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“You hardly had any money. How did you make rent?”
“I got a job. What do you think?”
“What kind of job?”
“I have to pee.” She headed toward the small bathroom off the kitchen. “Are you going to follow me in here, too?” She shut the door and locked it. Nobody would ever make her talk about what happened when she got to L.A. Nobody.
When she came out, Georgie had disappeared and Bram was finishing a phone call. She picked up a dishcloth and wiped the counter. “Tell Georgie to stop following me around with that camera,” she said as he hung up.
“It’s hard to tell Georgie anything.” He pulled the iced tea pitcher from the refrigerator.
“What’s with her anyway? Why does she keep doing it?”
“Who knows? A couple of days ago I saw her filming the women who clean the house. She was talking to them in Spanish.”
Chaz wouldn’t admit it, but she didn’t like the idea of Georgie filming anybody but her. “Good. Maybe she won’t bother me so much.”
Bram fingered his cell phone. “Have you done it yet?”
She opened the dishwasher and stuck in the glasses from breakfast. “I’m thinking about it.”
“Chaz, there’s a big world out there. You can’t hide here forever.”
“I’m not hiding! Now do you mind? People are coming to dinner tomorrow night, and I have a lot of things to do.”
He shook his head. “Sometimes I don’t think I did you a favor by giving you a job.”
He was wrong. He’d done her the biggest favor of her life, and she’d never forget it.
That afternoon, as Georgie got dressed for the paps, she kept asking herself why sex with a bad boy was so much more thrilling than getting it on with a decent guy. Even if that decent guy had left her for another woman. So why had she made herself sleep alone last night? Because yesterday had been too good. Too much fun. Too deliciously debauched. So mindless and uncomplicated she wasn’t ready to spoil it with real life. She’d also wanted Bram to understand she hadn’t turned into a pushover just because that had been the most thrilling sexual escapade of her life. But shutting him out had taken all her willpower, and she didn’t like the knowing look he’d given her when she’d said she was sleeping alone.
They left the house for a midmorning coffee run and photo op. She decided the best way to restore a sense of normalcy was to pick a fight. “Stop humming.” She scowled at him across the passenger seat. “You only think you can carry a tune.”
“What’s eating you? Not me, unfortunately.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Hey, what happened to your famous sense of humor?”
“You.”
“I guess that’d do it.” He started humming a few bars of “It’s the Hard-knock Life” just to provoke her. “You were a lot friendlier yesterday afternoon. A lot.”
“That was lust, pal. I was using you.”
“And doing a damn fine job of it.”
She didn’t like the way he refused to join her in the fight she needed to have with him. “You shouldn’t have said you remembered what happened that night in Vegas when you really didn’t.”
“Process of elimination. I guarantee that one of us passed out before the deed was done, because if we’d finished up, I’d have remembered.”
For once, she was inclined to believe him.
The paps surrounded them when they emerged from The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. Georgie thought about the zillions of photos she’d seen of celebs carrying either coffee cups or water bottles. Since when had dehydration become an occupational hazard of fame?
“Right here! Look here!”
“Any plans for the weekend?”
