What I Did for Love (25 page)

“Apparently you weren’t eavesdropping hard enough or you’d know that’s exactly what I was doing.”

“By lecturing and criticizing? You don’t approve of what she wants to do with her career. You don’t like her taste in men. Exactly what do you like about her? Other than her earning power.”

His face flushed with fury. She didn’t know which of them was more shocked. She was ruining everything she’d taken so many years to build. She had to beg his forgiveness, but she was too sick of herself to find the right words.

“You just stepped way over the line,” he said.

“I know. I’m—I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You’re damned right you shouldn’t have.”

But instead of rushing away from him before she could do any more damage, her feet remained stubbornly in place. “I’ve never understood why you seem so disapproving of her. She’s a terrific woman. She might not have the best taste in men, although I have to say Bram has been a pleasant surprise, but…She’s warm and generous. How many actors do you know who try to make life easier for the people around them? She’s smart as a whip, and interested in everything. If she were my daughter, I’d want to enjoy her instead of always behaving as though she needs to be made over.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But she could see he understood exactly what she meant.

“Why don’t you just have fun with her sometimes? Goof off. Do something that doesn’t involve business. Play a card game, splash around in the pool.”

“How about a trip to Disneyland?” he said caustically.

“How about it?” she tossed back.

“Georgie’s thirty-one, not five.”

“Did you do those things with her when she was five?”

“Her mother had just died, so I was a little preoccupied,” he snapped.

“That must have been horrible.”

“I was the best father I knew how to be.”

She saw real pain in his eyes, but it didn’t stir her compassion.
“Here’s what bothers me, Paul…If I don’t understand how much you love her, how’s she supposed to?”

“That’s enough. More than enough. If this is all the respect you have for our professional relationship, then maybe we need to reassess where we are.”

Her stomach twisted. She could still salvage this. She could plead illness, insanity, SARS…But she didn’t do any of it. Instead, she squared her shoulders and stepped off the veranda.

Her heart pounded as she made her way back to the guesthouse. She thought about her killer mortgage, about what would happen to her reputation if she lost her star client, about how badly, how
catastrophically,
she’d screwed up. So why didn’t she run back and apologize?

Because a good agent—a great agent—served her client well, and for the first time, Laura felt as though she’d done exactly that.

All
day Bram watched the human chess game being played out in front of him as helicopters circled overhead. He observed Georgie doing her best to stay away from Lance, Jade, and her father, while Paul barely spoke to anyone. He saw Chaz pandering to Lance and Jade but remaining her customary pain in the ass to Georgie and Aaron. Meg helped out in the kitchen, sneered at Lance whenever he passed by, and acted as if Jade were invisible. Laura assumed the role of a nervous Switzerland, trying to move neutrally among all warring nations. And everybody sucked up to Rory, including himself.

With the possible exception of Chaz, Bram decided, he was the only one happy about the quarantine. He’d planned to pitch to Rory last night only to have Lance show up, but now he had the rest of the weekend to get her alone, and she couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

Between the helicopters and the snake incident, no one wanted to go in the pool. A few of them congregated in the kitchen, and he noticed Georgie beginning to mess around again with the video camera. Chaz started to bristle, and he quickly stepped in. “Georgie, why don’t you practice your interviewing techniques on Laura? A female agent in the Hollywood shark pool and all that.”

“I don’t want to talk to Laura. I want to talk to Chaz again.”

“Only because the housecleaners aren’t here,” Chaz sneered. “She
loves
talking to them.”

It was unusual for him to feel like the only adult in the room. “How about interviewing Aaron then,” he said with what seemed to him great reasonableness.

“I’m not interested in talking to men,” Georgie snapped. “Fine. I’ll interview you.”

“Make him take off his clothes,” Meg piped up from the kitchen table. “It’ll spice things up.”

“Great idea,” he said. “Let’s do it in the bedroom.”

Georgie finally recalled her role of loving wife. “Don’t tantalize me like that when we have company.”

A series of semipornographic images flashed through his head. Who’d have figured Georgie would turn out to be such a firecracker? From the beginning, her sexual bossiness had turned him on. Unlike other women, she didn’t give a damn about arousing him, and somehow that only aroused him more. The sex part of this phony marriage had turned out to be a lot more fun than he could have imagined. So much fun that he’d started to feel a little uneasy. He only had room for one person in his life, and that was himself. Chaz had been an accident.

By late afternoon, everyone’s cell phones and PDAs were running out of power. Only Rory, who’d had a charger and a spare phone included in the package left by the gate, continued to work. Laura announced that being without a phone was making her hyperventilate, and she asked Georgie to sing, but there was no piano in the house, and Georgie declined. As much as he teased her about her Annie past, she was fun to listen to with her big voice and inexhaustible energy. Maybe he’d get a piano in here to surprise her.

