Elli (A Second Chance Novel Book 1) Read online

That hurt, but Elli would never let him know it did. If he knew, then he would also know that she cared about him enough that he could hurt her. The people the foundation helped needed her not to get emotional. “So you think it’s fair that I just walk away from here even though I own as much of this place as you do?

  “Yes. I think that’s fair.” He looked at Elli. “You managed fine before you knew you owned half of Sugar Mill. You will manage fine when you walk away from it.”

  “Maybe,” she admitted. “Maybe not. I do know that walking away right now isn’t possible.” Elli paused to consider if she should tell him about the important work of the foundation and how the money that funded it was stolen. Would he care? Was it fair to tell him about it? Did she have the right to try to guilt him into action, because her skills of persuasion were sub-par? Should there be full disclosure? “Ben…”

  “Elli, let me be clear,” he interrupted, keeping her from deciding if she should tell him now. “I don’t want to change the way things are for Joey and me.” He turned in his seat to look at her. “That’s it. No further discussion. Time to go home. It’s late. The temperature is dropping. Tante Izzy is spending the night at the house because she didn’t want to miss anything with the filming. And you know she’ll be waiting up to get the news on why BJ was so upset.”

  Elli nodded. “For the record, the subject is not closed. There must be further discussion.” She pulled Jenny’s leash from under her leg. “We’ll save that for another day.” A day that had to be sooner rather than later. She didn’t have the luxury of putting it off. “For now,” she continued, turning to untangle the leash, “you have to tell me how in the world are we going to explain why we are coming into the house shirtless?”

  “You’ll just walk in and pretend you are clothed like the Emperor in his new robes. She won’t notice you aren’t.”

  “Yeah, right. That’ll fly with Tante Izzy.” Elli turned to face him. “Hey, what about you?”

  “I’ll be pulling your car out of the ditch with my truck.”

  “I’ll be helping you. I’ll call her cell and tell her what happened, minus the wildfire.”

  She climbed out of the car, and Ben stood. He pulled her tight against him. “You really piss me off, you know.” Then, he kissed her with so much passion she thought they would strip off what little clothes they wore and make love on the hood of her Mercedes. But he ended the kiss, tracing her lips with his tongue before pressing his forehead to hers. “Cher, for the record. I really am glad you beat breast cancer. I’m happy you are alive in this world. I just the hell wish you had never come into mine.”

  “Agreed.”

  Chapter Ten

  Did you know that you would be graffitied when you were being prepped for radiation treatment? I’m told some centers use small dots, but my rad techs used red and blue permanent markers to trace the lines cast by the radiation machine across my chest and up my neck to mark the treatment field. It was surreal. I hardly felt the warm friction of ink gliding over my clean skin nor smelled the sharp, distinctive scent of ink drying. It was as if someone else was having a strange man draw on her chest with markers much like a recalcitrant three-year-old might draw on a bedroom wall. It was too impersonal, too lacking in humanity to be real. This wasn’t supposed to be happening to me. I wasn’t supposed to be here. Other people got cancer. They had surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation…not me. Why in the heck didn’t they use GPS? I wish you good health, E.

  Bosom Blog Buddies Post

  The next day of filming got off to an early start, just as the director wanted. Sam Cooper and Heather Harley arrived on time in a limo from the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, which was an hour away in New Orleans. Crew members, who stayed in a more economical hotel near the New Orleans Airport, arrived an hour ahead of them to set up for the day’s work. Even though they had worked twelve hours the day before and had gotten little sleep, Sam and Heather looked beautiful, alert, and perfect. He was a chiseled, masculine version of Ken, and she was a pinup-girl version of Barbie.

  At seven a.m., Heather had a break from filming and sat on the back steps of the plantation house to smoke a cigarette. She was in costume—paint-splattered jeans, shredded at the knees, and indigo, tie-dyed T-shirt. She looked like the eccentric artist she played, but in a way that would not disappoint her fans. Her jeans were like a second skin over her trademark bottom and long dancer’s legs. Her T-shirt’s neckline was scooped low to highlight her pin-up girl breasts. Heather’s bright blond hair was restrained in a single braid that hung down her back to her hips. The costume designer had nailed it down to her bare feet.

