What I Did For Love Part 15

"Babe, I suck up to anybody who might be able to get me a decent acting job."

"That's pathetic. But I'll admit it's enormously gratifying to watch you grovel."

"Whatever it takes to get ahead," he said lightly.

Sleep was beyond him, so Bram went to the pool. Life had become way too complicated, he thought as he stripped and dove in. He'd hoped this idiotic marriage would make things run smoother for him, but he hadn't factored in how protective Rory was of Georgie. him, so Bram went to the pool. Life had become way too complicated, he thought as he stripped and dove in. He'd hoped this idiotic marriage would make things run smoother for him, but he hadn't factored in how protective Rory was of Georgie.

He flipped to his back and let himself drift. Every time he tried to dig his way out of the tunnel he'd fallen into, another cave-in threatened to bury him. Georgie thought it was all about money. She didn't know that he needed respectability more. And he didn't want her to know. He intended to make sure Georgie continued to see him as the b.a.s.t.a.r.d he'd always been. His life was his own, and he wasn't letting her into any part of it that mattered.

He hadn't always been a loner. Growing up without a real family had made him quick to create an artificial one from the guys who'd eventually bitten him in the a.s.s. He'd thought they were his friends, but they'd been users-spending his money, exploiting his connections, and eventually setting him up for that d.a.m.ned s.e.x tape. Lesson well learned. Looking out for number one meant going it alone.

Georgie wasn't a user, but that didn't mean he wanted her rooting around in his psyche, figuring out how much he needed to create a new life for himself. She'd known him too long, she saw too much, and she was dangerously easy to talk to. But he couldn't stomach the idea of having her watch him fail, a possibility that grew more likely every day.

Georgie was useful for polishing his reputation and for s.e.x. As much as he wanted to rush that last part, his ugly behavior that night on the boat meant he had to give her as much time as she needed...and then draw her in.

Four days pa.s.sed. Just as Georgie began to hope the balcony photos would never appear, they showed up in a U.K. tabloid. After that, they were everywhere. But instead of revealing a lovers' tryst, the blurry nighttime images the photographer had caught seemed to show Georgie and Bram having a nasty argument. In the first frame, Georgie looked combative with her hand splayed on her hip. Next came Georgie with her face buried in her palms, remorseful over her self-serving plan to go to Haiti, except even the most casual observer would believe she was crying from their fight. Another picture showed Bram holding her by the shoulders. It had been a comforting gesture, but the shadowy image made his posture look menacing. The final shot, the blurriest of them all, showed their private kiss. Unfortunately, it was impossible to tell whether he was kissing her or shaking her. Just as Georgie began to hope the balcony photos would never appear, they showed up in a U.K. tabloid. After that, they were everywhere. But instead of revealing a lovers' tryst, the blurry nighttime images the photographer had caught seemed to show Georgie and Bram having a nasty argument. In the first frame, Georgie looked combative with her hand splayed on her hip. Next came Georgie with her face buried in her palms, remorseful over her self-serving plan to go to Haiti, except even the most casual observer would believe she was crying from their fight. Another picture showed Bram holding her by the shoulders. It had been a comforting gesture, but the shadowy image made his posture look menacing. The final shot, the blurriest of them all, showed their private kiss. Unfortunately, it was impossible to tell whether he was kissing her or shaking her.

All h.e.l.l broke loose.

"I can't believe these b.a.s.t.a.r.ds get away with this kind of c.r.a.p." Bram took a vicious swipe at a fly that had the temerity to land on the table next to his coffee mug. He'd once made an art out of shrugging off bad publicity, but now he wanted blood-the photographer's and everyone who'd printed the photos, from the original tabloid to the online gossip sites. "If I could just get my hands on one of them..."

"Don't look at me if you're going to turn violent," she said. "I'm on your side for once."

They were sitting outside at Urth Caffe on Melrose sipping cups of organic coffee. Seven days had elapsed since the photos had appeared. Photographers and gawkers lined the sidewalk, and the Caffe's other customers were openly staring at the city's most famous newlyweds.

Everything she'd hoped to achieve with this marriage was backfiring. All her friends had called except Meg, who was still M.I.A. She'd had to keep both April and Sasha from flying back to L.A. As for her father...He'd stormed over to the house and threatened to kill Bram. She still wasn't sure he believed her account of what had really happened, and his resistance to their marriage had only intensified. So much for taking charge of her life. Her self-confidence was shakier than ever.

"Will you smile at me, for chrissake?" His clenched jaw made his own smile suspect, but she played the good soldier and leaned forward to kiss the tight corner of his mouth.

There'd been no more private kisses since the night on the balcony eleven days ago, although she'd thought about that kiss more than she wanted to. She might dislike Bram as a person, but apparently his body was another matter, because the only pleasure she'd managed to conjure up all week had been watching him walk around with his shirt off, or even with his shirt on, like now.