Jade settled in his library with a book on international economics, Georgie disappeared with Aaron, and the others drifted off to the screening room. Bram headed out to his office with a glass of extra-strong iced tea, a less harmful addiction than his earlier ones.

He picked up the script his agent had sent over. With all the publicity from his marriage, he was seeing a few more scripts than he used to, but the parts hadn’t changed: playboys, gigolos, an occasional drug dealer. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen something that wasn’t a piece of crap, and after reading only a few pages, he realized this was no different. He wanted a cigarette, but he took a slug of iced tea instead, checked his e-mail, then headed back to the house so he could get down to the real work of the day.

Rory had moved her center of operations to a corner of the veranda. Even though it was Sunday, she’d been on her phone all afternoon, making and destroying careers, but now she was hunkered over her laptop. He wandered to the table where she was working and, without waiting for an invitation that wouldn’t come, took the chair across from her.

“As much as I appreciate your hospitality,” she said without looking up, “unless you want to talk about the weather, you’re wasting your time.”

“I guess that’s better than wasting Vortex’s money.”

She looked up.

He extended his legs and settled back in the chair, playing it cool, even though his guts were in a knot. “You’re one of the smartest women in town. But right now you’re being stupid.”

“It’s usually best to begin a pitch with flattery.”

“You don’t need flattery. You know exactly how good you are. But your personal grudge against me is getting in the way of your normally excellent judgment.”

“In your opinion.”

“Caitlin Carter has gotten greedy. If you wait until my option expires, you’re going to spend a lot more money for
Tree House
than you will now. How are you going to explain that to your board of directors?”

“I’ll risk it. And you’re the one who’s being stupid. If you turn
over
Tree House
now, without any restrictions, you’re guaranteed a credit as associate producer—”

“Meaningless.”

“—and you’ll actually make money on your initial investment. But if you stay stubborn, you’ll end up with nothing. I can get that picture made. What more do you want?”

“I want the picture that’s in my head to get made.” He fought to stay cool, but this meant too much, and he could feel himself losing it. “I want to play Danny Grimes. I want a guarantee Hank Peters will direct.” He came out of his chair. “I want to be on the set every day making sure the script I’m delivering is the one that gets shot instead of some studio asshole stepping in and deciding he wants to add a fucking
car chase.
”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“You have a studio to run. You wouldn’t even notice.”

She rubbed her eyes. “Bram, you’re asking too much. To put it bluntly, you’re only known for three things:
Skip and Scooter,
a sex tape, and being an undependable party boy. I’m starting to believe Georgie when she says you’ve outgrown that last one, but you haven’t scored big with anything since the show ended. Can you really imagine me going to my board and telling them I’ve entrusted a project like
Tree House
to you?”

“I have a fucking vision! Can’t you understand that?” The veins in his neck throbbed. “I know exactly how this film should be made. What it should look like. How it should feel. I’m the
only
one who can deliver the movie you want. Is that so hard to understand?”

She gave him a long, steady gaze. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I can’t do it.”

The genuine regret in her voice told him he’d finally reached the end of the road. He’d done everything he could to convince her, and he’d lost. He was shocked to realize his hands were shaking, but somehow he managed a shrug. He wasn’t going to beg.

His office offered the only refuge in this overcrowded house,
but as he turned away, a movement near the door caught his attention. It was Georgie. Even from fifteen feet away, he could see the concern in her furrowed brow and the pity in those green eyes.

She’d overheard every word. He hated that nearly as much as he hated losing his dream.

Dinner was torture. Lance kept trying to charm his way back into Paul’s good graces, but Paul remained unresponsive. Jade launched into a powerful lecture about the child sex industry that left all of them depressed and guilty. Georgie barely spoke, Rory seemed preoccupied, and Laura kept darting anxious glances at Paul and Georgie. Bram’d be damned if he’d let Rory see she’d beaten him, so he forced himself to tease Meg, the only person at the table who didn’t look as though she’d rather be anywhere else.

The helicopters finally flew away for the day. Chaz served a gooey caramel dessert so rich that only Georgie ate her entire portion, forking it down with a dogged determination Bram didn’t entirely understand. Jade, who didn’t seem to care much about food, left hers untouched and, when Chaz reappeared, ordered a quarter of an apple. Her demand must really have pissed off Georgie because she hopped up from the table and slipped into her Scooter Brown act. “It’s barely eight o’clock. Let’s all go into the living room. I have a special entertainment planned.”

That was news to him. Bad news. All he wanted to do was escape.

“I’m not playing charades,” Meg said. “Or any other game you actors like to play.”

Laura and Rory looked pained, but Georgie wasn’t giving up. “I have something a little more interesting in mind.”

