AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Thank God.” Bram rose from the chaise. “I still hate that uptight little preppy prick.”
But Georgie had loved Skip Scofield. She’d loved everything about him. His big heart, his loyalty, the way he’d tried to protect Scooter from the Scofield family. The way he’d eventually fallen in love with her silly round face and rubber-band mouth. She’d loved everything except the man Skip turned into when the cameras stopped rolling.
The three of them had fallen back into their old pattern—Bram on the attack and Trevor defending her. But she wasn’t a kid any longer, and she needed to defend herself. “I don’t think you hate Skip at all. I think you always wanted to be Skip, but you fell so far short of the mark that you had to pretend to despise him.”
Bram yawned. “Maybe you’re right. Trev, are you sure no one’s left any weed lying around? Or even a cigarette?”
“I’m sure,” Trevor said, just as the phone rang. “Don’t kill each other while I answer that.”
Trevor went inside.
She wanted to punish Bram for being exactly who he was. “I could have been trampled to death today. Thanks for nothing.”
“You were handling it. And without Daddy. Now that was the real surprise.”
She stared him down. “What do you want, Bram? We both know y
our showing up here isn’t an accident.”
He rose, wandered toward the railing, and peered down at the beach. “If Trev had been stupid enough to take you up on your bizarre offer, what would you have done for a sex life?”
“Right. That’s something I’m going to talk to you about.”
“Who better to confide in?” he said. “I was there at the beginning, remember?”
She couldn’t bear another moment, and she spun toward the French doors.
“Just out of curiosity, Scoot…,” he said from behind her. “Now that Trev’s rejected you, who’s next in line to be Mr. Georgie York?”
She pasted on a smile full of mockery and turned back. “Aren’t you sweet to tax that big evil head of yours worrying about my future when your own life is such a screwed-up mess.” Her hand was trembling, but she gave what she hoped passed for a jaunty wave and went inside. Trev had just gotten off the phone, but she was too drained to do more than ask him to at least consider her idea.
By the time she reached Pacific Palisades, she was so tightly coiled she ached. She ignored the photographer parked at the end of her court and turned into a narrow driveway that curled down to an unassuming pseudo-Mediterranean ranch that could have fit into her former home’s swimming pool. She hadn’t been able to bear staying in the house where she and Lance had lived. This rental came furnished with bulky pieces that were too heavy for the small rooms, just as the ceilings were too low for the rough wooden beams, but she didn’t care enough to look for another place.
She cranked open a bedroom window, then made herself check her voice mail.
“Georgie, I saw the stupid tabloid, and—”
Delete
“Georgie, I’m so sorry—”
Delete
“He’s a bastard, kiddo, and you’re—”
Delete
Her friends were well meaning—most of them, anyway—but their nonstop sympathy choked her. She wanted to be the one handing out sympathy for a change, not always having to receive it.
“Georgie, call me immediately.” Her father’s crisp voice filled the room. “There’s a photo in the new Flash that’s bound to upset you. I don’t want you to be taken off guard.”
Too late, Daddy.
“It’s important that you rise to the occasion. I’ve e-mailed Aaron a statement to post on your Web site telling the world how happy you are for Lance. I’m sure you know—”
She jammed the delete button. Why couldn’t her father just once behave like a father instead of a manager? He’d begun building her career when she was five, less than a year after her mother’s death. He’d accompanied her to every cattle call, orchestrated her first television commercials, and forced her to take the singing and dancing lessons that had won her the starring role in the Broadway revival of Annie, the part that had led to her casting as Scooter Brown. Unlike so many other parents of child stars, her father had made sure her money was wisely invested. Thanks to him, she’d never have to work again, and while she was grateful he’d watched after her money so well, she’d give up every penny to have had a real father.
She stepped back from the phone as she heard Lance’s voice. “Georgie, it’s me,” he said softly. “We arrived in the Philippines yesterday. I just heard about a story in Flash…I don’t know if you’ve seen it yet. I—I wanted to tell you myself before you read about it. Jade is pregnant…”
