What I Did For Love Part 36

Every morning for a week, she donned an oversize T-shirt and a pair of baggy capris, then slipped on big sungla.s.ses and a wide straw hat to walk for miles unrecognized along the beach. In the afternoons, she edited film and tried to make peace with her sadness.

Bram was furious with her for disappearing, and his telephone messages had ripped out her heart.

I swear to G.o.d, I am not in love with you...Friendship. That's all it is. I promise.

As for his second message about blackmailing him to have a baby...She deleted that halfway through.

Her father knew where she was. She'd finally told him the truth about Las Vegas and a little bit about why she'd needed to get away. Naturally, he'd tried to blame Bram, but she wouldn't let him, and she made him promise not to contact him. "Just give me some time, Dad, okay?" He'd reluctantly agreed.

A day later her father had called with a piece of news that left her reeling. "I did some investigating. Bram hasn't touched a penny of the money you were supposed to be paying him. It turns out, he doesn't need it."

"Of course, he does. Everybody knows he blew through all his Skip and Scooter Skip and Scooter money." money."

"'Blow' pretty much describes it. But when he finally got clean and sober, he downscaled his lifestyle and started investing his residuals. He's done shockingly well for himself. He even paid off the mortgage on his house."

It was ironic. The only thing Bram hadn't deceived her about was his feelings for her. Friendship. And there it stopped.

She found herself staring at nothing, or picking up a book and reading the same sentence over and over. But she didn't cry as she had with Lance. This time, her sadness ran too deep for tears. The only activity that interested her involved taking a camera down to one of the luxury resorts and interviewing the maids. Since she couldn't endure that kind of public exposure, she set up her camera on the shady white stone patio and interviewed herself.

"Tell me, Georgie. Have you always been a loser in love?"

"More or less. How about yourself?"

"More or less. And why do you think that is?"

"A pathetic need to be loved?"

"And you're blaming that on...what? Your childhood relationship with your father?"

"Let's."

"So it's ultimately your father's fault you fell in love with Bram Shepard?"

"No," she whispered. "It's my fault. I knew falling in love with him was impossible, but I had to go and do it anyway."

"You gave up your audition and a chance to play Helene."

"How about that. What a woman will do for love, right?"

"Stupid."

"What was I supposed to do? Work with him every day, then go home with him at night?"

"What you should do is make your career your first priority."

"I don't care about my career right now. I haven't even hired a new agent. I only care about..."

"Being miserable?"

"A few months and I'll be over him."

"Do you really believe that?"

No, she didn't believe it. She loved Bram in a clear-eyed way she'd never loved her ex-husband, no rose-colored gla.s.ses or mindless giddiness, no Cinderella fantasies or false certainty that he'd put her life in order. What she felt for Bram was messy, honest, and soul-deep. He felt like...part of her, the best and the worst. Like someone she wanted to struggle through life with; share triumphs and catastrophes; share holidays, birthdays, every days.

"Excellent," her interviewer said. "I've finally made you cry. Just like Barbara Walters."

Georgie turned off the camera and buried her face in her hands.

Georgie had been gone almost two weeks, and Aaron was Bram's only source of information. Georgie's P.A. had taken it upon himself to leak a series of fict.i.tious stories to the tabs. He'd detailed Georgie's decision to take a vacation while Bram worked and also served up long descriptions of romantic phone calls between the newlyweds. Aaron's fabrications kept the press at bay, so Bram didn't correct them. gone almost two weeks, and Aaron was Bram's only source of information. Georgie's P.A. had taken it upon himself to leak a series of fict.i.tious stories to the tabs. He'd detailed Georgie's decision to take a vacation while Bram worked and also served up long descriptions of romantic phone calls between the newlyweds. Aaron's fabrications kept the press at bay, so Bram didn't correct them.

Tree House continued to move forward without any major snarls, even though they still hadn't finished casting. He should have been on top of the world, but he mainly wanted to look up his old drug dealer. He buried himself in work instead, to keep the devils at bay. continued to move forward without any major snarls, even though they still hadn't finished casting. He should have been on top of the world, but he mainly wanted to look up his old drug dealer. He buried himself in work instead, to keep the devils at bay.