“Hold it right there,” Bram said, determined to make sure Rory understood she hadn’t gotten to him. “You promised you’d never let anybody see you dance naked except me.”

“No dances,” she replied, without missing a beat. “The last time I worked the pole I pulled a tendon.”

Even Paul cracked a smile, and all the women laughed except Jade, but Bram had the feeling life weighed too heavily on her to take anything lightly. Lance immediately grew solemn in support of his wife. What a dick.

As everyone else cleared the table, Jade demanded Chaz make a second pot of mint tea because the first wasn’t hot enough. He was getting the idea that Jade preferred directing her humanitarian instincts to the world at large while ignoring the people waiting on her. Eventually Georgie, still doing the chipper act, herded them into the living room and assigned seats, giving Bram the armchair by the fireplace. She pointed Rory toward the couch next to him and arranged the others in a fashion that might have made sense to her but not to anyone else. He wished like hell she’d consulted him before she began playing her little parlor games.

And then Aaron came in with a pile of scripts, and it all became clear.

Georgie handed the first script to him. “Surprise, honey.”

He gazed down at the cover. It was
Tree House.
What did she think she was doing?

“Some of you may have heard by now that Bram has optioned Sarah Carter’s
Tree House.
”

That caused more than a few heads to shoot up.

Georgie’s hand dropped to his shoulder. “But as far as I know, he’s never heard it read, so this afternoon I had Aaron make copies for us. With all this amazing talent in one place, I think we should give our host a treat, don’t you?”

All this amazing talent in one place…And Rory Keene sitting next to him. Georgie had thrown the dice. She didn’t want him to give up, even after the conversation she’d overheard. She’d arranged the ultimate audition for him.

And then he woke up.

She wasn’t doing this for him. She was doing it for herself.

He saw exactly how she hoped this would play out. She knew Rory would snap up his option the moment it expired, and she intended to use tonight as a private audition to get the inside track on Helene.

A ballsy plan, he thought bitterly, even though it wouldn’t work. Georgie didn’t have it in her to play that part. She dug her fingers into his shoulder. “Honey, if you don’t mind, I’ll play casting director.”

He had to hand it to her. She was doing exactly what he’d have done under the circumstances. So why did he feel so disappointed?

Because he was the selfish jerk, not her.

She began passing out scripts. “Bram, you’ll read Danny Grimes, of course. Dad, why don’t you take Frank, Danny’s dying father? Lance, you’re Ken, the abusive next-door neighbor. Playing the bad guy will be such a nice change for you. Jade, you read Marcie, Ken’s doormat wife.”

The most thankless role.

She held a script out to Laura. “Call on your inner child and read Izzy, their five-year-old. And Meg, you read Natalie, the home care nurse who’s Danny’s love interest, but don’t get any ideas.”

“I’m not an actress.”

“Pretend.”

He couldn’t blame Georgie for wanting a shot at Helene. It was the kind of role that turned careers around. But Helene needed an actress like Jade, who’d cut her teeth on strong characters. Even in a cold read, Jade would be fantastic, something Georgie knew as well as he did, which was why she’d assigned Marcie to her.

Georgie took a straight chair at the opposite end of the living room. “Aaron’s agreed to pick up the slack with the leftover male characters. I’ll read the action and handle the female leftovers.”

Helene was hardly a leftover. His confusion turned to shock as
Georgie handed Rory a script. “You never get to have any fun. You read Helene.”

“Me?”

“Try out your acting chops,” she said with a bright smile.

“I don’t think I have any.”

“Who cares? This is just for fun.”

He didn’t get it. Why had she chickened out? He could come up with only one explanation, and something like panic tripped through him. She was giving him the audition instead of taking it for herself.

Damn it! He hadn’t asked for this. She must have decided Rory would be more invested in the project if she read such a key part. Or, even more disturbing, maybe she wanted to keep the spotlight focused on him, instead of herself. Whatever her logic, Little Miss Scooter Brown was once again flying around sprinkling her goddamned fairy dust.

He started to sweat. She was so fucking stupid. When was she going to realize she needed to look out for herself? If she wanted to change the course of her career, she should be going after what she wanted and to hell with everybody else. He’d never have made this kind of sacrifice for her. But she didn’t care. Because Georgie York was a fucking team player.

She crossed her legs. “Bram, talk a little bit about the script before we start, will you? Give everyone an idea of what you want from them.”

He hadn’t prepped, and he was shaken. If he blew it, he wouldn’t get another chance, but he couldn’t pull his thoughts together. “A few of you…Some of you have…uh…probably read the book. Most of you, probably. You know it’s a—” He forced himself to get a grip. “It’s a beautiful story. A beautiful script—maybe better than the book.” The words began to come more easily. “Since this is a cold read for everyone, let it be what it is. Don’t try to push your
character beyond what you see on the page. Strip it down and read it naked. First…”