What I Did For Love Part 17

"I'll deal with Dad. And Mom already dislikes you, so she's no problem."

Chaz chose that moment to enter her kitchen. Today two tiny rubber bands made miniature devil horns out of the now fluorescent red hair on top of her head. She looked fourteen, but she cussed like a veteran sailor when she saw the condition of her kitchen. Until Bram stepped forward...

"I'm sorry, Chaz. The blender got away from me."

Chaz immediately softened. "Wait for me next time, okay?"

"I sure will," he said contritely.

She began ripping off squares of paper towel and handing them out. "Wipe your feet so you don't track this s.h.i.t all over the house."

She refused any offers of help and began attacking the mess with single-minded focus. As they left the kitchen, Georgie remembered Chaz's enthusiasm for cleaning up messes and wished she had her video camera handy.

She decided to settle for Meg instead, and later that afternoon as they sat around the pool, she turned the camera on her and began asking about her experiences in India. But unlike Chaz, Meg had grown up around cameras, and she answered only the questions she chose to. When Georgie tried to press her, she said she was bored talking about herself and wanted to swim.

Bram appeared not long after. He closed up his phone, sprawled on the chaise next to Georgie, and gazed at Meg in the pool. "Having your pal around isn't a good idea. I still have the hots for her."

"No, you don't. You just want to annoy me." He hadn't put a shirt on, and l.u.s.t shot right through her s.l.u.tty little body. Bram thought she was playing games by holding him off, but it was more complicated. She'd never viewed s.e.x as meaningless entertainment. She'd always needed for it to be important. Until now.

Was she finally clear-eyed and self-a.s.sertive enough to indulge in a mindless fling? A few steamy romps and then, "Arrivederci, babe, and don't let the door hit you on your way out." But that scenario had a major flaw. How could she have a mindless fling with a man she couldn't send home afterward? No matter which way she looked at it, living under the same roof was a complication she couldn't get around.

"You haven't mentioned your meeting at the Mandarin this morning," she said to distract herself.

"Nothing to say. The guy mainly wanted the dirt on our marriage." Bram shrugged. "Who cares? It's a beautiful afternoon, and neither of us is miserable. You have to admit this is a great third date."

"Nice try."

"Give it up, Georgie. I've noticed the way you look at me. You do everything but lick your lips."

"Unfortunately, I'm human, and you're a lot hotter than you used to be. If only you were a real person instead of a male blow-up doll..."

He swung his legs over the lounge and stood above her like a golden Apollo who'd sauntered down from Mount Olympus to remind female mortals about the consequences of messing with the G.o.ds. "One more week, Georgie. That's all you've got."

"Or what?"

"You'll see."

Somehow it didn't sound like an idle threat.

Laura Moody finished her salad and tossed the container into the trash basket by her desk, which was located in a gla.s.s-walled office on the third floor of Starlight Artists Management. She was forty-nine years old, single, and perpetually dieting in an attempt to lose the extra ten pounds that made her grossly obese by Hollywood standards. She had flyaway brown hair, still without a speck of gray; brandy-colored eyes; and a long nose balanced by a strong chin. She was neither pretty nor plain, which made her invisible in L.A. The designer suits and jackets that were a Hollywood agent's required uniform never looked quite right on her short frame, and even when she was dressed in Armani, someone invariably asked her to get coffee. her salad and tossed the container into the trash basket by her desk, which was located in a gla.s.s-walled office on the third floor of Starlight Artists Management. She was forty-nine years old, single, and perpetually dieting in an attempt to lose the extra ten pounds that made her grossly obese by Hollywood standards. She had flyaway brown hair, still without a speck of gray; brandy-colored eyes; and a long nose balanced by a strong chin. She was neither pretty nor plain, which made her invisible in L.A. The designer suits and jackets that were a Hollywood agent's required uniform never looked quite right on her short frame, and even when she was dressed in Armani, someone invariably asked her to get coffee.

"h.e.l.lo, Laura."

