Benny
What the crap was I thinking? I tried to kiss Bree while she’s in a vulnerable state? I’m a moron. I should be protecting her from slimeballs, not throwing myself at her.
And now she has to learn that her sister is engaged through the internet.
She immediately jumps down from the tailgate, pressing her hands to her temples. “Not Olive, right? She and Dash aren’t—” She looks at me, her words dying quickly while she shakes her head. “Zoey and Tag are obsessed with each other. It’s Zoey, isn’t it?”
Is she spiraling? I can’t tell, but she’s literally walking in a circle right now. I hop to my feet and take her hand, forcing her to stop and look at me. It makes me think of holding her, kissing her—almost kissing her—and I want to be back in that moment so I can do it properly.
Focus, man.
“Yes.” I squeeze her fingers. “Zoey posted online. Want me to find it? Colby said it’s a photo of her hand with a ring and the caption ‘Forever.’ People are going nuts over it.”
Bree doesn’t wait. As soon as I’ve opened my phone to Instagram, she takes it and searches for her sister’s handle.
The top photo is the one I just described, looking exactly how Colby explained it.
Zoey’s nails are perfectly manicured, her hand is sleek, and the ring is enormous.
She’s dating the heir to the Bone Appetit dog food fortune, so it tracks. That family has massive old money.
“What the—” Bree whispers, her shoulders deflating. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t Tag wait until all the drama has died down? My crap with the song could ruin everything. Her announcement and party and…just everything.”
“Or maybe they did it to take the spotlight away from you.”
She laughs, scrolling through the comments. Then her face sobers, and she looks at me. “You could be right. I need to call her. Can you take me home?”
“Let’s go.”
Bree gives me an apologetic smile and hands back my phone.
I catch her unwrapping another taffy and popping it in her mouth before she buckles her seatbelt.
The furrow doesn’t leave her forehead, though.
When I pull into my driveway, she’s out of the truck before I come to a complete stop. This engagement really messed with her.
I don’t give her an opportunity to turn me down. I follow her to Colby’s house, and when she walks through the door and leaves it open for me, I know she’s okay with me being here.
Bree goes directly into the kitchen and pulls her phone from a charging cord on the wall, then leans back against the counter.
A string of curses slip from her mouth in a light whisper as she finds her messaging app and locates her sister’s name.
I look from her phone to her face. The color drains from her cheeks as she reads, and I feel like I’m intruding.
“Should I leave?”
“You don’t have to,” she says without looking up.
That’s all I need. She clearly doesn’t want to be alone.
“Did Zoey warn you?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She keeps reading. “She texted me like a hundred times over the last two days about the engagement, but when I never responded, she decided to post it anyway.” Bree looks up, her deep brown eyes settling on me. “You were right. She’s trying to shift the media’s attention away from me.”
I hate to even think it, but it won’t last long. Zoey is well-loved, but she’s not nearly as popular as Bree. Good news doesn’t seem to have as much power as drama, either.
My next thought isn’t nearly as charitable. I really don’t want Bree to leave, and I hope this ordeal doesn’t spur her into going to New York.
She finds a phone number and dials it, then hits the speakerphone button. “Sorry,” she mutters.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, folding my arms over my chest.
“Oh my gosh, you’re alive,” Zoey says, her voice distant like she’s also on speaker phone. Do these women always talk like this?
“Hey,” Bree says weakly. “Congrats, Zo.”
“Thanks. I did try to tell you first.”
“My phone has been buried—almost literally—for like a week.”
“I figured. Where are you?”
“If I tell you, I’m giving up my anonymity.” She cringes. “I’m not quite ready for that.”
“Ouch. I can keep a secret.”
“Yeah, you can. Tag, though?”
“Hey,” he says in the background. “I can too…when it matters.” His voice carries a hint of something I can’t quite place. Upper East Side, possibly? New York money I rubbed shoulders with occasionally when I dated Bree.
She shakes her head at me, rolling her eyes. “Love you, Tag, but I’m not risking it. Anyway, this isn’t about me. I’m thrilled for you both. Do you have plans yet? Location? Month? I want to know how it all happened. You better have gotten down on one knee, Tag.”
“I did,” he says, sounding offended.
