Beach Town by Mary Kay Andrews

here.”
    â€œWell, somebody started a real shit storm,” CeeJay said. “And Bryce is not happy. He’s had the media calling his office all day. And, of course, Kregg’s manager went ballistic when the media started calling him. He even threatened to pull out of the movie.”
    â€œHe can’t really do that, can he?”
    â€œNah. Bryce has him under contract, and anyway, his manager knows this is a great start for Kregg’s transition from music to movies. The guy’s just blowing smoke, I think.”
    â€œOh God. You don’t think Bryce is gonna fire me, do you? I need this job, CeeJay.”
    â€œI think he just needs to blow off some steam,” CeeJay said. “He’s not gonna pull you off the project before it even really gets under way. Just tell him what you told me. I already told him there’s no way you would have deliberately let the cat out of the bag. He’ll probably yell and raise hell with you, and that’ll be it.”
    â€œHope so.”
    â€œYou leave him to me,” CeeJay said. “I gotta get back to packing. Did I tell ya, when we get back from Florida, Bryce wants me to move into the big house with him?”
    â€œThat’s great, CeeJay. Out of the garage apartment and into the house. I guess that means things are going good between the two of you?”
    â€œI hate to jinx it, but yeah, things are great. His ex has a new boyfriend, so she’s kind of taking a break from squeezing his balls, which is nice.”
    â€œHas he filed for divorce yet?”
    Silence.
    â€œCeeJay?”
    â€œLook. You know how messed up legal shit is. His ex wants to clean him out and take half of everything. It’s ridiculous that he should have to fork over a pile of money to that bitch. You know she’s never had a job? In, like, ever? All she does all day is go to yoga and shop. Bryce’s lawyers are trying to figure out how to keep her from taking him to the cleaners. It takes time. Right?”
    â€œI guess.”
    â€œDon’t use that tone with me, young lady.”
    Greer laughed. “I’m not judging. I just want you to be happy. You deserve somebody wonderful, who wants to be with you. That’s all I’m sayin’.”
    â€œQuit worrying about me. I can take care of myself. You hear? I am happy. Bryce is amazeballs. We are going to make a kick-ass movie and all will be well. See you Monday, right?”
    â€œRight.”
    *   *   *
    She waited all day for the other shoe to drop. Finally, since it was Saturday night and she was weary of microwaved popcorn and take-out pizza, she decided to treat herself to a real dinner—at what Ginny promised was the best restaurant in town.
    For the first time all week, Greer took some pains with her appearance. She blew her hair dry to straighten out some of the curl and applied a bit of brown eyeliner and mascara. Most of the clothes she’d packed were strictly utilitarian—jeans and T-shirts, some capris and tank tops, but she had thought to throw a dress in her suitcase.
    It was an old dress of her mother’s, actually. Greer had liberated the Mexican cotton wedding dress while sorting through her mother’s clothes. Most of Lise’s clothes had been too flashy for Greer’s taste, but there was something endearing about the simplicity of this piece.
    The dress, a seventies throwback, was a fine white cotton minidress with a scooped, drawstring neckline, hand-embroidered bodice, and loose, bell-shaped sleeves. She added a string of turquoise and coral beads she’d picked up during a shoot in Santa Fe, and some turquoise and silver drop earrings, and slid her feet into a pair of leather sandals.
    She set out to walk to the Cypress Key Inn, feeling oddly self-conscious in the short dress and jewelry.
    Saturday night was apparently the hot night in town. Cars and trucks lined Pine Street, and diners sat at tables on