  Elli looked at the pressed jeans, cornflower blue cashmere cardigan over a crisp white T-shirt that she wore. She, too had nailed her costume down to her Stuart Weitzman loafers. She looked like the character she played—the practical, sophisticated businesswoman working on a movie set. However, it lacked any of Elli’s personality and essence. It was one-dimensional, she thought, looking at Heather. Was that because she was a one-dimensional woman?

  Elli shook her head. Why in the world was she thinking such things? She should be thinking of this golden opportunity to speak to Heather casually about investing in Sugar Mill. She started walking toward the starlet when the back door opened and Ben walked out. His smile was big, warm, and immediate. He said something to Heather, making her laugh, and she patted the concrete step next to her for Ben to sit. She tilted her head and gave him one of the smoky looks that made her the favorite arm candy for dozens of Hollywood’s A-listers. Elli stopped in her tracks, looking down at her shoes. Why in the world had she worn boring loafers?

  “Elli?” She felt a tap on her shoulder before her brain registered that someone had said her name. “You look a million miles away.”

  “Hi, Rachel.” She turned her back to Heather and Ben. Rachel obviously noticed them and raised her eyebrows.

  “OMG. What’s up with that?”

  Elli shrugged. “You needed me?”

  “Yes. I thought I’d warn you. My mom is on her way over here. She’s with Tante Izzy. She made gumbo and potato salad and they are bringing it over.” Rachel frowned. “I tried to stop them, but, well…you know how they are.”

  Elli glanced over her shoulder and was sorry she had. Heather had just handed Ben her lighter and was now leaning into him so he could light the cigarette cinched between her perfect collagen lips. Elli’s heart constricted and her stomach fisted. She swallowed past the tightness in her throat and looked at Rachel. “Well, it is what it is,” she said, thinking about the Cajun Dog Whisperer and Goddess Queen, but intending for Rachel to think she was talking about the Cajun Fireball and Relentless Redhead. She forced a smile. “Can you help keep them under control?”

  “Ben and Harley?” She grunted. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. They look cozy on the stoop, but I don’t see any sparks sizzling off of them.”

  Elli smiled and looked at the scene on the steps. Maybe, Rachel was right about the sizzle, but to her, they looked happy to share the same space. “Uh, I was talking about keeping Tante Izzy and Ruby under control,” she said when she felt Rachel staring at her.

  “I doubt it.” Rachel sighed. “I’ll give it the ole college try.” Elli gave her a quick hug. “Don’t look now, but here they come. Mom and Tante Izzy have two of the runners carrying the food for them.”

  “Elli. Elli. Allons.” Tante Izzy shouted. “I got you somethin’ from the Traiteur.”

  Elli and Rachel headed toward Tante Izzy, moving away from where Ben was sitting with Heather. Elli made sure she didn’t look at them, but Tante Izzy had and jabbed her hands onto her hips.

  “Harrumph. What’s up with dat?” she asked when they reached her. “I don’t like it one bit.”

  “Don’t like what?” Ruby asked, walking up to join them. “Oh,” she said, following the direction Tante Izzy was looking. Heather and Ben were laughing as they sat in a wraithlike cloud of cigarette smoke. They could’ve been on a fog-covere
d runway in Casablanca with how dramatic the scene looked.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Rachel said in a rush.

  “Youz call smoking cigarettes ‘nothin’?” Tante Izzy frowned. “It’s bad for youz health.” She pointed her crooked finger at Rachel. “I better never catch youz smokin’, young lady.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Wow,” Ruby said, her hand over her mouth, obviously star struck. “She’s a little thing. She’s every bit as gorgeous as she appears in the tabloids, but half the size I thought she’d be. Hmmm,” she said, craning her neck. “Do you think she’s approachable? By the way she’s smiling at Ben, I bet she is.”

  “Mom, I warned you to stay away from the stars.” Rachel narrowed her eyes. “You mustn’t be disruptive. This is a job site. People work here.”

  “It don’t look like Heather is working to me.” She reached into her vinyl red purse hanging over her shoulder. “Here. Autograph this before I forget for a third time.” She handed Elli the People magazine. “Right there, under your picture, which is really pretty by the way. I like that sparkly headband you are wearing. Is it real diamonds?” She handed Elli a felt pen and didn’t wait for her to answer. “You know, all I want to do is ask Heather one question. It will take no more than two minutes.”