"And this is a date, d.a.m.n it. Our fifth fifth this week." this week."

"Bull," she said, keeping her smile. "This is business, damage control like all the rest. I told you-it's not a date until we're both having a good time, and in case you haven't noticed, we're miserable."

He clenched his teeth. "Maybe you could try a little harder."

She dunked her second biscotti in her coffee and took a desultory nibble. At least she'd gained a few pounds, but that was small compensation for being trapped in an impossible situation with the press d.o.g.g.i.ng them...and with a man who trailed testosterone.

He set down his own cup. "People think pictures don't lie."

"These do."

The headlines read:

Marriage Over! Next Stop Splitsville More Heartbreak for Georgie Georgie's Ultimatum! Get to Rehab!

Even Bram's old s.e.x tape had resurfaced.

They'd been trying to repair the damage by hitting all the paparazzi hot spots daily. They'd bought m.u.f.fins at City Bakery in Brentwood, lunched at the Chateau, visited The Ivy again, as well as n.o.bu, the Polo Lounge, and Mr. Chow. They spent two nights club hopping, which left Georgie feeling old and even more depressed. Today, they'd shopped at Armani's home store on Robertson, Fred Segal on Melrose, then stopped at a trendy boutique where they'd bought a set of obnoxious matching T-shirts they'd never wear anyplace but in public.

They'd only been able to risk a few separate outings. Bram slipped away for a couple of mysterious meetings. She took a few dance cla.s.ses, went for an early-morning hike, and sent a huge anonymous check to Food for the Poor's Haitian relief program. Generally, however, they had to stick together. At his suggestion, she was pulling the publicity-hungry celeb's favorite trick of changing her clothes several times a day, since every new outfit meant the tabs bought a fresh photo. After having spent the past year trying to stay out of the public eye, she didn't miss the irony.

The other coffee-shop customers had been content merely to stare, but now a young guy with a scraggly goatee and a fake Rolex came up to their table. "Can I get your autographs?"

She didn't mind signing autographs for genuine fans, but something told her these would be up for sale on eBay by the end of the day.

"Just your signature is okay," he said, confirming her suspicions as she took the felt pen and pristine piece of paper he handed her.

"Let me personalize it," she said.

"You don't have to do that."

"I insist."

Personalizing a signature devalued it, and his loser's mouth grew sullen as he realized she had his number. He muttered the name Harry. She signed, "To Harry, with all my love." On the next line, she deliberately misspelled her last name, adding an e e to York, so the autograph looked bogus. Bram, in the meantime, scrawled "Miley Cyrus" across the other piece of paper. to York, so the autograph looked bogus. Bram, in the meantime, scrawled "Miley Cyrus" across the other piece of paper.

The kid balled up both signatures and stalked away. "Thanks for nothing."

Bram slumped back in the chair and muttered, "What the h.e.l.l kind of life is this?"

"Right now it's our life, and we need to make the best of it."

"Do me a favor and spare me the Annie Annie sound track." sound track."

"You're a very negative person." She made her point by launching into the chorus of "Tomorrow."

"That's it." He shot to his feet. "Let's get out of here."

They set off down the sidewalk, their hands linked, his bronze hair glistening in the sun, hers desperately in need of a cut, and the paps trailing close behind. The trip took a while. "Do you have to stop and talk to every little kid you see?" Bram grumbled.

"Good photo op." She didn't reveal how much she loved talking to children. "And who are you to complain? How many times have I had to stand around while you flirted with other women?"

"That last one was sixty if she was a day."

She'd also had a big mole on her face and bad makeup, but Bram had admired her earrings and even given her an eye-smolder. He did that a lot, she'd noticed, bypa.s.sing the beauty queens to stop and chat with their homelier sisters. For the s.p.a.ce of a few moments, he made them feel beautiful.

She hated it when he did nice things.

Still, his generally foul mood had lifted her own, and when she spotted a pretty flower shop, she pulled him inside. The interior was fragrant, the flowers beautifully arranged, and the clerk left them alone. Georgie took her time studying the arrangements and finally chose a mixed bouquet of iris, roses, and lilies. "Your treat."

"I've always been a generous guy."

"You're going to bill me, aren't you?"

"Sad, but true."

Before they got to the register, his cell rang. He glanced at the display and flipped the phone shut without answering. He was on the phone a lot, she'd noticed, but seldom where she could overhear. She held out her hand before he could pocket the phone. "Lend it to me, will you? I need to make a call, and I forgot mine."

He pa.s.sed it over, but instead of punching in a number, she flicked through the display to the most recent entry. "Caitlin Carter. Now I know your lover's last name."

He s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone back. "Stop snooping. And she's not my lover."