“Sort of. I’ll video chat you later, B.” Zoey shuffles, then there’s the sound of a car door closing. “We’re heading to dinner with the Bone Appetit board.”
“Ah, say no more. Are you having an engagement party? Anything I should be at…or stay away from? You probably only want good press.”
“You know that doesn’t matter to me. Mom has Patricia working on the party now. I’ll send you the details. I asked her to keep it to a small dinner, but you know Mom.”
“I do,” Bree says softly.
“We need to get in there,” Tag says.
“I’ll meet you inside.”
“Zo—”
“Just a second,” she says to him.
He makes a frustrated sound, but he must leave, because Zoey is still on the phone. She lowers her voice. “You okay, B?”
Bree’s eyes well up and she nods, despite the fact that her sister can’t see her. “I’m good. I found an Airbnb in the middle of nowhere, and I ran into an old friend, so we’ve been kind of hanging out. It’s been a real break.”
“Who?”
She looks at me. “Benny—”
“Benny Rhodes? Shut up. Are you serious?”
“Yes?” Bree says like a question, dragging out the word and avoiding my eyes.
“Are you planning to hook up—”
“Oh-kay, that’s enough of that.”
There’s a beat of silence. “He’s there now, isn’t he?”
Bree scoffs. “No. Why would you—”
“Benny?”
“Hi, Zoey.” There’s no point in pretending, right?
Zoey laughs, like a full belly laugh. “This is too good. Did you guys plan this?”
“Believe it or not, it was a total coincidence,” Bree says dryly. “The Airbnb I booked for the month is next door to his house.”
“In Montana?”
“No, I live in California now,” I tell her.
Bree gives me wide eyes, so I snap my mouth closed.
“I need to go before Tag loses it,” Zoey says. “I’ll tell Mom I got proof of life and you’re safe. Noah’s been stressed about your disappearance, but last I heard, Peanut is fine.”
Bree sighs. “Didn’t he get my note?”
“We still worry. Love you, B.”
“Love you, too. Give Tag a big old hug from me.”
“Okay, weirdo. Go save some turtles for me.”
Bree hangs up. “It was one time.”
“Do you feel better?”
“So much. Yes.” She drops her face into her hands, so I pull her into my arms before I can talk myself out of it, tightening the hug until her breathing slows. She leans against my chest, and I want to smell her hair, but since she’s wearing the wig, I refrain.
“Do you want to stay home tonight? I need to be at the Beach Beautification Board meeting, but I can make you some dinner before I go.”
Bree tips her chin up until her brown eyes are trained on me, thick dark lashes and a streak of black eyeliner framing them.
“I’ll come. I tried to convince Nancy to watch The Birds with me tonight, but she thought it would be better if I had socialization.
Apparently, I’m a stray and I need to learn how to be normal around others. ”
“Some of that is true,” I concede, grinning. “Mostly the part about the BBB meeting being a good place to hang out. Come on. Let’s go.”
She glances at her phone once before putting it face down on the counter and leaving it behind.
Whatever anxieties I’d felt about her needing to immediately return to her life and her sister because of this news are put to rest, but it’s only a matter of time before she leaves.
I’m fooling myself into believing we can enjoy each other’s company for a short few weeks and part ways without being hurt, aren’t I?
Then why don’t I care?
Sierra lives on the other side of town, on a small rise behind the elementary school.
Her house is simple, a little weathered, and very lived in.
This close to the ocean, though, everything is a little weathered.
Behind her house is her land, filled with row after row of flowers in the most stunning garden I’ve ever seen.
She does floral design, bouquets, weddings, anything you can think of.
Which also explains the stunning sunflower arrangement on her kitchen table, where everyone has set the dishes they’ve contributed for the evening. We’re only supposed to bring light snacks, but people always go overboard.
I have a plate full of hummus with sliced vegetables and Rose’s homemade tamales, which taste amazing.
The conversation has weaved in and out of BBB business over the last hour as people have munched and chatted.
Bree and Sierra discovered a mutual appreciation for the same thriller author and spent the last twenty minutes debating whether the ending of his last book was meant to mean one thing or another.
“I can’t stand it when it’s not perfectly laid out for me,” Sierra says, spearing a strawberry and dragging it through fruit dip. “Just tell me what you want me to know. It can be a gruesome ending, but be plain about it.”
