonight Jack we have footage of super model Becca Stonehaven and rock musician Ramsey Macleod’s new wife in what appears to be a cat fight.” The co-anchor for one of the national entertainment T.V. shows smiled and shook his head at the camera, clearly indicating he was above such petty displays of emotion.
“Well Dave it looks like a cat strike to me, but that’s not what the lovely Ms. Stonehaven and Purple Orchid lead man, Ramsey Macleod, had to say at their press conference this afternoon. It was all a joke they said. They were playing to the cameras. Ms. Stonehaven said she and Ram are ‘good friends’ and they were just having fun at our expense. They were here celebrating Ramsey’s marriage to college professor, Rhiannon Thorson who divorced Milwaukee attorney William Wainwright less than a year ago.”
Dave was smiling at the cameras again winking his disbelief. “Well it’s a mystery how a college professor and a rock star almost twelve years younger meet, much less marry, Jack. If fans want to believe that fight we saw wasn’t real then maybe Ms. Stonehaven has an acting career in her future.”
Ben flipped off the T.V. disgusted with all the innuendo even though he knew everything they suspected was actually true. Ben tossed the remote on the floor and looked at Becca.
“Goddamn vultures.” Ben said as much to himself as to Becca.
“Without those vultures, where would I be? I would never have gotten that Sports Illustrated cover if it weren’t for one motivated photographer who made sure I was in the tabloids as often as possible. It’s a trade off. They give us press, and in return we need to give them a shot not every other Joe with a camera can get. I’ve never really minded the publicity, or the lack of privacy before, but then it never affected a non-celebrity family before. I didn’t really mean to mess with that...you know?”
Ben knew that was probably true. He’d regaled her with what Rhia could expect from her little picture stunt, and Becca had been genuinely remorseful by the time they’d reached southern Illinois. Even so, Ben hadn’t let up on her. He wanted to draw blood, he wanted to hurt her, and he had. Now she looked exhausted.
“You did well this afternoon.” He admitted.
“Yea well, the press didn’t seem to buy it. I guess I don’t have a future in acting after all.” Becca stifled a yawn and winced in pain.
Ben ran the back of his fingers softly across her injured jaw. “Poor little rich girl. Maybe if you’d been hit before you’d be better at blocking.”
Something changed in Becca’s eyes. She wasn’t laughing at herself anymore. She wasn’t angry either. There was simply a kind of deadness that came over her like a big black cloak, leaving her even less open, and yet somehow more vulnerable.
Damn.
He was usually better at reading people.
Becca reached up and pulled a bridge out from her lower jaw. “I’ve taken enough punches to know how to block. I simply chose not too. I deserved this one. So I took it. Believe me, I’m damn good at swallowing blood and pretending I’m okay.”
Ben felt the thick layer of ice around his heart crack with Becca’s quietly uttered words. But, it was the sad smile on her face that began to melt his heart.
“At least I used to be.”
Becca fitted the bridge back in place as best as she could. “I’d appreciate it if you could take me to a good dentist in the morning. Rhia may hit like a girl, but it was enough to loosen nine thousand dollars worth of dental work.”
Ben pulled Becca to him and she didn’t resist. He tucked her head under his chin, careful not to bump her jaw, and brought the quilt up over them. Then he did something he swore he wouldn’t do, he kissed the top of her head. “I’ll find a dentist. Go to sleep Becky. No one’s going to hurt you tonight.”
Or ever again.
Becca didn’t mind Ben’s use of her childhood name. It didn’t sound silly or little-girlish coming from Ben, it sounded...well...it sounded...
Safe.
...
The papers were served the next morning. William didn’t even bother to call to let Rhia know he was petitioning the Court to change placement of their children.
“Are you Rhiannon Wainwright?” The cold eyed man at the door asked. His delivery was monotone, but no less menacing for that.
Rhia knew enough about process servers to know how this man was employed. If his demeanor wasn’t enough, the manila envelope in his hand confirmed what she already knew. She was being sued.
Becca swore she wasn’t going to press charges. How did she do it so quickly? And from my house. Just when I was beginning to like her.
Then it hit her. Becca wouldn’t have used ‘Wainwright’, she would have used Macleod.
