“All you had to do was say no.”
“Then you walked out. As soon as it was over.”
“I was never going to fall in love with you, Georgie. I’d done everything I could to make that obvious, but you wouldn’t take the hint. At least that night put an end to it.”
“Don’t you dare act as though you did me a favor! You wanted to get off and I was handy. You took advantage of a stupid kid who thought you were romantic and mysterious when you were really just an egotistical, self- centered ass. We’re enemies. We were then, and we still are.”
“Fine by me.”
As he stormed off, she told herself she’d said exactly what she needed to. But nothing could change the past, and she didn’t feel one bit better.
Chapter 8
Georgie swam for nearly an hour the next morning in the sheltered pool. Yesterday she’d let him see how much he’d hurt her, and displaying that kind of vulnerability was a luxury she couldn’t repeat. Not anymore.
As she was getting out, she heard a voice coming from the path that ran behind the shrubbery. “Settle down, Caitlin…Yeah, I know. Have a little faith, sweetheart…”
Bram moved on before Georgie could hear any more. As she wrapped herself in a towel, she wondered who Caitlin was and how long it would be before Bram sought out one of his mystery women for extramarital sex.
She combed her wet hair with her fingers, tucked the towel under her arms, and went inside to rummage through the refrigerator. As she pulled out a carton of blueberry yogurt, Chaz came in and dropped a pile of mail on the center island. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of the refrigerator. Everything’s organized the way I like it.”
“I won’t move anything I don’t eat.” Chaz was a monumental pain in the ass, but Georgie still felt sorry for her. She didn’t really believe Chaz was Bram’s lover, but she did believe Chaz was in love with him. Remembering the pain of that particular disease, she took a fresh tack. “Tell me about yourself, Chaz. Did you grow up around here?”
“No.” Chaz pulled a mixing bowl from the cupboard.
She tried again. “I can’t cook much of anything. How did you learn?”
Chaz slapped the cupboard door closed. “I don’t have time to talk. I need to get a head start on Bram’s lunch.”
“What’s on the menu?”
“A special salad he likes.”
“Fine by me.”
Chaz grabbed the dishcloth. “I can’t cook for both of you. I already have too much to do. If you don’t want me to quit, you’ll have to take care of yourself.”
Georgie licked the inside of the yogurt lid. “Who said I don’t want you to quit?”
Chaz’s face flushed with anger. Georgie understood, but Chaz’s hostility was making an already awful situation that much worse. She pulled a spoon from the drawer. “Make lunch for two, Chaz. That’s an order.”
“I take my orders from Bram. He said he’d never interfere with how I did my job.”
“He wasn’t married when he said that, but now he is, and your Godzilla act is getting old fast. You have two choices. You can play nice, or I’ll hire my own staff, and you’ll have to share your kitchen. Somehow I don’t think you’d like that.”
She and her yogurt headed back outside.
As Georgie’s footsteps faded, Chaz pressed her fists to her belly, trying to hold in all the hatred that wanted to spill out. Georgie York had everything. She was rich and famous. She had great clothes and a big career. Now she had Bram, and only Chaz was supposed to take care of him.
Outside the kitchen windows a hummingbird flew onto the veranda. Chaz grabbed a paper towel and opened the refrigerator door. The milk wasn’t where she’d left it, and a couple of the yogurt containers had fallen over. Even the eggs were on the wrong side of the shelf.
She straightened everything and wiped a smudge from the door. She couldn’t stand the idea of another person in her kitchen. In her house. She pitched the paper towel into the trash. Georgie wasn’t even that pretty, not like the women Bram went out with. She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve anything she had. Everybody knew she was only famous because her old man had made her a star. Georgie had grown up with everybody kissing her ass and telling her she was hot shit. Nobody had ever kissed Chaz’s ass. Not once.
Chaz gazed around her kitchen. The sunlight coming through the six narrow windows made the blue accents in the tiles sparkle. This was her favorite place in the world, even better than her apartment over the garage, and Georgie wanted to wedge her way in.
She still couldn’t believe Bram hadn’t told her he was getting married. That hurt the most of all. But something wasn’t exactly right. He didn’t treat Georgie the way Chaz had imagined he’d treat a woman he loved. Chaz made up her mind to figure out exactly why that was.
Georgie stayed out of sight while Aaron supervised the movers unloading her things. By late afternoon, he had her office set up, and she’d unpacked the wardrobe boxes that had taken over her bedroom but held only the clothes that weren’t in storage. By the time Aaron left, the walls had closed around her. Even though her Prius sat outside in the driveway, she couldn’t go anywhere by herself, not the fourth day of her marriage, when every photographer in town was staking out the house. She settled down to try to read.
Much later Bram found her standing by her bedroom balcony doors giving herself an internal pep talk about things like independence and self-identity. “Let’s drive to the beach,” he said. “I’m going stir-crazy.”
“It’ll be dark soon.”
“Who cares?” He rubbed his knuckles over his golden beard stubble. “I’ve already smoked two packs of cigarettes. I need to get out.”
So did she, even if she had to go with him. “Have you been drinking?”
“No, damn it! But I will be if I’m stuck here much longer. Now do you want to go or not?”
“Give me twenty minutes.”
As soon as he left, she consulted the “Super Casual” section of the three-ring binder Aaron kept updated with Polaroid photos of all the pieces in Georgie’s wardrobe, accompanied by April’s instructions on how they fit together. Maybe one day Georgie would have the luxury of leaving the house without worrying about how she looked, but she couldn’t do it now. She chose her Rock & Republic jeans, a corset top, and a simple Michael Kors kimono cardigan that April had noted would “pull the look together.”
Georgie was capable of dressing herself, but April did a better job of it. The public had no idea how clueless most celebrity fashion icons were, and how much they depended on their stylists. Georgie was forever grateful that April continued to help her out.
The paps waited for them at the end of the driveway like a pack of hungry dogs. As Bram pulled out, they stormed his Audi. He maneuvered through, but half a dozen black SUVs quickly fell into place behind them. “I feel like we’re leading a funeral cortege,” she said. “Just once I’d like to be able to walk out of the house with bad hair and no makeup and go someplace without getting my picture taken.”
He glanced in the rearview mirror. “There’s nothing worse than a celebrity complaining about the hardships of fame.”
“I’ve been dealing with this ever since Lance and I started to date. You’ve only had to put up with it for a few days.”
“Hey, I get photographed.”
“Sex videos don’t count. And let’s see how cheery you are after another couple months of this.”
He braked for a stop sign, and they were nearly rear-ended, so she left him alone to concentrate on his driving.
The traffic was only moderately horrendous, and their entourage stayed with them all the way to Malibu. Several more SUVs joined the funeral procession, even though the paps had surely figured out Bram was headed for
