Previously...

Stormy confronted Brett about the fifty thousand dollars he'd taken from a Sunset Studios account.  Later, Brett vowed to find ammuntion to discredit Stormy and get him permanently out of the business. After realizing the hurt it would inflict on Ethan, Janet returned and asked Will for her manuscript back. Will laughed and told her to get lost.  Heather and Miranda conspired to find out what Will was hiding in his mansion.  James and Alex learned that Senator Timothy Fallmont was planning an unjunction against their pipeline in Colorado. Brooke, meanwhile, grew hurt that James seemed to have forgotten about Michael and was now concentrating on business again. James threw a dinner party at the mansion and invited Timothy to discuss the pipeline. When he arrived with his wife on his arm, Stormy realized his wife was Samantha.

Episode 41

"The Fallmonts" Part 2

Miranda and Heather crept down the dark tunnel until they came to the staircase leading to Will Thomerson’s parlor room.  Miranda forced the door open and they emptied out into the house, glancing around quickly to make sure no one was around.

“I don’t know about this,” Heather said as they made their way into the room.  “What if he comes home?  We might not be so lucky this time.”

“Shhh,” Miranda said and glared at her.  “We have to do this.  Now let’s go.  I say we check the upstairs rooms first.”

Reluctantly, Heather followed her to the doors leading into the entryway.  Miranda pulled a penlight from her pocket and shined it across the room as they went.   They passed by Will’s desk and Miranda aimed the light onto the surface.  She stopped in her tracks and picked up a piece of paper that caught her eye.

“Wait a minute,” she whispered, pulling Heather back.  “I think I found something.”

“What is it?” Heather asked, looking over her shoulder at the paper.

“Certificate of live birth,” Miranda said, scrolling the light over the heading on the official looking document.  “Oh my God.”

Just then, the lights came on and they both screamed in terror.  Miranda dropped the certificate and backed up, bumping into Heather as Will stood before them, blocking their path to the door.

Brooke left the house and went for a drive, hoping that no one would even notice she was gone.  James was so involved with work that he probably wouldn’t give her another thought for the rest of the night.  He certainly wasn’t concerned with finding their son so why should she be any different?

Before she knew it, she found herself driving to Ethan’s house in the Valley.  She resisted at first, circling the block and wondering if it was a good idea that she go to him.  In the past, it always ended in confusing matters more.  But now Ethan seemed to be the only one who understood how she felt.  He had a special bond with Michael, even if she had consistently kept the truth from him.  Maybe that was why he understood.   Deep down he knew the truth.  That he was her baby’s father. 

After deciding she would just stop by for a minute, she parked her car in his driveway and walked up to the porch, the sound of crickets chirping all around her.  Before she reached her hand out to knock, she peered inside and caught a glimpse of Ethan sitting on the sofa in an embrace with Janet.

They were undressed, covered by a blanket as they kissed and laughed happily and carefree.  She hadn’t seen Ethan look so happy in a long time, she realized.  Not since they were together in the Caribbean almost a year ago.  To her surprise, she felt a pang of jealousy and her eyes began to tear up.  Knowing that she had no right to feel the way she did, she fought to control herself.  She was married to James and she’d made her choice.  If Ethan wanted to be with another woman he had every right to do so.

Backing up, she started down the driveway to her car and slowly opened the door.  A quick pause while she looked back at the house, the glow of flickering candles evident through the windows.   Coming there was a mistake, she decided.    Why did she stop anyway?  Why didn’t she keep driving and resist her compulsion to see Ethan?

Quickly, she got back into her car and sped off down the road, fighting back the tears that threatened her eyes. 

Will stared down at Miranda and Heather, fuming at the sight of the two young women invading his home.  He glanced at the birth certificate that fell to the floor, quickly snapping it up and placing it safely in his pocket.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes darting around the room.

Miranda looked at Heather, petrified of what was going to happen next.  She hadn’t expected to get caught, and even if they did, she had hoped she’d be able to come up with something to save them.

“I asked what you’re doing here!” Will shouted, closing the door of the parlor so they couldn’t leave.  “What gives you the right to break into someone’s home?  How did you get in here anyway?”

Miranda quickly covered for them.  “I picked the lock,” she said, not wanting to give away the fact that they’d found the staircase leading to the underground tunnel.

“How resourceful,” Will said and backed them into the room.  “James Blackthorne’s daughter a cat burglar.  This should make for some interesting front page headlines.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Heather said and pushed her way past Miranda.  “And you know damn well what we’re doing here.”

“Why don’t you indulge me.”