Chaz was waiting for him on Monday night when he got home from the studio, a new supply of cookbooks spread out on the kitchen table instead of the GED workbooks she still hadn't opened. She jumped up as he appeared. "I'll make a sandwich for you. A good one, with whole grain bread, turkey, and guacamole. I'll bet all you've eaten today is junk."

"I don't want anything, and I told you not to wait up for me."

She bustled over to the refrigerator. "It isn't even midnight."

Long experience had taught him the futility of arguing with Chaz about food, so even though all he wanted to do was sleep, he hung around and pretended to sift through some mail on the counter while she pulled containers from the refrigerator and filled him in on her life. "Aaron's being a pain. He and Becky split up-they haven't even been together three weeks. He said they're too much alike. But that should be a good thing, right?"

"Not always." Bram gazed blindly at a party invitation, then tossed it in the trash. He and Georgie were more alike than they were different, although it had taken him a while to figure that out.

Chaz slapped a container on the counter so hard the lip popped off. "Aaron knows where Georgie is."

"Yeah, I know he does. So does her father."

"You should make them tell you."

"Why? I'm not running after her." Besides, Bram already knew she'd gone to Cabo, thanks to a phone conversation with Trev, who was in Australia shooting his new film. Bram had thought about flying to Mexico and dragging her back, but she'd stung his pride. Bottom line-she was the one who'd left, and it was up to her to come back and make things right.

Chaz put a loaf of bread on the cutting board and began slicing it, her knife coming down with hard thwacks thwacks. "I know why you guys got married."

He looked up.

She flipped the lid on a container of guacamole. "You should have been honest about what happened in Vegas and gotten the stupid marriage annulled or whatever. Like Britney Spears did that first time she got married."

"How do you know what happened?"

"I overheard you and Georgie talking about it."

"You overheard with your ear smashed against a keyhole. If you ever say anything to anybody..."

She slammed the cupboard door shut. "Is that what you think of me? That I'm some big a.s.shole blabbermouth?"

Now he had two p.i.s.sed-off females in his life, but getting back in Chaz's good graces was relatively easy. "No, I don't think that. Sorry."

She chewed over his apology but eventually decided to accept it, as he'd known she would. He sat down in front of the food she'd put out. He didn't want to end his phony marriage yet. It held too many advantages-starting with s.e.x, which was so great he couldn't imagine giving it up yet. Thanks to Georgie, he was back in the game, and he intended to stay there. He wanted Tree House Tree House to be the first in a string of great films, and somehow she'd become an intricate part of making that happen. to be the first in a string of great films, and somehow she'd become an intricate part of making that happen.

Chaz set his sandwich in front of him. "I still can't believe she didn't audition. She goes to all that work and then blows it off. You wouldn't believe the way she made Aaron run around to get her a special outfit. Then she kept making me check out different hairstyles and makeup. She even made me tape her stupid audition. Then she turns chicken and runs away."

He set down his sandwich. "You taped her audition?"

"You know how she is. She tapes everything. I probably shouldn't say this, but if she ever made any s.e.x tapes of you, I seriously think you should-"

"Is the tape still around?"

"I don't know. I guess. Probably in her office."

He started to get up, then sat back in his chair. Screw it. He knew exactly what he'd see.

But before he went to bed that night, his curiosity got the best of him, and he searched her office until he found what he was looking for.

They had their first tussle over the check. "Give it to me," Laura said, genuinely surprised to see Paul grab the check before she could reach for it. They'd dined together more times than she could count, and she always picked up the check. "This is a business dinner. The client never pays." first tussle over the check. "Give it to me," Laura said, genuinely surprised to see Paul grab the check before she could reach for it. They'd dined together more times than she could count, and she always picked up the check. "This is a business dinner. The client never pays."

"It was a business dinner for the first hour," Paul said. "After that, I'm not so sure."

