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…”
Georgie watched Bram from the other end of the living room. He’d gotten off to a bumpy start, but slowly his passion began to shine through. She stole a glance at Rory, but it was hard to decipher anything from her expression.
The idea for the script reading had come to her right after she’d overheard their conversation and seen the desperation Bram was working so hard to conceal. Two big obstacles lay in his way-his reputation for unreliability and his insistence on playing Danny Grimes. She couldn’t do anything more about the first, but it occurred to her that she could give him a shot at the second. He’d either be able to pull off the character or he wouldn’t, but at least he’d have a chance.
Everyone listened intently as he briefly described each character. Asking Rory to read Helene instead of taking the part herself had been wrenching, but this was Bram’s project, and this needed to be his audition. Besides, on the remote chance her plan worked, Bram would owe her big-time, and she intended to make sure he paid up.
Still, she’d once again put the needs of a man ahead of her own, but witnessing Bram’s passion for this project had given her a peephole into his soul. Right or wrong, this felt like the only path to take. She’d wait for another day to be ruthless.
They began to read, and it quickly became obvious that her ulterior motives had led to some serious miscasting. Jade couldn’t resist adding a repressed anger to Marcie that wasn’t on the page, turning her into a more formidable character than either Rory’s stilted Helene or Meg’s Natalie. Lance practically twirled a villain’s mustache in the role of Ken, and Laura was an unconvincing five-year-old. Her father, on the other hand, was shockingly good as Danny’s father. But not as good as Bram, who peeled his character down to its bones so that everyone in the room felt the mute suffering of a man wrongly convicted of one of society’s most heinous crimes. A man who was doggedly trying not to see the same crime unfolding in the house next door.
They reached the last page. Danny Grimes stood over his father’s grave with Natalie at his side.
NATALIE
The rain’s stopped. It’s going to be a nice day after all.
DANNY
A good day to build a tree house. Let’s get started.
Silence fell over the living room. One by one, they began closing their scripts.
Bram’s eyes found hers, and she felt her mouth curve in a slow smile. His performance had been brilliant-quiet, desperate, inspired-completely unexpected. Once again, she’d sold him short.
Meg finally broke the silence. “Damn, Bram…Does anybody else know you can act?”
Laura blew her nose. “Son of a bitch.” She gazed toward Paul, who was staring off into space.
“Good job, Bram,” Lance said. “A little flat, but not bad for a first reading…”
“I thought it was brilliant,” Jade said bluntly. “You’ve been wasting your talent on bullshit parts.”
“Right.” Lance jumped back in. “A really interesting performance.”
Georgie gazed at her ex-husband. Bram and her father were right. Lance was like a…a giant block of tofu. He had no flavor of his own. Instead, he assumed the flavors of the people closest to him.
Laura still had her eyes on Paul, who abruptly left the room. Georgie was afraid to look at Rory until she heard a long, weary sigh. “All right, Bram…This is against my better judgment, but let’s go someplace and talk.”
Georgie gave a strangled yelp, but other than a small twitch at the corner of his mouth, Bram didn’t exhibit anything except lazy confidence. “Sure. We can talk in my office.”
“Well…well…,” Jade remarked as Rory and Bram disappeared.
“I’ll say.” Meg uncrossed her legs and rose from her perch on the floor. “I can’t wait to tell Mom about this.”
Lance drummed his fingers on his thigh, something he did when he was unhappy. Chaz came in from the kitchen, where she’d undoubtedly been eavesdropping, and asked if anyone wanted more coffee. What Georgie wanted to do was leap up and dance.
Her guests drifted off to their various beds. Georgie finally went upstairs. She was dying to hear about Rory’s conversation with Bram, and she tried to read while she waited but finally gave it up. Her thoughts drifted to her ex-husband. From the time they’d started dating until the end of their marriage, she’d let her love for him define who she was-first Lance Marks’s girlfriend, then Lance Marks’s wife, and finally Lance’s tragically victimized ex-wife. She’d let herself become the emotional slave of a famous, talented, unfaithful, but not really rotten…slab of tofu.
Bram shot through the door and dive-bombed the bed. Yanking the covers away, he kissed her until she was delirious.
“I take it…,” she said breathlessly, “…that you’re demonstrating your gratitude.”
“I am.” He grinned and brushed her temples with his thumbs. “Thank you, Georgina. I mean it.” He slipped his hand under her tank top and pinched her nipple. “But don’t ever do anything like that again without warning me. I nearly had a heart attack.”
She decided she could wait to hear the details of his meeting and arched her breast into his hand. “You’re welcome. Now show me how grateful you really are.”
He did exactly that.
The next morning Bram was as happy as Georgie had ever seen him. His eyes sparkled, and the razor edges of his mouth had softened. Rory had agreed to produce
That afternoon the health department lifted the quarantine after blood tests determined that Jade’s assistants were suffering from a virus, not from SARS. Both women were still weak, but improving. By the time everyone was ready to leave, three helicopters buzzed overhead, and a media maelstrom waited at the gates. Rory slipped out the back, but the rest of them waited for the police to arrive and clear the way.
Now that Bram’s dreams were coming true, Georgie had to take the next step toward realizing her own. She went outside to find Laura. As her agent came back up the path from the guesthouse, Georgie walked down the steps to meet her. Laura’s baby-fine hair bounced this way and that around the soft prettiness of her face. She didn’t look tough enough to be an agent, and maybe she wasn’t. Georgie licked her lips. “I want you to cancel my meeting with Rich Greenberg tomorrow.”
Laura stopped in her tracks, her brown eyes widening with alarm. “Georgie, I can’t do that. You have no idea how hard I worked to get that meeting. You weren’t even on Rich’s radar screen until I talked to him, but now he’s thinking seriously about you.”
“I understand, but you didn’t talk to me about it first. I’m not doing that film.”
“Rich has some great ideas. You should at least hear him out.”
“It’s a waste of his time. I’ll call him myself and apologize.”
