“And sister dearest?”
Callie hadn’t spoken to Eunice since their visit in Iowa City. “I think she has more important things on her mind these days than whether I’m keeping my clothes on.”
Her expression suddenly turned serious. “Terry, have you ever gotten weird vibes from any of the men on the set when we’ve been doing our scenes?”
“Such as?”
“That one of them was overly fascinated by you showing a little skin?”
He stared at her blankly. “You mean do I think one of them is gay?”
“Exactly.”
“Sorry. My radar’s not that finely tuned.”
“Maybe it should be.”
He scowled. “Terrific. Could you make me any more self-conscious. Isn’t it bad enough that I’m supposed to be making love on-screen to my best friend, who doesn’t stir so much as a twinge of excitement in me?”
“Not even a twinge?” Callie teased.
“Callie!” he protested. “Does every male in the universe have to swoon at your feet for you to be happy?”
“We can blame Chad and the bimbo for that,” she said. “So how about it? Maybe a little twinge?”
He shook his head. “Okay, maybe once,” he conceded for her ego’s sake, “but let’s get serious here. I really do not want to think that someone on the set is lusting for me when we shoot those scenes, any more than you do.”
“We already know the women are hot for your body and jealous as sin of me. That doesn’t seem to bother you.”
“I can’t explain why your suggestion makes me crazy. It just does.”
“Well, forget all about your squeamishness and pay attention because I think that’s what’s going on here.” She paused thoughtfully. “Have any of those magazines ever outed anybody from the show?”
“How would I know?”
“You don’t read them?”
“Have you ever seen one around my apartment? I read the New York Times, the trades and Architectural Digest. When my face is on the cover, I read the soap magazines. That’s it. Neil reads business magazines, stacks of them.”
“Okay, okay, you don’t have to get huffy. I’m just trying to help.”
“I thought the big shot had ordered you off the case.”
She frowned at him. “Do you see him anywhere around here right now?”
“In other words, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him?”
“Something like that.”
“If your snooping gets you killed, I think he’ll figure out what you’ve been up to. He won’t be happy.”
Callie shuddered, despite herself. “Neither will I.”
22
There was something different about her mother. Callie spotted it the minute she walked into the apartment. It was more than the faint flush in her cheeks, more even than the very visible sparkle in her eyes. It was as if some terrible weight had been removed from her shoulders. She looked happy, Callie realized with a sense of shock. Happy and more self-confident.
“What did you do today?” she asked, hoping to discover what was behind her mother’s intriguing transformation.
“Nothing much,” Regina said, avoiding Callie’s fascinated gaze. “And you? How did your day go? Did anything happen on the set?”
The quick change of subject left Callie feeling thoroughly frustrated. She knew from past experience that trying to turn the conversation back toward her mother would be next to fruitless. Maybe it was some self-effacing, maternal thing, but Regina Gunderson had always preferred to talk more about her daughters’ lives than her own. That probably explained why Callie had never realized before the other night’s inadvertent comment that her mother hadn’t been especially happy on the farm.
Still, this one time Callie was determined she wouldn’t be put off by the deliberate shift in topic. She wanted to discover what was behind this new outlook on life her mother seemed to have developed overnight.
“You didn’t spend the whole day shut up inside, did you?” she asked.
“No, I got out for a bit. Wasn’t it a lovely day?”
“From the few minutes I had outdoors, it seemed to be,” Callie said, thinking of the way Jason had shuttled her into the limo that morning, into the studio and back into the limo that night as if he were certain some sharpshooter was hovering on a nearby rooftop. Henry had stood guard in a similarly alert manner. For the first time, she’d been almost certain that there was a gun beneath his jacket. She’d shivered at the realization that Henry’s duties went beyond just driving the limo.
“Where did you go?” she asked, forcing herself to forget that moment of awareness and concentrate on her mother.
“Here and there,” Regina said evasively, her cheeks pinker than ever. “Why don’t we go for a walk now? The fresh air will do you good. You look a little peaked.”
Callie sighed. Her mother was clearly determined not to reveal any more than she already had. “I would like nothing more than going for a walk with you, but Jason will be back any minute with dinner. The great outdoors seems to make him nervous at the moment.”
Regina’s expression grew troubled. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“And you don’t need to,” Callie reassured her. “Jason is overreacting.”
At a knock on the door, she flung it open, only to find herself facing a scowling Jason.
“You didn’t even ask who it was,” he accused, juggling several bags of groceries as he deliberately turned every single one of her locks to assure they were safe within the fortress.
“No one knocks as imperiously as you do,” she explained. “Besides, I looked through the peephole.”
He glanced toward her mother, clearly for confirmation. Regina, bless her loyal heart, nodded dutifully.
“She did.”
“Well, I should hope so. This isn’t a game, you know.”
“Actually, I don’t know that,” Callie informed him, following him into the kitchen, where he began unloading supplies for some complicated Thai dish he claimed he’d been wanting to fix for ages. She wondered idly when he’d had time to learn all of these culinary masterpieces, how often he prepared them and for whom.
“And you don’t know any more about whether this is a game than I do,” she pointed out.
“What’s it going to take
