Susan Phillips - What I Did for Love

“It was great,” he said slowly. “You were great.”

She stared at him with her big green eyes.

“You nailed it, just like you promised,” he said. “People underestimate me as an actor. It never occurred to me that I was doing the same to you. We’ve all done it.”

“I know.”

Her straightforward response unnerved him. He hadn’t known, and when he’d seen the tape, he’d felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach.

Last night he’d sat in his darkened bedroom and watched it. As he hit the play button, the blank wall in Georgie’s office had come into focus, and he heard Chaz’s voice off camera. “I’ve got things to do. I don’t have time for this crap.”

Georgie stepping into the frame. Her hair was severely parted, and she wore a minimum of makeup: light foundation, no mascara, the barest hint of eyebrow pencil, and a shockingly deep scarlet mouth that couldn’t have been more wrong for Helene. The camera caught her from the waist up: an austere black suit jacket, a white shell, and a set of intricately twisted black beads.

“I mean it,” Chaz said. “I need to start dinner.”

Georgie pierced Chaz’s bluster with Helene’s icy imperiousness instead of her normal friendly puppy-dog manner. “You’ll do as I say.”

Chaz muttered something the mike didn’t catch and stayed where she was. Georgie’s breasts rose ever so slightly under the suit jacket, and then a smile-a fucking ice-pick smile-curled over the bottom of her face and made that scarlet mouth seem absolutely right.

You think you can embarrass me, Danny? I don’t embarrass. Embarrassment is for losers. And a loser is what you are, not me. You’re a zero. A nothing. We all knew it, even when you were a kid.

Her voice was low, deathly quiet, and completely composed. Unlike the other actresses they’d auditioned, she didn’t emote. No teeth gnawing or scenery rattling. Everything underplayed.

You don’t have a friend left in this town, but you still think you’ve gotten the best of me…

The words poured out of her, cold fury prowling behind her bloodred smile, perfectly capturing Helene’s selfishness, her guile, her intelligence, and her utter conviction that she deserved whatever she could grab. He sat spellbound until finally, with that smile frozen like black ice on her lips, she came to the end.

Remember how you used to make fun of me when we were in school? How hard you laughed? Well, who’s laughing now, funny man? Who’s laughing now?

The camera stayed on her, but she didn’t move. She simply waited, every cell of her body discharging quiet rage, intractable pride, and dogged determination. The camera wobbled, and he heard Chaz’s voice. “Holy shit, Georgie, that was-”

The picture went dark.

He looked at Georgie now, standing across from him on the whitewashed patio, her hair caught up in a sweaty, unkempt knot, her face scrubbed free of makeup, a beach towel dangling at her side, and for a moment he thought he saw Helene’s calculating eyes looking back at him-resolute, cynical, astute. He’d fix that. “I woke Hank up this morning and made him look at the tape before he even had coffee.”

“Did you now?”

“He was blown away. Just like me. No other actress we’ve seen has delivered what you did-the complexity, that dark humor.”

“I’m a comedian. It’s what I do.”

“Your performance was chilling.”

“Thank you.”

Her reserve was starting to unnerve him. He expected her to crow and say she’d told him so. When she didn’t, he tried again. “You blasted Scooter Brown into oblivion.”

“That was my intention.”

She still didn’t seem to have registered his message, so he spelled it out. “The part’s yours.”

Instead of throwing herself in his arms, she turned away. “I need to take a shower. Make yourself comfortable while I get dressed.”

She locked herself in the bathroom and let the water wash over her. She’d been vindicated, and it didn’t mean anything. She’d known exactly how good she was. Ironic. The only person’s approval she’d needed was her own. How was that for personal growth?

She pulled on the same white shorts and navy baby-doll she’d worn that morning and ran a comb through her wet hair. It was time to face him with as much of the truth as she could bear to reveal, but she couldn’t do it by herself. She needed help from her most faithful companion.

The cool, compact living area had whitewashed walls, a tile floor, and brown wicker basket chairs with cool blue cushions. Every morning, she opened the sliding glass wall so the patio became an extension of the interior, allowing an occasional gecko to get inside, but she didn’t mind. She’d read that some of the species were parthenogenic, meaning the females could reproduce without a male. If only she could do that.

