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“You’re kidding.”
“We’ll have the cake designer put a set of those stupid-ass Skip and Scooter dolls on top.”
“Dolls?”
“The florist should use whatever the blue flowers were in the opening credits. Maybe candy miniatures of the mansion for party favors. That kind of crap.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Give the people what they want, Georgie. It’s the first rule of business. I’m surprised a mogul like you doesn’t know that.”
She stared at him. He smiled back with an innocence that didn’t fit his fallen angel’s face. And that’s when she understood. “Oh, my God…You were serious about a Skip and Scooter reunion show.”
He grinned. “I think we should put the Scofield coat of arms on the table menus. And the family motto…What t
he hell was it? ‘Greed Forever’?”
“You really do want a reunion show.” She sank into the couch. “It’s not just the money that made you agree to this marriage.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that.”
“You want a reunion show, too.”
His desk chair squeaked as he leaned back. “Our party will be a hell of a lot more fun than that pussy reception you had when you married the Loser. Tell me you didn’t really leave the church in a carriage with six white horses.”
The carriage had been Lance’s idea, and she’d felt like a princess. But now her prince had run off with the wicked witch, and Georgie had accidentally married the big bad wolf. “I’m not doing a reunion show,” she said. “I’ve spent eight years trying to get out from under Scooter’s shadow, and I’m not walking back into it.”
“If you’d really wanted to get out from under Scooter’s shadow, you wouldn’t have made all those lame romantic comedies.”
“There’s nothing wrong with romantic comedies.”
“There’s something wrong with bad romantic comedies. Those movies weren’t exactly Pretty Woman or Jerry Maguire, babe.”
“I hated Pretty Woman.”
“Audiences didn’t. On the other hand, they did hate Pretty People and Summer in the City. And I’m not hearing anything good about the project you just wrapped.”
“It’s your career that’s in the toilet, not mine.” Only technically true, since Cake Walk wouldn’t come out until next winter. “You aren’t dragging me down with you.”
His desk phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and answered. “Yep?…Okay…” He hung up and came out from behind the desk, bringing his drink with him. “That was Chaz. Fix your makeup. It’s time to start showing off for the press.”
“Since when have you cared about showing off for anybody except trashy women?”
“Since I’ve become a respectable married man. I’ll meet you by the front door in fifteen minutes. Don’t forget to use that lipstick that doesn’t smudge.”
“Oh, I’ll remember.” She rose from the couch and swept ahead of him. “Gosh, all this talk you’ve been doing about holding the power card. Such a fascinating example of self-delusion…” With an airy wave, she headed back to the house.
By the time she’d finished touching up her makeup, finger combing her straight hair, and changing into a mint green Marc Jacobs cotton eyelet dress, the smell of fresh baked goods had drifted upstairs. Her stomach growled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so hungry. Bram was waiting in the foyer, along with Chaz, who was gazing up at him as if he hung the moon and the stars.
As Georgie reached his side, he slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Chaz, you’ll make sure Georgie has whatever she needs.”
Chaz responded with a friendliness that Bram might buy into but Georgie didn’t believe for an instant. “Anything, Georgie. You just let me know.”
“Thanks. As a matter of fact, I’ve hardly eaten all day, and I wouldn’t mind—”
“Later, sweetheart. We have work to do.” Bram kissed her forehead, then turned to pick up one of two trays piled with home-baked sugar cookies. “Chaz has made a goodwill offering for us to distribute to our friends in the press.” He handed one tray to Georgie, then picked up the other for himself. “We’re going to pass these out and pose for some photos.”
The press liked nothing better than free food. It was a great idea, and she wished she’d thought of it. He opened the door for her. “I hired extra security until the gates go up,” he said. “I’m sure you won’t mind paying your portion of the bill.”