Glaring wildly at him, Heather felt herself growing angrier by the second.  The very thought that she could ever have been intimate with him made her skin crawl.   “I want that tape,” she said.  She decided to sacrifice her own secret in order to keep him in the dark about their suspicions about the kidnapping. 

“The tape?” Will asked with a sickly smile.   “What tape would that be, Heather?”

“You know damn well what tape,” she shot back, moving forward.  “The tape that makes me lie awake at night in a cold sweat!  The tape that makes me want to shower eight times a day so I can get the feeling of those disgusting men off of me!  The tape that you set up to get back at me for stealing a few movie deals from you, you sick son of a bitch!”

Miranda stared wide-eyed at Heather, slowly realizing why it was so important for her to get in that house the other night.  She didn’t know all the details, but she knew all she needed to.  Whatever Will had done to her, it was something unspeakably awful.

“Take it easy,” Will said, slightly unnerved by the wild rage in Heather’s eyes.  “I consider that tape to be payment for what you and James Blackthorne stole from me.”

Heather balled her fists together and lunged toward him.  “God, you’re such a disgusting pervert!” she screamed, battering him relentlessly with her fists.  “How could you have done that to me?  You set me up you fu-“

“Heather, stop!” Miranda pleaded, trying desperately to pull her off of Will.  “It’s okay!”

She withdrew from her attack, her hair flipped chaotically over her face.  “No, it’s not okay,” she said, breathing heavily.  “Not until this monster pays for what he did to me.”

“What I did to you?” Will asked, walking over to his desk and pulling a piece of paper from the top drawer.  “But you did it to yourself, Heather dear.  I have the consent form with your signature on it.”

“You forged that!” Heather screamed.  “I never consented to anything!”

“Actually you did.  You just didn’t know what you were signing.  But fortunately that excuse won’t hold up in a court of law, so I urge you to think before you go making any accusations that you can’t back up.”

Heather’s eyes bore into his, flashes of contempt stabbing into him like daggers.  “I could kill you for this,” she said.  “I swear to God someone’s going to make you pay.”

Grinning smugly, Will casually opened the doors to the parlor and stood clear of the doorway.  “On the contrary.  It’s my turn to make all of you pay.  Every last one of you.”

Miranda didn’t waste any time in taking Heather’s hand and leading her out to the front door in the entryway.  She led her outside and left Will standing behind, a satisfied grin on his face.

Stormy spent the entire five course meal staring across the table at Samantha, sitting comfortably close to Timothy who fawned over her the entire evening.  He couldn’t fathom for a second the odds that the husband she was so unhappy with was Senator Fallmont, the very man who was proposing an injunction against his mother and father’s pipeline. 

Now she was here, in his house, sitting across the table from him and no one knew that they’d been quite well acquainted since the previous summer.  And if the truth did get out, he could only imagine the devastating affects it would have on Blackthorne-Reynolds.   

“I understand your concerns, Senator Fallmont,” James said as they all retired into the library for drinks.  “But if you’ll just let us propose another course of action, I’m sure we can come up with a compromise.”

Timothy shook his head, his arm around Samantha as they followed Jack and Adrienne into the room.   “I’m not sure that there is a compromise,” he attested.  “That land you want to destroy while drilling for natural gas has been environmentally protected for decades.  I’m concerned about the toxic runoff that could affect wildlife, plant life, and water reservoirs that exist mere miles from the site.  The affects could be disasterous.”

That land does belong to us,” Alex quipped, lighting a cigarette and sitting down next to Adrienne.   “When my uncle left it to me he said nothing about environmental protection.”

“It’s possible that he didn’t know,” Timothy said.  “Either way, it’s an issue that many people are concerned about.  Since you proposed the pipeline, there’s been a lot of talk in Washington.”

“You mean talk that you started because you’re angling for the U.S. Senate, isn’t that right?” Stormy asked, glaring angrily at him.  He couldn’t stand the way the man sat there, pawing at Samantha like she was a possession.  It was immediately obvious why she was so unhappy with him.  Men like Timothy Fallmont were overbearing and intolerable.

Timothy met his gaze with one equally as challenging.  “This injunction has nothing to do with my future political aspirations.”

“Oh really?” Stormy asked, fed up with the way he spun facts to suit himself.  “So it’s just a coincidence that this injunction comes up a few months before the primaries?  Come on, who do you think you’re kidding?”

“Stormy, Senator Fallmont is here as our guest,” James cautioned his son.