“My name’s Rhiannon Macleod.” Rhia answered stiffly, cold politeness oozing from every pore.
Ram heard Rhia use his name without adding the ‘Thorson’ which she did every time she knew he was within ear shot, just to piss him off. That, and her tone told him something was very wrong.
The man at the door didn’t miss a beat. “He said you may be using that name, so let me be clear. Is your maiden name ‘Thorson’? Were you also known as Rhiannon Wainwright during your marriage to William Wainwright?”
“You have the right person. I’ll sign for whatever you have.” Rhia’s shoulders straightened. She was not going to let this cretin know she was shaking inside.
Rhia didn’t hear him approach, but Ram’s arm around her waist was very welcome. “What can we do for you?” Ram asked the process server, his tone as polite as Rhia’s had been.
Ram had been served so many times he knew the drill. He’d learned the hard way that it was best to be polite and dismissive. These people were almost as bad as reporters. Inevitably, they reported to their employers every reaction, every nuance of body language that could be construed as anger, frustration, pain, etc. Often they testified in court as well and it never paid to have one of these guys say you were uncooperative.
The man cocked his head and held Ram’s gaze without saying a word. Then he turned back to Rhia, dismissing Ram in an obvious attempt to get a rise out of him.
Not today partner. Better men have tried and failed, you sorry piece of shit.
Ram smiled at the man and blew him a kiss. Two could play at this game, and Ram was willing to bet he was at least as experienced as the man on the other side of the screen, two feet lower than where he and Rhia stood. It didn’t hurt that Ram was looking down at the man.
“No need to sign Mrs. Wainwright.” The man opened the door and handed the envelope to Rhia. She took it. “You have been served.”
Ram would have sworn it wasn’t possible, but his petite bride stood even taller. “If you wish to do your job properly Sir, and I have no doubt you do, then you should make sure you have served the correct person. You wouldn’t want to sign an affidavit indicating you served a person who doesn’t exist would you? Of course it’s up to you, but legally you cannot serve someone who doesn’t exist. Maybe that little technicality doesn’t matter to your employer. I’m sure when I contest service...and I will by the way...your employer will have to re-file because you refused to use my name...” Rhia let her sentence trail off as she shrugged theatrically.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure your employer won’t mind the fourteen or so days that will be wasted by your incompetence. I’m sure you’ll get my name right the next time.” Rhia smiled and began to shut the door. “See you in two weeks.”
The man’s voice rang crisp and clear. “Rhiannon Macleod, you have been served.”
Rhia’s smile was beatific when she opened the door and smiled at the man like he was a dog who just learned how to sit. She did everything but pat his head. “So I have. Have a good day and give my regards to your employer. I look forward to seeing him in court.”
This time she shut the door all the way. She did it slowly and quietly, never letting on that her hand was as shaky as her smile.
Ram pulled her to him and kissed her tenderly. “You’re such a badass. Don’t ever smile that ‘good puppy’ smile at me...please.” Ram shuddered for effect. “I’d rather have you screaming at me than have you be so damned polite. Poor guy didn’t know how to deal with that.”
“He used my married name Ram, my first married name.”
Rhia’s dejected tone made a chill of apprehension run through him. “So?”
Rhia looked up at him and the tears in her turquoise eyes knifed through his heart. She didn’t let them fall, but there was no mistaking how shaken she was.
“These” she said waving the manila envelope “are from William. He’s the only one I know who could get papers filed this quickly.” Rhia could tell that Ram wasn’t understanding, but he was waiting silently for her to continue. He didn’t push, and the compassion in his eyes made her want to cry.
“Hunter’s nineteen. Custody and placement orders no longer affect her...but...oh God...Ram...he’s trying to take Ethan away from me.”
Ram brought her to him again and held her tight. He kissed the top of her head and let her cry.
Over my dead body Wainwright.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“It’s an ex-parte order granting me custody and placement of Ethan. I want him now.” William pushed through Rhia’s door and starting calling for his son. “That’s an emergency order Rhia. It means Ethan comes with me until our next court date.”
“I know what an ex-parte order is William. Unlike you, I actually listened during our marriage.” Rhia tried to control her heartbeat, it was no use. She had a feeling he’d try something back handed like this.