Bram had located the iced tea pitcher in the refrigerator, and he sat with his feet propped on the coffee table, a heavy-bottomed green tumbler balanced on his thigh. He heard her padding across the cool terra-cotta tiles, but he didn’t look at her. “You don’t seem as happy about your casting as I thought you’d be.”

“Apparently I only had something to prove to myself,” Georgie’s faithful companion Scooter chirped. “Who’d have expected that?”

“This is the career break you’ve been waiting for.”

“Yes, but…” When she hesitated, he swung around to look at her. She held up her hand. “I have something to tell you. You’re not going to be happy-I’m not happy. You’ll call me every name you can think of, and I won’t argue with you.”

He rose from the couch and approached her as carefully as if she were an abandoned piece of airport luggage. “You’re not staying at Trev’s. I mean it, Georgie. I’ve honored every word of this stupid marriage agreement, and you can damn well do the same.”

“You haven’t honored it out of nobility. You have your own selfish reasons.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’ve stuck with my end of the bargain, and you need to stick with yours, or you’re not the woman I thought you were.”

“Fine in principle, but…” Time to blurt it out like the bubblehead she wasn’t. “Cards on the table, Skipper.” She straightened a magazine on the end table. “I can feel myself starting to fall for you again.”

“The hell you can.”

He hadn’t even blinked. She plunged on. “Ridiculous, isn’t it. Humiliating. Embarrassing. Fortunately, it hasn’t gone very far, but you know me-determined to shoot myself in the foot whenever I get the chance. Not this time, though. This time, I’m nipping this sucker right in the bud.”

“You are not falling in love with me.”

“I can hardly believe it myself. Thank God, I’m only on the fringe.” She jabbed her finger toward him. “It’s your body. Your face. That hair. You’re a total hunk, and, sorry to say, I’m as susceptible as the next woman.”

“I get it. This is all about sex. You’re fundamentally an old-fashioned girl who needs to believe she’s in love to enjoy sex.”

“God, I think you’re right.”

He blinked and, a few seconds too late, realized she’d cornered him. “What I mean is…”

“You’re definitely right,” she said emphatically. “Thank you. No more sex.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“The alternative is for me to move back into your house and fall completely in love with you. I’m sure we can both imagine how that would play out. Embarrassing scenes with me crying and begging. You feeling like crap. Knowing me, I’d secretly stop taking my birth control pills. Are you getting the picture?”

“I can’t believe this.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “You’re not that stupid. This isn’t love. It’s sex. You know me way too well to really love me.”

“You’d think so.”

“You, of all people, know what a selfish, self-centered womanizing jerk I am.”

“I hate myself. Really.”

“Georgie, don’t do this.”

“What can I say? Of all the crazy jams I’ve gotten us into, this is the worst.” When he didn’t respond, she licked her lips. “Awkward, isn’t it.”

“It’s not awkward at all. It’s you being you. You’re too damned emotional. Use your head. We both know that you deserve better than me.”

“Finally, we agree on something.”

She’d hoped to ease the tension, but his scowl grew more pronounced. “That stupid conversation about falling in love…You had me convinced you were worried about my feelings,” he said, “but you were just feeling me out.”

“Please don’t bring that up. Surely you realize what it’s costing me to swallow my pride like this and admit that I’m slipping back into that old trap.”

“It’s temporary. You were sex starved, and I’m a damn good lover.”

“What if it’s more than that?”

“It’s not. Remember that I’ve been on my semibest behavior. Now I can see what a mistake that was. Pack your suitcase and forget about it. I guarantee it won’t happen again.”

“Sorry. I can’t do it.”

“Sure you can. You’re making way too big a deal out of this.”

“I wish. How do you think admitting something so degrading makes me feel? I’m only hanging on to my self-respect by a thread.”

“That’s because you’re behaving like an idiot.”

“And I’m determined to put a stop to it.”

“We finally agree.” He jammed his fingertips in his pocket. “Okay, I’ll compromise. You can move into the guesthouse for a while. Until you get your brain back.”

“Too awkward with Chaz and Aaron around. Moving to Malibu is a lot better.”

“Chaz already knows about Vegas, and Aaron would do anything for you. The guesthouse is the perfect place for you to deal with your craziness. As for our working relationship…When you’re on the set, you’ll be your normal professional self, and I’ll revert to being an arrogant pain in the ass. It won’t take you long to come to your senses.”