Page 117 of What I Did for Love
“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 glasses 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 beengone 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 fictitious 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 Housecontinued 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 hardthwacks. “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 asshole blabbermouth?”