  Elli quickly signed the magazine and handed it back to Ruby. She was glad the attention was off of her again and wanted to keep it that way. “I’ll introduce you to her.”

  “I’m comin’, too.” Tante Izzy said, sounding angry. She sure hoped it was over Ruby’s insisting on meeting Heather and not the star’s smoking habit. If it was the latter, this meeting could get ugly. She’d bet no one ever told Heather Harley what to do.

  The four of them marched over. As soon as Ben spotted them, he rested his elbows on his knees and shook his head. “Prepare yourself, Heather.”

  “What?” she asked, turning to look at the four ladies approaching.

  All four of them spoke at the same time.

  “Heather, I’d like to introduce you to Ruby…”

  “Heather, I’m Ruby Bienvenu. Do you want to be our guest of honor for our Prevent Forest Fires fundraiser?”

  “Oh my God, Heather, please excuse my rude mother.”

  “Don’t youz know smokin’ will turn youz teeth yellow, youz face gray, and youz lungs black?”

  Heather just stared at the women as their simultaneous chattering turned into a heated discussion with one another over who should talk to her first. Ben leaned back, and smiled.

  “Do something,” Elli shouted to him. “They’re your relatives.”

  Rachel grabbed her mother’s arm, but she would have had to clamp her hand over her mouth to stop her from talking. “Heather,” Ruby said with a huge force of breath. She paused to paste a forced smile on her face. “Hi. I’m Ruby Bienvenu.” She extended her hand and Heather shook it. “I made potato salad.”

  Heather looked at Elli to explain what that meant.

  “For lunch. I think that was an invitation for lunch.” Elli shrugged. “There’s also gumbo.”

  “She made dat with two chickens from my yard.” Tante Izzy nodded, then looked at the cigarette nestled between Heather’s fingers. “It turns youz fingernails brown, too.”

  “I’m having a fundraiser,” Ruby rushed on. “We’d like you to be guest of honor.” Heather continued to stare at her. “We’ll have it as soon as Lent is over. We wanted to have it before, but Ash Wednesday is in a couple of days and there’s no time to get everything ready.” She took a step closer to Heather, and the buxom star sat up, looking like she wanted to bolt. “Can you come to the fundraiser?”

  “Elli, is this for your foundation?” she asked, looking at her with suspicion. “You know, I was advised by my accountants to stay away from your foundation for a couple of years or”—she lowered her voice—“or forever.”

  “That’s terrible,” Rachel gushed. “I’m sure she has a wonderful foundation.”

  Heather raised a brow and looked at Elli. She was allowing her to tell them about its troubles. Elli didn’t want to. She didn’t want it said by anyone. She didn’t want to hear the truth spoken aloud. She didn’t want these people she liked to know she had bungled taking care of people she promised to help. She didn’t want Ben to think she was a bad businesswoman. She prayed for the dark Louisiana earth to grab her Stuart Weitzman loafers and suck her into the muddy abyss.

  “I don’t need you for her foundation,” Ruby said, moving closer to Elli. “We’ll be working to help her fix that later. Your accountants will be changing their mind about that forever comment.” Ruby slid her arm through Elli’s, and Elli’s throat tightened with tears at this woman’s show of support. She hadn’t expected it. Rachel sidled up on the other side of Elli and locked arms with her, too.

  “What do accountants know,” Tante Izzy said with a nod. Elli felt the tears burn her eyes and fought not to cry.

  “I’m paying them a lot to know a lot,” Heather said, taking a drag from her cigarette. “Dealing with my credit card companies and the bank since Elli’s Griffith Park fiasco has been a nightmare for them and my assistant.”

  “Ms. Harley, my fundraiser is to raise money for education to prevent forest fires.” Ruby’s voice was clear, and she was carefully speaking slowly to temper her rhythmic Cajun accent. “Forest fires are a recent problem here in Cane. In fact, we saw evidence of a fire right on the road leading to the plantation house. It was so close to this beautiful home. Can you imagine if it had reached this historical place?” She shook her head. “We want to nip it in the butt before it is out of control.”