Bree chose to forego the shades today in lieu of extra makeup, and it’s put me on edge since we walked through the door. “But this way we get to choose the ending we want,” she says.
“We didn’t write it, though. Which ending actually happened to the character?” Sierra is waving another strawberry around. “It’s like Bree Belacourt’s new song. That line, ‘Judas in heels’? What? I mean, either tell us what Jaida did, or don’t even bring it up! I can’t handle the mystery.”
Bree freezes. Her eyes are round, her mouth open slightly.
“I think she could get sued for slander if she spelled it out.” I try to step in and bridge the gap, but I’m not sure it’s helping. “Or is it libel? I mix the two up.”
Sierra pops her strawberry in her mouth. “Either way, I stand by what I said. She’s being a tease. If she’s willing to say any of it, she should come out and say all of it.”
“And face legal retribution?” I ask.
“Then don’t put out the song.”
“I bet she feels the same way now,” Rose cuts in.
I look at her with surprise. Rose is a fan? Really?
“That poor girl is being torn to shreds,” Rose adds.
“Agreed. She doesn’t deserve all the hate.” Sierra’s nodding as she speaks. “How many songs has Taylor Swift put out like this, and no one calls her out?”
“Swift is on another level,” Bree says, her tone all high and nasally as she tries to disguise it.
Colby’s standing across the room talking with Peter, and I catch his eye. He gives me a look that definitely says this isn’t going well.
“Maybe,” Sierra concedes, “but what do you think even happened between them? I know they have that public feud, but the song made it sound so much worse than two singers who don’t want to be friends. Judas? That’s deep betrayal.”
“Like steal-her-firstborn bad,” Dan pipes in.
Thanks for that, Dan.
“Wow,” Bree says, laughing awkwardly. “You all listen to Bree Belacourt? I wouldn’t have thought she was your style.”
“You don’t have to like her music to hear it,” Dan says. “It’s hard to get away from.”
“We should probably talk about the concert.” I try to draw everyone back to the things we’re supposed to be discussing. “I have the musicians lined up. Sierra, you posted the flyers already, right?”
“Wesley helped me take some around the businesses in town. I left some with a few places in Sebastopol and Occidental, too.”
“I like it.” I nod along. “The stage is contracted and confirmed, and the sound equipment is coming from a company out in…who has that? Dan?”
“Yeah, my buddy is taking care of it. His business is out of Santa Rosa. I bet he’d put a flyer in his shop, too.”
“Great.”
Rose chomps down on a carrot. “Did anyone post on the social medias?”
I look at Sierra.
She nods. “Just the flyers. If we can get all the bands coming to share them to their followers, that will go a long way. The ticket site is up and running. We’ve had a few trickle in, but if the bands share, we’ll probably sell more.”
“Anything else?”
Colby nods, lifting his hand. “I’m going to shoot a video during the concert. It’ll help in the future more than promo for this event, but maybe I can work with Ben to shoot a few things to post online.”
“Benny’s going to play?” Bree asks, her head whipping toward me.
My gaze shoots to her. Little weasel. I can see the spark in her smile. She knows the answer to this already, so if she’s hoping a little peer pressure might get me to change my mind, she’s in for disappointment.
“Benny?” Sierra asks, confusion clouding her expression. How many hints is Bree planning to lob her way today?
“No,” I say quickly. “I’m just organizing it.”
“It’s not a bad idea, Ben. Your name would bring in a lot of people,” Rose says. “You have such a lovely voice.”
“You sound like my grandma.”
“Wise woman.”
“We don’t want to pressure you,” Sierra says, “but we would obviously love it if you joined the lineup. You were on a lot of posters once.”
Like that’s going to sway me. “I’m not really interested.”
“Come on, Benny,” Bree says, her smile widening. Her lips, thick from the extra lip liner, and drawn on freckles might throw everyone else off, but her eyes are all Bree. The mischief especially.
Well, two can play at this game, Miss Belacourt.
“I tell you what, guys. You get Bree Belacourt up on that stage, then I’ll play.”
Her eyes spark with a challenge while everyone else in the room deflates.
A point goes to me.