“No, it’s okay, Mr. Blackthorne,” Timothy interrupted.  “Your son has a valid concern.  Albeit slightly inflammatory.  I would hate to hear that the voters thought I was grandstanding just because the election was coming up.  I firmly intend to make it clear that my main concern is the environment.”

Just then, Brooke entered the room and smiled apologetically to the guests.  “I’m sorry I missed dinner,” she said, walking over to James and putting her arm around him.

“Darling, Leilani said you’d left the house,” James said.  “Where were you?”

She grew distant and felt all eyes on her.  “I had to pick up a prescription from the pharmacy,” she lied.  “I guess it took longer than I expected.”

James kissed her on the cheek and proceeded to introduce her to Timothy and Samantha.    “Would you excuse us for just a minute?” he then asked.

They left the room and walked out into the entryway where James put his arms around his wife and held her close.  “Darling, are you sure you’re all right?” he asked.  “I know this is all hard for you to take in.  I promise after tonight business will be taken care of for a while.  I just need to come to some kind of agreement with Senator Fallmont.”

Brooke nodded with a vague smile.  All she could manage to think of was Ethan and the fact that he was seemingly so happy with Janet back at his house.  Not that he didn’t deserve happiness, but it was a little disheartening to see that life was going on for him after everything they’d been though. 

Back in the library, Timothy was embroiled in a deep conversation with Jack and Adrienne.  Brett was chatting with Alex, dodging her usual jabs at his shady past and his place in her daughter’s life.  Stormy walked across the room where Samantha fixed her and Timothy a drink at the bar.

“Don’t say it,” she said, barely looking up at him so as not to attract attention.  “I know what it must look like.”

“Oh really?” he asked in a low whisper.  “Then tell me because I sure as hell don’t know what’s going on.  Why didn’t you tell me your husband was Timothy Fallmont?”

“I told you he was a powerful man,” Samantha claimed, slowly stirring their drinks and letting the ice clink against the crystal tumblers.  “I was just as shocked as you were when we showed up here tonight.  He told me he had to discuss business with someone in L.A. and that he wanted me to go along.  How shocked was I when we pulled up into the driveway of your father’s house?”

Stormy ran his fingers through his hair and stepped closer to her, checking over his shoulder every now and then to see if Timothy noticed them talking.  “I thought you said he was so cold and unloving,” he whispered.  “He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you all night.  Do you know what that’s doing to me?”

“He’s my husband,” Samantha spat.  “He’s putting on a show for your family.  Believe me, he’s nothing like this at home.  He barely acknowledges me when we’re alone.  We have separate bedrooms, Stormy.  It’s awful.”

Across the room, Brett watched their silent exchange in wonderment.  He couldn’t hear their low whispers but it was clear that this wasn’t the first time Stormy had met the senator’s lovely wife.

Determined to have a chance to talk to Samantha in depth later, Stormy poured himself a glass of vodka and leaned in close to her ear.  “Meet me down the hall in the conservatory in ten minutes,” he said.  “We can talk more there.”

“Stormy, no,” she held firmly.  “It’s not safe.”

“Samantha, I think that we should-“

His thought was interrupted when Timothy approached from behind and kissed Samantha tenderly on the cheek.  “How are those drinks coming, Sweetheart?” he asked, taking his scotch from her and nodding politely at Stormy.  “Well, I certainly have to hand it to you, Stormy.  I underestimated you.”

“How so?”

“I thought you were going to be a snotty know-it-all Hollywood kid who had no interests beyond his trust fund and the latest party,” Timothy said with a cocky smile.  “I was surprised by what you said back there.  Do you follow politics much?”

Stormy glared at him and let his eyes drift past Samantha.  “I know enough to know an opportunist when I see one,” he said before returning to the sitting area.

Samantha smiled uneasily at her husband and led him back to their seats where Brooke and James had just rejoined the group.

Loud music emanated from the walls of Jordan’s house in Beverly Hills.  A group of valet’s stationed in the front drive struggled to keep up with the onslaught of expensive cars coming and going throughout the night.

Inside, the house was packed.  Celebrities from every reach of Hollywood filled the downstairs rooms, sipping champagne and cocktails as they mingled with peers and the occasional Hollywood hopeful.  All the great directors were there, and some of the not so great.  Buxom blond actresses and studly actors frolicked about, pausing to offer a generous smile to their host as he made his way from room to room.

“Great party, Jordan,” said Victor Distefano, the playboy Italian actor.

“You’ve got to do this more often,” agreed Eric Autumn, the boy-wonder director and closet homosexual.