  Heather looked at Elli as if she wanted to say something mean about preventing forest fires in wet, swampy, rainy Louisiana. They were saved from that when the back door flew open and hit Ben in the back. Loud barking ensued in every tone imaginable and Elli saw that her dogs had arrived right on cue.

  “Sorry, Dad,” Joey said with a giggle. The dogs wedged their way through the door, knocking into Heather. Doe stood at the threshold and growled. It was a serious, scary growl. It was how she had growled at Doug the night before and at the cottage before it went up in flames. It was a growl with a purpose. Then, she started barking a vicious, angry bark.

  Heather jumped up, took a drag of her cigarette, and shouted at Joey as she exhaled a puff of smoke. “Control that animal.”

  Doe lunged toward Heather in a blur of teeth and fur, but Ben grabbed the possessed animal by its collar and turned her away from one of Hollywood’s most flawless faces. Elli’s reaction was a beat behind Ben’s. She threw herself between Doe and Heather, making herself a human shield. It had been unnecessary, she realized as her hip slammed hard into the steps just as the door slammed behind Ben, who secured Doe inside the house.

  “Ouch,” Heather cried as Elli’s elbow stabbed her in the back from her ungraceful dive. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Fracturing my hip,” Elli said as she watched her saner dogs turn away from the drama on the stairs, running in circles, sniffing the ground, and doing happy dog things. Donna, however, high-stepped over to where Heather was sitting on the steps doing back stretching things to alleviate the blow from Elli. With a gentle whimper, the doggie diva sat at the starlet’s feet and looked up at her in what Elli could only describe as admiration. No doubt about it, Donna considered Heather a goddess like herself.

  Heather spotted Donna and tossed her cigarette off to the side in the grass. Ruby rushed to stamp it out as Heather kneeled next to Donna. The cute ball of fluff raised a tiny, perfect paw with designer nail polish and tapped the megawatt star her on the thigh. Heather ran her finger under Donna’s collar. “Is that Gucci?” Donna barked a happy bark. Jenny and BJ rushed over to Donna, sniffed her, and finding nothing interesting, ran toward the food tent.

  “I’ll get them,” Joey shouted, running after the dogs.

  “I almost wish your dog would have bitten Heather,” Rachel whispered to Elli as she helped
her off the steps. “She’s annoying.”

  Ruby looked at Elli. “I have some ideas how to save your foundation,” she said, folding her arms over her chest, the magazine wedged beneath them.

  “I didn’t know you knew.”

  “I am a subscriber of the National Enquirer and People. I read it cover to cover,” she huffed and sidled next to Heather. She spoke to the star a moment, then Ruby called to Elli. “You don’t mind if we borrow your dog for a while? The nice one here, not the other demon dog.”

  “Her name is Donna. Bella Donna.” Elli nodded. She was so grateful Ruby and the world wouldn’t be reading an article in the National Enquirer about how the producer of the sweet dog movie, Newfie, had a pet dog that ripped the face off of Hollywood Beauty, Heather Harley. “Keep Donna as long as you want.”

  “We will.” Ruby waved her fingers in farewell. “See you tomorrow for the parade.”

  “That’s tomorrow?” Elli asked Ruby.

  “Yep. Get a good night’s sleep, it’ll be a long fun day.”

  Tante Izzy continued to watch Ruby and Heather’s departing backs when she spoke. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what just happened.” She frowned. “From nowheres, youz dog went rabid, youz throwed youzself in the air like youz were divin’ into a swimmin’ pool…only there wasn’t any water around. Then, Ruby walks off with dat movie star and your fancy dog.” She twisted her thin lips and narrowed her eyes. “Yep. I’m definitely confused. I jest know one thing. I didn’t tell Ruby about dat man stealing all da money youz raised to help those families fight cancer.”

  Elli leaned in and kissed Tante Izzy’s lined cheek. She tasted like old-fashioned cold cream and smelled like Ivory soap. “I was the featured story on page 36 of People Magazine and in the National Enquirer on pages three, four, and twenty-seven the week after the huge Griffith Park fundraiser. Ruby reads both.”

  “I only have time to look at da pictures in da magazine when I wait in da checkout line.”