What I Did for Love (Wynette, Texas #5)(32)

“I’ll have the rest of your clothes packed up by tomorrow,” he said. “Where do you want these?”

“Upstairs. Bram’s closet is full, so I’m turning the room next door into a dressing room.”

Aaron was out of breath by the time they reached the top of the stairs, and his black man-purse had slipped down to the crook of his elbow. She wished he’d take better care of himself, but he ignored her hints. As they passed Bram’s bedroom, he peeked in, then came to a stop. “Sweet.”

The sound system had caught his attention, not the decor. “Mind if I set these down and take a look?” he said.

Knowing how much he loved gadgetry, she couldn’t refuse. He deposited her clothes and suitcase in the next room, then returned to study the electronics. “Awesome.”

“A party, babe?” a silky voice said from the doorway.

This produced a geek snort from Aaron. “I’m Aaron. Georgie’s P.A.”

Bram arched one of his perfect eyebrows at Georgie. Personal assistants tended to be cute young women or well-turned-out gay men. Aaron didn’t fit either category. She almost hadn’t hired him, even though her father had recommended him for the job. But during their interview, the smoke alarms in her house had shorted out, and he’d fixed the problem so effortlessly that she’d decided to give him a chance. He’d proved to be cheerful, smart, scarily well organized, and not particular about the tasks she assigned. He was also as low on self-esteem as he was on drama, and he never thought to ask her for favors, like getting him into a trendy club or hot restaurant, something her past P.A.s had taken for granted.

Lots of guys like Aaron had moved to L.A. from their midwestern hometowns with dreams of doing special effects in Hollywood only to discover those jobs weren’t easy to come by. Now Aaron worked as her P.A. and ran her Web site. In his free time, he played video games and ate junk food.

Aaron shook Bram’s hand, then gestured toward the sound system, which rested in a rough-hewn cabinet with doors that looked as though they’d come from a Spanish mission. “I’ve read about these. How long have you had it?”

“I put it in last year. Do you want a demo?”

While Aaron explored the gadgetry, Georgie investigated the empty room around the corner where she’d decided to set up her office. Eventually Aaron joined her, and they decided what pieces of furniture she needed from storage. After they’d made plans to close up her rental house and drafted a letter for her fan Web site, Georgie told Aaron to cancel the various meetings and appointments she’d intended to get out of the way before she left for her six-month vacation.

She’d planned to travel in Europe—staying away from big cities to drive around the countryside. She’d envisioned poking into small towns, hiking on ancient pathways, and maybe, just maybe, finding herself. But her journey of self-discovery had taken a far more treacherous path.

“I finally understand why you’re taking six months off,” Aaron said. “Good plan. With nothing on your schedule, you’ll be able to enjoy a long honeymoon.”

Some honeymoon.

She and Lance had stayed in a private villa in Tuscany that had looked out over an olive grove. Lance had gotten restless after a few days, but she’d loved the place.

She’d barely thought of her ex-husband all morning, which had to be a record. As Aaron got ready to leave, Chaz came through the foyer, and Georgie introduced them. “This is Aaron Wiggins, my personal assistant. Aaron, Chaz is Bram’s housekeeper.”

Chaz swept her black-rimmed eyes from Aaron’s wiry hair to the straining buttons on his checked dress shirt to his pudding tummy and black, wedged-sole sneakers. She curled her lip. “Stay out of the refrigerator, okay? It’s off-limits.”

Aaron turned red, and Georgie wanted to slap her.

“If I have to make a choice between you and Chaz, Chaz wins hands down.”

“As long as Aaron’s working for me,” Georgie said firmly, “he has free run of the house. I’ll expect you to make him comfortable.”

“Good luck with that.” Chaz flounced away with the watering can.

“What’s with her?” Aaron said.

“She’s having a little problem adjusting to the fact that Bram’s married. Don’t take any crap from her.” It was good advice, but Georgie had a hard time imagining mild-mannered Aaron holding his own against Bram’s viper-tongued twenty-year-old housekeeper.

After Aaron left, Georgie went outside, looking for Bram. They had plans to make, and he’d put her off long enough. She followed the gurgle of water to a small, irregularly shaped swimming pool tucked away in a private nook behind swaying grasses and a live oak. A four-foot waterfall splashing over shiny black rocks at one end added to the sense of seclusion.

She moved on and found him locked in his office. He was talking on the phone again, and when she rattled the handle to get in, he turned his back on her. She tried to eavesdrop through the glass but couldn’t make out what he was saying. He hung up and started pecking away at his keyboard. She couldn’t imagine what Bram was doing with a computer. Come to think of it, what was he doing out of bed before four in the afternoon?

“Let me in.”

“Can’t,” he called out without breaking rhythm. “I’m too busy looking up ways to spend your money.”