Paul set down his fork and addressed Bram for the first time. “With Georgie barefoot and pregnant, it’ll be tough to support your current lifestyle.” He gave a short laugh, an unconvincing attempt to pass off his comment as a joke.
This was exactly what Bram had warned her would happen, but he merely kicked back in his chair and offered up a lazy grin. “Georgie’s healthy as a horse. They can shoot her from the chest up. Hell, I’ll bet she could have a baby and be back on the job the next day. What do you think, sweetheart?”
“Or I could just squat in the middle of the set and give birth right there.”
Bram winked. “That’s the spirit.”
“The unions wouldn’t put up with it,” Trevor said. “A violation of their labor contract.”
Meg groaned.
Bram had won that round, and her father looked sulky as he turned his attention to his plate. Trev told a funny story about his current costar. They all laughed, but a shadow had crept across Georgie’s heart. She wished Bram hadn’t brought up children. She either had to give up the idea of having a baby or find the courage to go it alone. And why not? Fathers were vastly overrated. She could go to a sperm bank, or…
No.
For dessert they indulged in a rich lemon cake garnished with a few fresh raspberries and a chocolate curl. Afterward, Bram dragged Chaz out from the kitchen. Everybody complimented her, and she blushed furiously. “I’m glad you…like enjoyed it.” She shot Georgie a glare.
“A great dessert, Chaz,” Georgie said. “A perfect balance between tart and sweet.”
Chaz regarded her suspiciously.
Trev had a 6 a.m. call and left, but the others were in no hurry to end the evening even though the wind had picked up and the air smelled like rain. Bram put on some jazz and engaged Rory in a quiet conversation about Italian cinema. Georgie mentally congratulated him for displaying so much restraint. When Rory excused herself to go to the powder room, Georgie slipped to his side. “You’re doing great. Give her plenty of space when she comes back, so you don’t look desperate.”
“I am desperate. At least-” He stared at her hand as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Where’s your wedding ring?”
She glanced at her bare finger. “I accidentally knocked it down the drain while I was getting dressed. You’re just noticing?”
“You
“It’s cheaper to order another one than pay for a plumber.”
“Since when are you worried about
She smiled sadly and acted as if deathbed phone calls were all in a day’s work.
Rain began to fall in a gentle spatter that made the candlelit veranda seem even cozier. With all her guests engaged in conversation, Georgie slipped away unnoticed.
She found Bram on his knees, his head stuck under her sink, a plastic bucket and a pipe wrench by his knees. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to rescue your ring,” he said from inside the vanity.
“Why?”
“Because it’s your wedding ring,” he said tightly. “Every woman has a sentimental attachment to her wedding ring.”
“I don’t. You bought mine on eBay for a hundred bucks.”
He pulled his head out. “Who told you that?”
“You did.”
He muttered something, grabbed the monkey wrench, and stuffed his head back inside the vanity.
She was getting a creepy feeling. “You did buy it on eBay, right?”
“Not exactly,” came his muffled reply.
“Then where did you get it?”
“At…this store.”
“
He poked his head out. “How am I supposed to remember?”
“It was only a month ago!”
“Whatever.” His head disappeared.
“You told me the ring was a fake. It’s a fake, right?”
“Define ‘fake.’” The wrench clanged against a pipe.
“As in, ‘Not genuine.’”
“Oh.”
“Bram?”
Another clang. “It’s not a fake.”
“It’s the
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that from the beginning?”
“Because we have a relationship based on deceit.” He stretched out his hand. “Give me the bucket.”
“I don’t believe this!”
He fumbled for the bucket, his head still inside.
“I would have been more careful!” She thought of all the places she’d left the ring lying around, and she wanted to kick him. “I set it on the diving board when I went swimming yesterday!”
“That’s just stupid.” Water sloshed into the bucket. “Got it!” he said a moment later.
She sank down on the toilet lid and dropped her forehead into her hands. “I’m sick of having a marriage based on deceit.”
He emerged, bringing the bucket with him. “If you think about it, having a marriage based on deceit is all you know anything about. That should be a comfort.”
She leaped up. “I want a fake ring. I liked having a fake ring. Why don’t you ever do what you’re supposed to?”
“Because I can never figure out what that is.” He dropped the sink stopper and began washing off her not-fake ring. “When we get back downstairs, I’m going to pull Rory away. Don’t let anybody interrupt us, okay?”
“Georgie!” Meg called from the bottom of the stairs. “Georgie, you need to come down here. You have a guest.”
How could she have a guest with a guard stationed at the gate?
Bram grabbed her hand and slipped the ring back on. “Let’s be a little more careful this time.”
She stared down at the big stone. “I paid for this, didn’t I?”
“Everybody should have a rich wife.”
She jerked past him and hurried along the hall. Halfway down she stopped.
Her ex-husband stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Chapter 17
Meg tugged nervously on an amber earring. “I told him he couldn’t come in.”
Lance looked as bad as someone so buff could possibly look. He was apparently growing both a beard and long hair for his next action film because he had an inch of unkempt black scrub sprouting from his jaw, and his dark hair hung unevenly around his square face, not an attractive look, although one that was certain to improve after his hair and makeup people got done with him. His coffee-stained T-shirt stretched over the bulging muscles he spent several hours a day maintaining. Narrow braided bracelets, similar to Meg’s headband, but more frayed, hung at his wrist, and he wore sandals made of rope and canvas. Skillful dentistry had shaped his strong white teeth, but he’d never let anyone touch his slightly crooked nose. His press kit said he’d broken it in a teenage street fight, but he’d