She nearly knocked over her Diet Pepsi at the sound of Paul York's voice. A week of dodging his phone calls had finally caught up with her. Paul was a great-looking guy with his thick, steelgray hair and even features, but he had the personality of a prison warden. Today he wore his customary uniform: gray slacks and a powder-blue dress shirt with a pair of Ray-Bans hooked in the breast pocket. His easy, loose-jointed walk didn't fool her. Paul York was as laid-back as a cobra. "You seem to be having trouble returning phone calls lately," he said.

"It's been crazy." She felt around under her desk with her bare foot for the stilettos she'd kicked off earlier. "I was just getting ready to call you."

"Five days too late."

"Stomach flu." As she located one shoe, she forced herself to remember everything she admired about him. He might be the stereotypical overbearing stage father, but he'd done a decent job raising Georgie. Unlike so many other child stars, Georgie had never needed a stint in rehab. She hadn't changed boyfriends every week or "forgotten" she wasn't wearing panties when she got out of a car. Paul had also been scrupulous about handling her money, taking only a modest management fee for himself so that he lived comfortably, but not ostentatiously. What he hadn't done was protect her from his own ambition.

He wandered over to the wall behind her office couch and took his time studying the plaques and photos on display-civic commendations, professional certificates, shots of her with various celebrities, none of whom she actually represented. Georgie was her only high-profile client and the major source of her income.

"I want Georgie in the Greenberg project," he said.

Somehow she kept her smile even. "The bimbo vampire story? An interesting idea." A horrible idea. A horrible idea.

"It's a great script," he said. "I was shocked at how clever it is."

"Genuinely funny," she agreed. "Everyone's talking about it."

"Georgie will bring a new dimension to the story."

Once again, Paul was ignoring his daughter's wishes. Revenge of the Bimbo Vampire, Revenge of the Bimbo Vampire, despite its funny premise and witty dialogue, represented exactly the kind of role Georgie wanted to get away from. despite its funny premise and witty dialogue, represented exactly the kind of role Georgie wanted to get away from.

Laura tapped her fingernails on her desk. "The part could have been written for her. I just wish Greenberg weren't so determined to have a dramatic actress play the lead."

"He only thinks he knows what he wants."

"You're probably right." She rolled her eyes. "He believes bringing in a serious dramatic actress will give the project more credibility."

"I didn't say this was going to be easy. Earn your fifteen percent and make him see her. Tell him she loves the script and wants to do it more than anything."

"Absolutely. I'll talk to him right away." How the h.e.l.l was she going to convince Greenberg to meet with Georgie? She had much more confidence in Paul's ability to steamroll his daughter into going after a part she didn't want.

"You know..." She'd only found one shoe, so she couldn't stand, which gave Paul the advantage of being able to tower over her desk. "They start shooting next month, and Georgie's demanded six months off."

"I'll take care of Georgie."

"She's basically on her honeymoon, and-"

"I said I'd take care of her. When you talk to Greenberg, don't let him forget how perfect her comic timing is and how much female audiences identify with her. You know the drill. And remind him about all the press she's getting. That's going to sell tickets."

Not necessarily. Georgie's success as a tabloid darling had never translated into big box office. She nudged the legal pad on her desk. "Yes, well...You know I'll do my best, but we have to remember this is Hollywood."

"No excuses. Make it happen, Laura. And make it happen quick." He gave her a curt nod and walked out.

Her head ached. She'd been so thrilled six years ago when Paul had chosen her instead of one of the other agents at Starlight to represent Georgie. She'd viewed it as her big break, belated recognition for a decade of hard work during which she'd been pa.s.sed over by a dozen young Ivy League hotshots with half her experience. She hadn't understood that she'd made a deal with the devil, a devil named Paul York.

Her dreams of becoming a Hollywood power player seemed laughable now. She didn't have the c.o.c.kiness of the other agents, or their flash. The only reason Paul had hired her was because he wanted a mouthpiece he could control, and the top Starlight agents wouldn't play his game. Her livelihood, which now included a luxury condo, depended on her ability to carry out Paul's wishes.