"Then why won't you talk to her in front of me?"

"Because I don't want to." He headed for the counter with the bouquet. As he stopped near a florist's cart filled with frilly pastel blooms, she was struck by the contrast between his confident masculinity and those lacy flowers. Once again, she felt that distracting s.e.xual stirring. This morning she'd even made an excuse to work out with him just so she could watch the show.

It was pathetic, but understandable. She was even a little proud of herself. Despite the current chaos stirred up by the photos, she was experiencing l.u.s.t at its most elemental, separate from even a minimal amount of affection. Basically, she'd turned into a guy.

Bram gave her the flowers to carry from the shop. They'd been lucky enough to find a rare parking s.p.a.ce close by, but they still had to get through the crowd of noisy paps stalking the sidewalk in front.

"Bram! Georgie! Over here!"

"Have you two patched up your fight?"

"Make-up flowers, Bram?"

"Georgie! Right here!"

Bram pulled her against him. "Stand back, guys. Give us some room."

"Georgie, I heard you saw a lawyer."

Bram shoved the burly photographer who'd gotten too close. "I said to stay back!"

Out of nowhere, Mel Duffy emerged from the swarm and lifted his camera toward them. "Hey, Georgie. Any comment about Jade Gentry's miscarriage?"

His shutter clicked away.

Georgie felt sick. Her envy had somehow poisoned that defenseless fetus. Duffy had told them the miscarriage had happened in Thailand nearly two weeks ago, only a few days after her Vegas wedding, when Lance and Jade had been about to join up with a U.N. task force. Their publicist had just released the news, saying the couple was devastated but that doctors had a.s.sured them there was no reason they couldn't have another child. All those phone messages Lance had left her... Her envy had somehow poisoned that defenseless fetus. Duffy had told them the miscarriage had happened in Thailand nearly two weeks ago, only a few days after her Vegas wedding, when Lance and Jade had been about to join up with a U.N. task force. Their publicist had just released the news, saying the couple was devastated but that doctors had a.s.sured them there was no reason they couldn't have another child. All those phone messages Lance had left her...

Bram didn't say anything until they were nearly home. Then he turned down the radio and gazed over at her. "Tell me you're not taking this to heart."

What kind of woman resented an innocent, unborn child? She was nauseated by guilt. "Me? Of course not. It's sad, that's all. Of course, I'm sorry for them."

His knowing expression made her look away. She needed a gigolo, not a shrink. She adjusted her sungla.s.ses. "n.o.body wants something like this to happen. Maybe I wish I hadn't been quite so upset when I heard she was pregnant. That's only natural."

"This had nothing to do with you."

"I know that."

"Your brain knows it, but the rest of you is seriously screwed up when it comes to anything a.s.sociated with the Loser."

Her self-control snapped. "He just lost his baby! A baby I didn't want to see born."

"I knew it! I knew you'd decide you were somehow responsible. Toughen up, Georgie."

"You think I'm not tough? I'm surviving this marriage, aren't I?"

"This isn't a marriage. It's a chess game."

He was right, and she was sick of the whole thing.

They drove the rest of the way to the house in silence, but after he'd parked the car in the garage, he didn't immediately get out. Instead, he sat there, pulling off his sungla.s.ses and messing with the stems. "Caitlin is the daughter of Sarah Carter."

"The novelist?" She let go of the door handle.

"She died three years ago."

"I remember." Considering Bram's past history, she'd been certain Caitlin was a bimbo, but that was unlikely, with an author of Sarah Carter's caliber as her mother. Carter had written a number of literary thrillers, none of them successful. Several years after her death, a small press had brought out Tree House, Tree House, a previously unpublished work. The novel had gradually caught fire with the public, and eventually became the darling of book clubs. Like everyone else, Georgie had loved it. a previously unpublished work. The novel had gradually caught fire with the public, and eventually became the darling of book clubs. Like everyone else, Georgie had loved it.

"Caitlin and I were dating when the book first came out," Bram said. "Before it hit the best-seller lists. She mentioned that the last thing her mother had written before she died was a screenplay for Tree House, Tree House, and she let me read it." and she let me read it."

"Sarah Carter turned the book into a screenplay herself?"

"A d.a.m.n good one. I optioned it two hours after I finished it."

Georgie nearly choked. "You hold the film option on Tree House Tree House? You? You?"

"I was drunk and didn't think about what I was getting into." He climbed out of the car looking as gorgeous and worthless as ever.

She hurried across the garage after him. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me you optioned it before before the book became a best seller?" the book became a best seller?"

He headed into the house. "I was drunk and and lucky." lucky."

"I'll say. How lucky?"

"Very. Caitlin could sell a new option on that screenplay for twenty times what I paid her, something she never stops reminding me about."