He sat up, dumping her unceremoniously. “Of all the stupid—you know exactly how I feel about you.”
“Not really. You’re more sensitive than you pretend to be, and you hide a lot.”
“I’m not one bit sensitive.” He glared down at her. “You want to rub it in, don’t you? What I said at the party.”
She couldn’t remember what he’d said at the party, so she curled her lip at him. “Of course I want to rub it in. So say it again.”
He released an exasperated sigh and lay back in the pillows. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Go ahead and laugh. Believe me, I never expected it to work out that way.”
His best friend…She swallowed. “I don’t know why. I’m a very likable person.”
“You’re a nut bar. In a million years I’d never have imagined you’d be the person I trusted most.”
And she didn’t trust him at all. Except about this. He was telling the truth about his feelings for her. “What about Chaz? She’d take a bullet for you.”
“Okay, you’re the second most trustworthy person I know.”
“That’s better.” She told herself to let it go, but she had to try. One more time. “It could really screw us up”—she sighed, as if this were all too tedious—“if you turned into an idiot and decided to fall in love—”
“Jesus, Georgie, will you give it a rest? Nobody’s in love with anybody.”
“If you’re sure…?”
“I’m sure.”
“That’s a relief. Now stop talking so I can go to sleep.”
Her leg cramped, but she didn’t dare move until she heard the deep, even sound of his breathing. Only then did she ease out of bed. She slipped into the first thing she touched, his abandoned tuxedo shirt, and crept downstairs. Her father had gone back to his condo, leaving the guesthouse empty once again. She padded along the cold stone path, tears trickling down her cheeks. If she kept making love with him, she’d have to pretend it was only sex. She’d have to perform for him, just as she performed for the cameras.
She couldn’t do it. Not for him. Not for herself. Not ever again.
Chapter 24
Bramarrived late for Georgie’s audition, and Hank Peters’s cool nod indicated he wasn’t happy about it. Bram knew they were all waiting for him to fall back into his old, unreliable habits, but he’d been legitimately delayed by a call from one of the partners at Endeavor. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to explain—he’d spewed out too many bullshit excuses in the past—and he merely offered a short apology. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Although no one said it to his face, they all thought having Georgie read for them today was a waste of time. But he owed her an audition, no matter how much he hated being part of something that, in the end, would devastate her.
“Let’s get to work,” Hank said.
The audition room had bilious green walls, stained brown carpet, some battered metal chairs, and a couple of folding tables. It was located on the top floor of an old building at the rear of the Vortex lot that housed Siracca Productions, Vortex’s independent film subsidiary. Bram took the empty chair between Hank and the female casting director.
With his long face, thinning hair, and glasses, Hank looked more like an Ivy League professor than a Hollywood director, but he was enormously talented, and Bram still couldn’t quite believe they were working together. The casting director nodded at her assistant, who left to escort Georgie in from wherever they’d stashed her.
He hadn’t seen her since the night of the party. Paul had gotten sick afterward—some kind of stomach flu, according to Chaz—and Georgie had driven off to take care of him before Bram had woken up the next morning. Georgie didn’t need the distraction of playing nursemaid right before a major audition, and Bram couldn’t believe Paul hadn’t managed to send her home. Bram had wanted one more chance to talk her out of this.
The casting assistant returned and held the door open. Georgie’s self-confidence was a lot more fragile than she let on. She wouldn’t be horrible, but she wouldn’t be good, either, and he hated the idea of everybody picking over her performance.
A tall, dark-haired actress entered. An actress who wasn’t Georgie. As the casting director asked her what she’d been doing since her last film, Bram leaned closer to Hank. “Where the hell is Georgie?”
Hank regarded him oddly. “You don’t know?”
“We haven’t had a chance to talk. Her father has the flu, and she’s been taking care of him.”
Hank pulled off his glasses and polished them on the hem of his shirt, almost as if he didn’t want to make eye contact. “Georgie changed her mind. She decided the part wasn’t right for her, and she’s not auditioning for us.”
Bram couldn’t take it in. He sat through the audition without hearing a word of it, then excused himself and tried to reach her. But she wasn’t picking up. Neither was Paul or Aaron, and Chaz didn’t know anything more than what Georgie had originally told her. He finally called Laura. She said she’d spoken with Paul only a few hours earlier, and he hadn’t mentioned being sick.
Something was very wrong. He set off for home.