She used to pride herself on her integrity. Now she barely remembered what the word meant.

Over the next four days, Bram met with another potential investor, who was no more willing to gamble on him than the rest had been. Georgie took two more dance cla.s.ses, got an inch snipped off her hair, and worried about her future. When that became too depressing, she tried persuading Meg to go shopping. But Meg was wise to the ways of Hollywood. four days, Bram met with another potential investor, who was no more willing to gamble on him than the rest had been. Georgie took two more dance cla.s.ses, got an inch snipped off her hair, and worried about her future. When that became too depressing, she tried persuading Meg to go shopping. But Meg was wise to the ways of Hollywood.

"If I wanted my face plastered all over the pages of US Weekly, US Weekly, I'd go out with my parents. You guys chose this life. I didn't." I'd go out with my parents. You guys chose this life. I didn't."

Meg went horseback riding instead, and Georgie endured a difficult lunch with her father at L.A.'s newest luncheon hot spot, where they sat in a leather booth beneath a sheet metal chandelier.

"Revenge of the Bimbo Vampire is brilliantly written and really funny," he said, digging into his grilled steak salad. "You know how rare that is." is brilliantly written and really funny," he said, digging into his grilled steak salad. "You know how rare that is."

He pushed the bread basket at her, but she didn't have much appet.i.te. For the past two weeks, Chaz had been feeding her mountains of mac and cheese, slabs of lasagna. True, the edges of her bones had begun to lose their sharpness, and her cheeks had stopped looking like fatal cave-ins, but she was fairly certain that wasn't Chaz's intent.

"I'm sure it'll do amazingly well. But..." She poked at a bowl of lemon risotto and fought to hold on to her resolve. It was her life, her career, and she had to carve her own path. "I need a break from playing emotional lightweights. I've paid my dues, Dad, and I don't want to sign on for another comedy. I want something that'll challenge me, something I can get excited about."

She didn't bother bringing up the six-month vacation she'd fought for so fiercely. She needed to get back to work as soon as possible just to avoid spending so much time around Bram.

He leaned back in the booth. "Don't be a cliche, Georgie-another comic actress who wants to play Lady Macbeth. Do what you're good at."

She couldn't let herself cave. "How do I know I won't be good at other kinds of parts when I've never had a chance?"

"Do you have any idea how hard Laura is working to get you a meeting with Greenberg?"

"She should have talked to me first." As if Laura would even think about consulting her.

He took off his gla.s.ses and rubbed his eyes. He looked tired, which made her feel guilty. It hadn't been easy for him, widowed at twenty-five with a four-year-old to raise. He'd dedicated his life to her, and all she had to give him in return these days was resentment. He slipped his gla.s.ses back on and picked up his fork only to set it back down. "I'm guessing this laziness of yours-"

"That's not fair."

"This lack of focus, then, is Bram's influence, and frankly, it scares me that he's pa.s.sing his unprofessional att.i.tude on to you."

"Bram doesn't have anything to do with it."

As she pushed around her risotto, she waited for him to point out how much more cooperative she'd been during her marriage to Lance. Her father and Lance had seen eye to eye about everything, so much so that she'd often thought Lance should have been his kid instead of her.

But Paul was picking his battles. "They're planning to release Bimbo Vampire Bimbo Vampire over the Fourth of July weekend next year. A perfect summer movie. It has blockbuster written all over it." over the Fourth of July weekend next year. A perfect summer movie. It has blockbuster written all over it."

"Not if I'm in it."

"Don't do that, Georgie. Negative thoughts bring negative results."

"Cake Walk is going to tank. We both know it." is going to tank. We both know it."

"I agree they made some bad decisions, and that's why you need to have your name linked with Bimbo Vampire Bimbo Vampire as soon as possible. All this publicity has given you a window of opportunity that won't come again. If you pa.s.s on this, you'll regret it the rest of your life." as soon as possible. All this publicity has given you a window of opportunity that won't come again. If you pa.s.s on this, you'll regret it the rest of your life."