She fumbled for her napkin. It was true that tonight had been different. They'd never talked about their high school embarra.s.sments before, or their mutual love of music and baseball. And he'd certainly never insisted on picking her up at her new condo. All evening, she'd been doing her best to keep things professional, but he kept sabotaging her. Something had happened. Something she needed to make un-happen as quickly as possible.

She held out her hand for the bill. "Paul, I insist. This is a well-deserved celebration. You've only been my client for six weeks, and you've landed a great part." He'd been cast in a quirky new HBO series about a group of Vietnam, Gulf, and Iraqi War veterans who spent their weekends as Civil War reenactors.

He set his palm over the leather folder that contained the check. "I'll give this to you. But only if next weekend's on me."

Had he just asked her out? She was too old for games. "Did you just ask me out?"

He tilted his head, a vaguely amused smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Did I?"

"No, you didn't."

"And why's that?"

"Because I'm not thin."

"Ahh."

"Or blond, or elegant, or divorced from a former high-ranking studio executive. I have no time for a personal trainer, I don't wear clothes well, and getting my hair done bores the h.e.l.l out of me." She crossed her legs. "But most of all, I'm your agent, and I'm planning to make a lot of money off your career."

"So will you go out with me next weekend anyway?"

"No!"

"Too bad." The waiter appeared, and Paul pa.s.sed over his credit card. A director they both knew stopped at their table to chat, and by the time the valet had delivered Paul's car, Laura a.s.sumed the subject was behind them. Paul quickly proved her wrong.

"The L.A. Chamber Orchestra is playing at Royce Hall next weekend," he said as they drove off from the restaurant. "I think we should go. Unless you'd rather take in a Dodgers game."

Two of her favorite activities. "I don't get this. You're the consummate professional. You know I can't date a client, especially such an important client."

"I like that 'important' part."

"I mean it. You're going to have a great career, and I want to negotiate every phase of it."

He turned north onto Beverly Glen Boulevard. "If you weren't my agent, would you date me?"

In a New York minute. "Probably not. We're too different." "Probably not. We're too different."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because you're cool and logical. You like order. How long has it been since you've forgotten to pay your cable bill or splashed wine on your clothes?" She pointed toward the small red splotch on the skirt of her silk shift. At the same time she covered up a recent snag. She wanted to make her point without looking like a total slob.

"That's one of the things I like about you," he said. "You get so wrapped up in a conversation you forget to pay attention to what you're doing. You're a good listener, Laura."

And so was he. The intent way he'd locked in on her tonight made her feel like the most fascinating woman on earth. "I don't get this," she said. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Not all that sudden. You were my date for the wedding party, remember?"

"That was business."

"Was it?"

"I thought it was."

"You thought wrong," he said. "That day you cornered me, you shook me loose from my moorings. You made me open my eyes about Georgie, and nothing's been the same since." The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm fairly tightly wound. You're a very relaxing woman, Laura Moody. You unwind me. Oh, and I also like your body."

Laura burst out laughing. Where had all this charm come from? Wasn't it enough that he was intelligent, great-looking, and much nicer than she'd ever imagined? "You're so full of it."

He grinned and turned onto a narrow side street that ran above the Stone Canyon Reservoir. "You gave me my daughter back. You gave me a new career. I'm almost afraid to say it, but for the first time in longer than I can remember, I'm happy."

The interior of his Lexus was suddenly too small. It grew even more intimate as he swung onto a dark, unpaved road, pulled the car into the scrub, and lowered the windows. She sat up straighter as he killed the engine. "Any reason you're stopping here?"

"I'm hoping we can make out."

"You've got to be kidding."

"Look at it from my viewpoint. I've been wanting to touch you all evening. I'd definitely prefer the comfort of a nice couch, but I can hardly expect you to invite me in if you won't even agree to a date. So I'm improvising."

"Paul, I'm your agent! Call me crazy, but I have a policy of not making out with my clients."

"I understand. If I were you, I'd have the same policy. Let's do it anyway. Just to see what happens."

She knew what would happen. Oh, G.o.d, did she ever. His s.e.xual magnetism had become more difficult to ignore every time they were together, but she had no intention of s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up her already screwed-up career. "Let's not."