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And that’s when he walked in.
Chapte
r 27
Bram’s shocked expression clearly announced she was the last person on earth he expected—or wanted—to see. Her own face was chalky from too many late nights, and her eyes shadowed, but he looked ready for a GQ shoot. He had a crisp new haircut, almost as short as he’d worn it during their Skip and Scooter days, and she could have sworn his fingernails looked professionally manicured.
She couldn’t bear having him think she’d sought him out. “Chaz is sick,” she said flatly. “I drove over to check on her, and now I’m leaving.”
She set her shoulders and crossed the room toward the veranda, but he was at her side before she could touch the knob. “Don’t take another step.”
“No drama, Bram. I don’t have the stomach for it.”
“We’re actors. We thrive on drama.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “I haven’t gone through all this, for you to walk out on me.”
The fury she thought she’d conquered burst into flame. “Gone through all what? What have you gone through? Look at you! You’re not even wrinkled. You’ve been having the time of your life!”
“Is that how you see it?”
“You’re producing and starring in a great movie. All your dreams have come true.”
“Not exactly. I screwed up with you, remember? The most important person in my life.” He trapped her against the French doors. “And I’m trying to fix that.”
She gave a dismissive snort. “How?”
He gazed down at her, his stormy eyes telegraphing an Actors Studio version of a tortured soul. “I love you, Georgie.”
Fireworks flashed before her eyes. “And why is that?”
“Because I do. Because you’re you.”
“You sound sincere. You look sincere.” She sneered and shoved his arm away. “But I’m not buying a word of it.”
Someone less cynical might believe honest pain tightened the corner of his mouth. “What happened that day on the beach…,” he said. “I know exactly how ugly it was, but I also got the wake-up call I needed.”
“Aww, that’s swell.”
“I knew you wouldn’t believe me, and I can’t even blame you.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Just listen, Georgie. We’ve cast Helene. It’s a done deal. What ulterior motive could I still have left?”
No more of the quiet suffering that had followed her breakup with Lance. She let it all spew out. “Let’s start with your career. Three and a half months ago, I was the person willing to sacrifice everything to protect my image, but now it’s you. Your unsavory past was blocking your future, and you used me to fix it.”
“That doesn’t—”
“Tree House isn’t some once-in-a-lifetime project for you. It’s the first part of a carefully planned strategy to establish yourself as a respectable actor and producer.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having ambition.”
“There is when you still want to use me to prop up your image as Mr. Trustworthy.”
“This is Hollywood, Georgie! The promised land of the divorced. Who the hell—other than Rory Keene—cares whether we stay married?”
“Rory Keene. Exactly!”
“You don’t really think I want this marriage to last just so I don’t lose Rory’s good opinion?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”
“What I was doing. But that’s over. I’m more than happy to stake my career on the quality of my work, not on my marriage.”