She suppressed her anger by reminding herself that her father always looked out for her best interests. From the beginning, he'd been her staunchest champion. If she lost out on a part, he'd tell her the casting agents were the losers. That was the thing about him. He'd always done his best to protect her. He'd even refused to let her take the starring role of a child prost.i.tute when she was twelve. If only his protectiveness had been rooted in love instead of ambition.

Once again, she considered how things might have been different if she hadn't lost her mother. "Dad...If Mom hadn't died, do you think you'd have gone on with your own acting career?"

"Who knows? It's useless to speculate."

"I know, but..." The risotto was too salty, and she pushed it aside. "Tell me again how you met."

He sighed. "We met in college our senior year. I was playing Becket in Murder in the Cathedral, Murder in the Cathedral, and she interviewed me for the college newspaper. Attraction of opposites. She was a complete scatterbrain." and she interviewed me for the college newspaper. Attraction of opposites. She was a complete scatterbrain."

"Did you love her?"

"Georgie, it was a long time ago. We need to focus on now."

"Did you?"

"Very much." The impatient way he bit out the words told Georgie he was only saying what he knew she wanted to hear.

As she gazed down at her uneaten risotto, she found it ironic that she'd grown more comfortable with her disreputable husband than with her own father. But then she didn't care about Bram's opinion.

Maybe one of these days she'd stop caring about her father's.

Before the end of their lunch, Georgie's guilt got the better of her, and she invited him to dinner that weekend. She'd ask Trev, too, and make Meg stick around. Maybe she'd even call Laura. Her puppet agent was good at keeping conversations going, and with Bram and her father tossing darts at each other, she'd need a mediator.

Chaz threw a fit when Georgie told her she intended to hire a caterer. "My meals have always been good enough for Bram and his friends," she declared, "but I guess you're too high cla.s.s."

"Fine!" Georgie retorted. "If you want to cook, then cook. I was only trying to make it easy on you."

"Then tell Aaron he has to help me serve."

"I'll do that." She had to ask: "What friends of Bram's did you cook for? He doesn't seem to have a lot of people hanging around."

"Sure he does. I cooked for his girl girlfriends. For Trevor. And he had that big director guy, that Mr. Peters, over a couple of months ago."

Hank Peters really had met with him. Interesting.

The bad publicity from the balcony photos finally began to die down, but she and Bram needed to make another public appearance before it started up again. On Thursday, two days before the dinner party, they visited Pinkberry in West Hollywood. Bram hadn't commented on their lack of a s.e.x life in days. It was disconcerting. He behaved as if s.e.x weren't even an issue, except he couldn't seem to keep his shirt on, and he touched her arm whenever he went by. Georgie had started to feel as if she were burning up. from the balcony photos finally began to die down, but she and Bram needed to make another public appearance before it started up again. On Thursday, two days before the dinner party, they visited Pinkberry in West Hollywood. Bram hadn't commented on their lack of a s.e.x life in days. It was disconcerting. He behaved as if s.e.x weren't even an issue, except he couldn't seem to keep his shirt on, and he touched her arm whenever he went by. Georgie had started to feel as if she were burning up.

He was playing her.

The West Hollywood Pinkberry had become a celebrity favorite, which meant the paps always hung around. Georgie chose navy slacks and a scooped-neck white blouse with a row of six retro red plastic b.u.t.tons down the front. It had taken her an hour to get ready. Bram was still in the jeans and T-shirt he'd pulled on that morning.

Georgie ordered her frozen yogurt topped with fresh blueberries and mango. Bram grumbled about wanting a d.a.m.ned Dairy Queen and didn't get anything. As they came out of the shop, the half a dozen photographers who'd gathered sprang to attention.

"Georgie! Bram! We haven't seen you guys in a few days. Where have you been?"

"We're newlyweds," Bram shot back. "Where do you think?"

"Georgie, anything you want to say about Jade Gentry's miscarriage?"

"Have you talked to Lance?"