disastrous marriage. Adulterous hadn't been one of them. "Seth's not the problem."
"What is?"
The phone rang in the outer office. "That is."
"What?"
"Hang on."
Beth tapped her own headset to answer the call. "Cassie Bryant's office, Aquila Foundation." She listened for three seconds. "I'm sorry, Ms. Bryant has no comment, and she does not take personal calls at work." She clicked off, her expression unmarred by emotion. Her unshakeable calm was part of what Cassie had loved about her even before she reconciled with Seth.
"Reporters," she told Georgie. "Seth isn't going to do anything to harm our relationship, not after working so hard to get us back together."
"Julian says he's been completely clean, even with all the stress of the album sales and stuff."
Cassie wasn't worried about Seth's addictions, either, but--
"Julian Manchester is clearly up to his old habits. One can only wonder if Seth Graham is, as well, and if those will prove to be deadly to his tender new relationship with ex-wife Cassie Bryant."
The phone rang again.
"There. That's the problem," Cassie griped to her friend. "Seth's not using, he's not cheating, but every time he goes out of the house we have to contend with reporters making insinuations and other reporters calling me to get my reaction, like I'm going to pull a Sienna Miller or something."
Georgie snorted. "The nanny was the one who blabbed to all the--"
"It doesn't matter."
Cassie was actually more worried about her friend. No matter how many times Georgie told her the thing between her and Jules was casual, Cassie wasn't convinced. She saw the look in Julian's eyes any time Cassie mentioned Georgie, and she felt the sparks when they were in the same room. When a year passed and those sparks were still flying--and the parties involved still snuck off to have sex in the closet--the thing was more than casual.
"So what do you think?" Cassie asked.
"About what?"
Julian bent and planted one on the wide, ruby-red mouth of the woman he handed into the limo, patted the bare knee that was about two feet below the hem of her "skirt," and straightened to mug for the cameras one more time before they cut to commercial.
"I told you, she's not available..." Beth's cold, clipped voice faded as she exited the office and closed the door. Georgie still didn't speak.
"Honey? You okay?"
When she answered, her voice was tight. "We don't have an exclusive arrangement," she said.
"I know, but..." But sleeping with women like that--not that Cassie could judge her by thirty seconds on TV--and then sleeping with Georgie, well, that was playing a dangerous game, whether emotions were involved or not.
"You protect yourself," Cassie wasn't sure what else she could say. Georgie knew what she was doing. She always knew what she was doing, starting with the moment she decided they needed another chance at that lost night twenty years ago. They'd all gotten more than they bargained for, but Georgie had never wavered.
"You know what pisses me off most." Georgie sounded normal again.
"That they called them Silverettes?"
"Fuck, yes."
Cassie grinned. "Me, too."
* * * *
The lights were dim backstage, save for a couple of security lamps high on the hallway wall. Everyone had gone home--the crew and the suits and the hangers-on, and most of the band. Seth stumbled into the cavernous central dressing room and fell, missing the couch by a few inches.
"Bugger," he grumbled, slapping an arm on the couch and trying to pull himself upright. The vague shapes swam and stretched, making him dizzy.
"Watch it, mate." A warm, long-fingered hand shoved his away and a body rolled onto its side. "Unless you want to get serious about what you're toying with."
"Juli." The name came out a sob. Seth tried to pull himself together. "She's gone, Juli. What will I do without her?"
"Who?"
"God, you know who." Seth managed to crawl onto the couch. Julian shifted his legs to make room. Seth dropped his face onto his hands and
"What is?"
The phone rang in the outer office. "That is."
"What?"
"Hang on."
Beth tapped her own headset to answer the call. "Cassie Bryant's office, Aquila Foundation." She listened for three seconds. "I'm sorry, Ms. Bryant has no comment, and she does not take personal calls at work." She clicked off, her expression unmarred by emotion. Her unshakeable calm was part of what Cassie had loved about her even before she reconciled with Seth.
"Reporters," she told Georgie. "Seth isn't going to do anything to harm our relationship, not after working so hard to get us back together."
"Julian says he's been completely clean, even with all the stress of the album sales and stuff."
Cassie wasn't worried about Seth's addictions, either, but--
"Julian Manchester is clearly up to his old habits. One can only wonder if Seth Graham is, as well, and if those will prove to be deadly to his tender new relationship with ex-wife Cassie Bryant."
The phone rang again.
"There. That's the problem," Cassie griped to her friend. "Seth's not using, he's not cheating, but every time he goes out of the house we have to contend with reporters making insinuations and other reporters calling me to get my reaction, like I'm going to pull a Sienna Miller or something."
Georgie snorted. "The nanny was the one who blabbed to all the--"
"It doesn't matter."
Cassie was actually more worried about her friend. No matter how many times Georgie told her the thing between her and Jules was casual, Cassie wasn't convinced. She saw the look in Julian's eyes any time Cassie mentioned Georgie, and she felt the sparks when they were in the same room. When a year passed and those sparks were still flying--and the parties involved still snuck off to have sex in the closet--the thing was more than casual.
"So what do you think?" Cassie asked.
"About what?"
Julian bent and planted one on the wide, ruby-red mouth of the woman he handed into the limo, patted the bare knee that was about two feet below the hem of her "skirt," and straightened to mug for the cameras one more time before they cut to commercial.
"I told you, she's not available..." Beth's cold, clipped voice faded as she exited the office and closed the door. Georgie still didn't speak.
"Honey? You okay?"
When she answered, her voice was tight. "We don't have an exclusive arrangement," she said.
"I know, but..." But sleeping with women like that--not that Cassie could judge her by thirty seconds on TV--and then sleeping with Georgie, well, that was playing a dangerous game, whether emotions were involved or not.
"You protect yourself," Cassie wasn't sure what else she could say. Georgie knew what she was doing. She always knew what she was doing, starting with the moment she decided they needed another chance at that lost night twenty years ago. They'd all gotten more than they bargained for, but Georgie had never wavered.
"You know what pisses me off most." Georgie sounded normal again.
"That they called them Silverettes?"
"Fuck, yes."
Cassie grinned. "Me, too."
* * * *
The lights were dim backstage, save for a couple of security lamps high on the hallway wall. Everyone had gone home--the crew and the suits and the hangers-on, and most of the band. Seth stumbled into the cavernous central dressing room and fell, missing the couch by a few inches.
"Bugger," he grumbled, slapping an arm on the couch and trying to pull himself upright. The vague shapes swam and stretched, making him dizzy.
"Watch it, mate." A warm, long-fingered hand shoved his away and a body rolled onto its side. "Unless you want to get serious about what you're toying with."
"Juli." The name came out a sob. Seth tried to pull himself together. "She's gone, Juli. What will I do without her?"
"Who?"
"God, you know who." Seth managed to crawl onto the couch. Julian shifted his legs to make room. Seth dropped his face onto his hands and
Similar Books
