What I Did for Love (Wynette, Texas #5)(54)

He wandered over to the wall behind her office couch and took his time studying the plaques and photos on display—civic commendations, professional certificates, shots of her with various celebrities, none of whom she actually represented. Georgie was her only high-profile client and the major source of her income.

“I want Georgie in the Greenberg project,” he said.

Somehow she kept her smile even. “The bimbo vampire story? An interesting idea.” A horrible idea.

“It’s a great script,” he said. “I was shocked at how clever it is.”

“Genuinely funny,” she agreed. “Everyone’s talking about it.”

“Georgie will bring a new dimension to the story.”

Once again, Paul was ignoring his daughter’s wishes. Revenge of the Bimbo Vampire, despite its funny premise and witty dialogue, represented exactly the kind of role Georgie wanted to get away from.

Laura tapped her fingernails on her desk. “The part could have been written for her. I just wish Greenberg weren’t so determined to have a dramatic actress play the lead.”

“He only thinks he knows what he wants.”

“You’re probably right.” She rolled her eyes. “He believes bringing in a serious dramatic actress will give the project more credibility.”

“I didn’t say this was going to be easy. Earn your fifteen percent and make him see her. Tell him she loves the script and wants to do it more than anything.”

“Absolutely. I’ll talk to him right away.” How the hell was she going to convince Greenberg to meet with Georgie? She had much more confidence in Paul’s ability to steamroll his daughter into going after a part she didn’t want.

“You know…” She’d only found one shoe, so she couldn’t stand, which gave Paul the advantage of being able to tower over her desk. “They start shooting next month, and Georgie’s demanded six months off.”

“I’ll take care of Georgie.”

“She’s basically on her honeymoon, and—”

“I said I’d take care of her. When you talk to Greenberg, don’t let him forget how perfect her comic timing is and how much female audiences identify with her. You know the drill. And remind him about all the press she’s getting. That’s going to sell tickets.”

Not necessarily. Georgie’s success as a tabloid darling had never translated into big box office. She nudged the legal pad on her desk. “Yes, well…You know I’ll do my best, but we have to remember this is Hollywood.”

“No excuses. Make it happen, Laura. And make it happen quick.” He gave her a curt nod and walked out.

Her head ached. She’d been so thrilled six years ago when Paul had chosen her instead of one of the other agents at Starlight to represent Georgie. She’d viewed it as her big break, belated recognition for a decade of hard work during which she’d been passed over by a dozen young Ivy League hotshots with half her experience. She hadn’t understood that she’d made a deal with the devil, a devil named Paul York.

Her dreams of becoming a Hollywood power player seemed laughable now. She didn’t have the cockiness of the other agents, or their flash. The only reason Paul had hired her was because he wanted a mouthpiece he could control, and the top Starlight agents wouldn’t play his game. Her livelihood, which now included a luxury condo, depended on her ability to carry out Paul’s wishes.

She used to pride herself on her integrity. Now she barely remembered what the word meant.



Over the next four days, Bram met with another potential investor, who was no more willing to gamble on him than the rest had been. Georgie took two more dance classes, got an inch snipped off her hair, and worried about her future. When that became too depressing, she tried persuading Meg to go shopping. But Meg was wise to the ways of Hollywood.

“If I wanted my face plastered all over the pages of US Weekly, I’d go out with my parents. You guys chose this life. I didn’t.”

Meg went horseback riding instead, and Georgie endured a difficult lunch with her father at L.A.’s newest luncheon hot spot, where they sat in a leather booth beneath a sheet metal chandelier.

“Revenge of the Bimbo Vampire is brilliantly written and really funny,” he said, digging into his grilled steak salad. “You know how rare that is.”

He pushed the bread basket at her, but she didn’t have much appetite. For the past two weeks, Chaz had been feeding her mountains of mac and cheese, slabs of lasagna. True, the edges of her bones had begun to lose their sharpness, and her cheeks had stopped looking like fatal cave-ins, but she was fairly certain that wasn’t Chaz’s intent.

“I’m sure it’ll do amazingly well. But…” She poked at a bowl of lemon risotto and fought to hold on to her resolve. It was her life, her career, and she had to carve her own path. “I need a break from playing emotional lightweights. I’ve paid my dues, Dad, and I don’t want to sign on for another comedy. I want something that’ll challenge me, something I can get excited about.”

She didn’t bother bringing up the six-month vacation she’d fought for so fiercely. She needed to get back to work as soon as possible just to avoid spending so much time around Bram.

He leaned back in the booth. “Don’t be a cliché, Georgie—another comic actress who wants to play Lady Macbeth. Do what you’re good at.”