William ignored her and kept moving through the house he still treated as his own. “Ethan. Hunter. Come on kids, pack your stuff. We’re leaving.”
“Hunter’s nineteen, William. This order doesn’t cover her.”
William headed up the stairs searching for Ethan. “I know that. I’m taking them both to Hawaii for a vacation.” William sneered at his ex-wife. “Candi wants them with us for our second honeymoon. Ethan? Where the hell is that kid?”
Rhia stopped cold. William hadn’t so much as gone on an extended weekend with her and the kids during the last decade, much less a family vacation.
“A second honeymoon? You’ve been married less than three months.” Rhia couldn’t help the acid that seeped into her tone.
William sneered again. It wasn’t pretty. Rhia didn’t remember him being so vitriolic during their marriage, but by the end she had learned how to ignore him. That wasn’t hard considering William was rarely there. Rhia was thankful she’d gotten out when she did, at least now she had a shot at happiness
“Some things are worth making time for.”
Rhia didn’t miss his implication. It simply didn’t hurt anymore that he’d put his family last on his list of priorities all those years. Not much anyway. What hurt, was the fact that she’d wasted so much time waiting for William to give a damn because it was easier than starting over. That wasn’t his fault, it was hers. But she’d be damned if she’d put up with his nastiness.
“They’re not here William.”
“Where the hell are they?”
“Ram took them to see the new super hero movie.” Rhia couldn’t help throwing a little mud of her own. “Ram co-wrote the theme song.” One thing William hated above anything else was younger men who made more money than he did, it left him feeling inadequate. He was one of those good-old-boys for whom status and money were a man’s defining characteristics.
William tossed the custody and placement order on Ethan’s bed. “I want him no later than eight tomorrow morning Rhia, or I’ll file a motion for contempt. You and your boyfriend will go to jail. It’ll probably help his career, but it’ll kill what’s left of yours.”
“When did you get so bitter? How do you think Ethan’s going to take this? He has less than five months before he graduates. He’s going to be eighteen William. That order won’t mean anything then.” Rhia said following her ex-husband down the stairs. “And Ram’s my husband, not my boyfriend. I wasn’t the one who had ‘friends’ during our marriage, and you know it.” William ignored her and kept walking.
“Have you even talked to Ethan about this, or did you just fly off half cocked? What if Ethan doesn’t want to live with you?”
“That choice flew out the window when pictures of you dancing topless on table tops were shown on national T.V.” William didn’t bother to look back as he made his way to the door.
“I was not topless.” In point of fact she’d been wearing a leather bra, a small one to be sure, but she hadn’t been topless.
“You are forty years old. Too old to be clubbing with teenagers.”
She wasn’t forty yet and Ram was far from a teenager, but Rhia didn’t bother to correct him. She knew when to pick her battles and this wasn’t one of them.
William turned abruptly and Rhia almost ran into him. He used his height and his proximity like a weapon. “You were a respectable woman. A history professor at a private girl’s school for goodness sake. What the hell happened to you Rhia?...You hit a woman...hell...you’re all over the front page of The Journal/Sentinel. What kind of mother are you?” He spat.
Rhia felt her face flame. Dancing was one thing, hitting another human being no matter how much they deserved it was quite another. “That was between me and Becca. It was a one time thing and even she didn’t take it seriously. William you know damn well that I was the one who raised our kids. I was the one who did the homework...got them to their activities. I’ve been here. You never were.” Rhia felt tears of frustration and remembrance threaten. She didn’t let them fall.
“Tell it to the judge, Rhia. I want both Hunter and Ethan at my door by eight. Eight, Rhia. Or so help me God, I will have your ass thrown in jail.” William slammed out, leaving tire marks on her driveway as he squealed the tires of his new Lexus.
...
“Your mother tells me you got accepted to MIT. That you’re starting after the first of the year?” Ram wanted to know more about Rhia’s children. It was hard when they were so guarded. Actually, Ethan was guarded, Hunter wasn’t. That girl spoke her opinion on everything, and she seemed to have a lot of opinions.
Ethan wasn’t answering. So much for the open-ended questions, Ram thought. “What will you be studying?” He asked.
Respond. Come on kid, you can do it. One, maybe two words. Can’t you see I’m trying here?