Page 43 of Fool Me

The question shocked Sadie clear out of her guilt. Her blue eyes blinked wide. “Women? What women?”

The staccato of rapidly approaching heels startled them both, quickly followed by a voice that needed no introduction. “Grant, sweetheart, is that you? It’s almost time for our reveal!”

The tip of a gleaming gold shoe came into view. Sadie couldn't let jealous Julia see them together in the quaint garden and suspect something was up between her and Grant, because Sadie absolutely, positively, wasn't going to do anything to hurt Grant’s career ever again. But it was too late to run—she’d never make it down the path without being spotted.

She took one last look at Grant, at the man who would have offered her everything had she not forced him away as a means of punishing herself. Her regret, she knew, would be lifelong. His hands were tented over his tilted down face, hiding whatever he might be feeling or thinking.

She barely felt the twigs digging into her skin from every angle as she drove herself deep between the nearest two sections of hedge, becoming one with the shrubbery.

25

Standing by the fountain, fingertips pressed to his skull, Grant had never had a more intense longing to open his eyes and gaze out upon a field of corn. Corn was simple. Corn was predictable. You planted it, and it grew. It didn’t try to fool you, and it didn’t lie to you either.

Sadie had admitted her ruse to him, or at least most of it, and her apologies had felt sincere, especially when she’d begged him not to let her mistakes affect his future happiness. He knew from one of her roommates (Trish? Abby?) that her parents had died unexpectedly, and that the family had been close, so Sadie hadn’t made that up for sympathy. He could see how a high schooler could blame herself for her parents’ deaths.

But that’s where his sympathies had to end because, instead of admitting to everything she’d done, she’d denied the worst part. It crushed him even to think it, but she was probably holding back because engaging in something as awful as hiring people to sexually harass someone could be career ending. It even had legal implications.

Through the plink-plonk of the water came a metallic clicking of heels on stone. A moment later, long cool fingers wrapped around his wrists. They tugged gently but insistently until his hands fell from his face.

“Grant, what are you doing out here?” Julia said. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you.” Instead of a Hawaiian flower print, her mini-skirt dress looked like a tropical fruit salad. Banana earrings dangled from her earlobes, and her thickly painted lips were a brighter red than Eve’s apple. A lei of fresh orchids adorned her graceful neck, their deep pink centers a perfect match to her nail polish.

She looked around while pushing her lips into a tighto. “I only came over here because I thought I heard voices. Were you talking to someone?”

Grant looked around too, but there was no sign of Sadie anywhere. He couldn’t fathom how she’d vanished so quickly, but just as well. Sadie and Julia coming face to face in that moment would have been terrible. “Sorry,” he said, deliberately ignoring her last question. “Right when I arrived, Ronny brought me over here to…to see the fountain.”

Technically, this was true. After being rejected…no, humiliated…by Sadie that morning and having his emotional world ripped out from under him by Julia’s revelations, Grant had existed in a sort of trance. The trance of the gutted. He hadn’t managed to eat, let alone get his hair cut or his car washed. His only accomplishment all afternoon, if one could call it that, had been to phone Ronny and tell him he needed a break, a good long break. Grant’s hands had shook as he’d made the call. Hearing himself tell Ronny he no longer wanted the male lead inSurf Summerhad been like an out-of-body experience.

But his resolve hadn’t mattered, because Ronny lit into him with a fury Grant didn’t know Ronny possessed. He refused Grant’s resignation, insisting instead that Grant come to the party a little early, and in some sort of appropriate party costume, for a “chat.” The moment Grant had pulled up in his convertible, Ronny had whisked him away to this fountain, and there Grant had stood, waiting, for at least fifteen minutes. He no longer planned to attend the party, so he felt stupid in the white Hawaiian shirt and slacks he’d previously been excited about wearing. The “chat,” Grant now knew, had been a Sadie ambush, which Sadie obviously hadn’t known about ahead of time either, judging by the way her face had drained of color upon seeing him standing there.

Julia glanced over at the fountain. “Ronny made you come all the way over here to admire this monstrosity he brought over from Italy? And then he left you alone?” She barked a laugh. “Well, good. I was afraid your little blonde whatsit might have shown up to try to kill your career again.” She ran her fingers through the fountain’s water droplets before reaching up and bopping Grant’s nose with a wet finger. He was getting a little tired of the nose bopping. “But you’re still on the naughty list, because you were supposed to be in the house waiting for me so that we could make our entrance together.”

“Oh, right,” he said. “Sorry.”

She gave him a pouty, mothering smooch on the cheek. “I forgive you. Just this once.”

“Thank you,” he said, forcing a smile. He rubbed at the spot where she’d kissed him, not wanting to be marked by gooey lipstick.

“I can’t stay mad at someone as handsome as my Farm Boy. And, anyway, we can make an even better entrance from this path.” She held out her hand to him. “Let’s go launch your acting career.”

Grant’s eyes raked the vicinity once more for a sign of Sadie. Had she left? Would he ever see her again? He knew in his mind he shouldn’t want to, but in his heart, he still desperately, desperately did.

He closed his eyes. No. I have to let her go.

Love at first sight was a fantasy and true love didn’t exist. Julia’s affections, as short-lived and shallow as he suspected they would prove to be, at least had the power to make him an overnight celebrity. Everybody else in this crazy town was focused solely on their careers, and it was high time he was too. With the money he’d earn fromSurf Summer, he could move back to Ohio if he wanted. Heck, he could buy his parents’ farm and watch corn grow the rest of his days. Or he could do another movie, and another after that until he could afford a house like Ronny’s. But first, he had to play Julia’s game. He had to star inSurf Summer.

Decision made, he took her still outstretched hand. “Lead the way.”

Just before they stepped out from the hedge wall at the end of the path and into the party scene, Julia paused, giving Grant time to take it all in. Ronny hadn’t been kidding about the sand. A large patio flanking an enormous pool had been transformed into a beach, complete with seashells, umbrellas, and tipped-up surf boards. Beach balls bobbed on the water, and strings of colored paper lanterns divided the pink and navy sky into graceful angles. The lanterns flickered faintly in the early evening. In an hour’s time, they would wash the sand in rainbow colors.

The guests—most of whom wore flower leis—chatted and laughed in small groups, their hands clasping tropical drinks. The pool looked so inviting, but swimming appeared high on no one’s list. “Ronny sure pulled out all the stops,” Grant said.

“Get used to it, darling, and so much more,” Julia said. She squared her genetically perfectly squared shoulders and began marching Grant straight into the crowd.

“Are you going to announce us or something?” Grant asked, feeling as if his entire future hinged on this moment.

“I’m announcing us right now,” she said through a plastered-on smile. “People are already watching.” It was true. Around the pool, people tapped the shoulders of their companions and pointed at them. “In a few minutes, I’ll hold your hand, and they’ll all be pulling their phones out. Marklia will be dead, and good riddance.”

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