“Single life agrees with you,” said a leggy burnette who didn't know it but was being blacklisted at that very moment by a scorned producer. 

The praise came fast and furious.  Jordan couldn’t help but agree with them.  Leaving Alex was the best thing he could have done.  Her moving out of his Beverly Hills mansion was the next best thing.  Now he was free to throw the lavish parties that he was accustomed to before he wasted a year of his life on her.  And of course the female attention he received didn’t hurt either.

Making his way to the Jacuzzi out on the congested terrace, he snatched a drink from a passing waiter and quickly downed it in one gulp.   His eyes traveled to the hot tub where B.J. Summers was topless, bouncing merrily in Philip Whitacre’s lap.  He smiled and shook his head with a chuckle, not a bit surprised by the lovely young actress’s lack of inhibition and modesty.  Nor was he surprised by Philip’s.

“Enjoying yourself?” Jordan asked as he perched on the ledge of the hot tub and looked down at the compromising position they were in.

Philip grinned and managed a resounding yes.  “And I thought his would be a dull industry party.”

“You should have been around a few years back.  Parties like this went on every night here,” Jordan confided, barley able to take his eyes off of B.J. and her endowed presence.  “So Philip, I hear you’re doing okay in the business.  Everyone’s got to start somewhere.  I actually did a few adult films back in my twenties, long before I made it as a director or a producer.”

“Nice,” Philip said, more interested in B.J. than he was in the small talk.  Luckily he was good at multi-tasking.  “I gotta ask you, man.  Aren’t you sore at me?  I mean, you did walk in on me and your wife in bed together last summer.”

Jordan shrugged, finding himself having to yell over the loud roar of the crowd and the moans of excitement coming from B.J.  “Well, we weren’t married then.  And we’re about to be not married again soon.  I like to leave the past in the past.”

“Does that mean Ms. Reynolds is available?” Philip asked with a grin, squinting and groaning as B.J. bounced slow and rhythmically on top of him.  “She’s a fox.”

The insinuation got to Jordan, as much as he hated to admit it.  The thought of Alex with another man drove him crazy.  “It doesn’t look like you have much trouble finding women your own age.”

“True,” Philip said.  “Some of the girls in the films I do are hot.  Like this one girl a few weeks ago.  She was all messed up on Quaaludes or something.  Me and another guy went at her all night.  I saw some of the footage.  It looked pretty good.”

Jordan managed an unenthusiastic chuckle.  Maybe he was just getting old but it seemed like the industry had gotten a little too shady for his tastes.  He turned just as the tall brunette actress approached and straddled him, kissing him hard and deep.

Heather trembled from head to toe as Miranda led her back into the mansion through the back door in the kitchen.  She’d never seen her stepsister so upset and exhibit such rage toward anyone in her life, not even when she learned of Stormy’s affair last year.   It was obvious she was shaken and had been keeping a horrible secret inside for too long.

“Sit down,” Miranda said, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table.  She went to the water and retrieved a bottle of water which she poured hastily into a glass.   “Here, drink some of this.  Heather, are you okay?”

Heather took the glass and sipped the cold liquid, her hands trembling so much that she nearly dropped it in her lap.   “I don’t know,” she said, looking around as if confused by her surroundings.   “What happened?”

Frowning, Miranda looked into her eyes.  “You don’t remember?  Heather, we just were at Will’s house.  You attacked him.  You were screaming at him.  I’ve never seen you like that before.”

She shook her head.  “I don’t remember.  I must have blacked out or something.”

Miranda decided she must have been in such a rage that she erased the unpleasant scene from her mind.  “But Heather, what happened with Will before tonight?  What did he do to you?”    

“I was seeing him…” she explained slowly.  “…romantically….so I could steal movie scripts from him for Sunset Studios.  Brett said that if I did it he would put me in a starring role in a movie.”  She paused and looked at Miranda, shaking her head in agony.  “I didn’t want to do it, Miranda.  I hated every minute of it.  But I wanted that part so bad that I would do anything.”

Alarmed by what her husband had put Heather through, Miranda sat down and placed a hand on hers.  “Go on.”

“Will found out what I’d been doing and he got revenge on me,” she said.  “He sent me to this director’s office in Van Nuys.  When I got there he gave me drink and the next thing I know I’m undressed laying on the couch.  There were two men.  I know one of them was Philip Whitacre.  The director filmed them having sex with me.”

“Oh God,” Miranda whispered, disgusted by the turn of events.

“I woke up the next morning at Hotel Terranova.  There was a tape and a note from Will saying that it was my payback.”