To Seth it did. He didn’t like being lied to. He didn’t know which of Gia’s lies of omission bothered him more—the fact that she’d misled him about her age or the fact that she belonged to the profession he routinely avoided when it came to sex, relationships and romance. Yes, she’d worked on Broadway at the time, and not in films, but she was already being sought out for the title role in Glory Girl, her film debut. He had good reason to believe she had omitted the truth about her profession on purpose.
Seth didn’t do actresses. And most people who worked with him, including Gia’s friend Liza, knew that.
“If she really is that ambitious, maybe she doesn’t regret all the press. It wouldn’t be the first time in history an actress thrived on publicity,” Seth said.
“She can’t have wanted what happened to her and her driver yesterday, being run off the road like that . . . Seth?” Charles prodded, and Seth realized he’d become lost in his thoughts. “We could really use you on this.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Charles.” He nodded toward the door and the makeup room. “You saw what I’m dealing with out there.”
“You said on the phone this is the final day for shooting this movie,” Charles said. Seth rolled his eyes, both resigned and frustrated, he’d revealed that tidbit of information before he knew exactly what Charles wanted.
Charles chuckled, knowing he’d caught him out. “Will you just meet us for a consultation at least? Madeline really wants you,” he persisted, leaning across the desk and handing Seth a card. Seth glanced stonily at the card with the Los Angeles County district attorney’s address on it. “Tomorrow at noon?”
“Does Gia Harris know what you’re planning?” Seth asked pointedly.
Charles shook his head. “No, and she’s not going to like it when we tell her. Especially the part about Madeline maneuvering to have her shooting postponed. But given what happened yesterday, we’ve got to convince her that it’s not feasible—or safe—for her to continue as if everything is normal. A lot is hanging on Gia’s testimony, not only for us, but for the feds’ future case.”
Seth didn’t want to see Gia Harris again.
He did. Too much. Which is precisely why he shouldn’t.
But dammit, this meeting with Charles had started alarms blaring in his head. Yes, he’d rather avoid Gia.
But he didn’t want to see her hurt or blackmailed either.
Or dead.
How responsible and guilty would he feel if he learned something had happened to her and he could have helped prevent it?
He frowned and stood. “I have a really bad feeling I’m going to regret this,” he informed Charles pointedly as he shoved the card into his jeans.
* * *
Gia gave a little sigh of relief when the deputy du jour stopped following her ten feet away from the conference room door. She was starting to feel like she’d acquired a permanent shadow. It was damn disconcerting.
God curse narcissistic wack jobs for interfering with my life.
The bitter thought and a dozen similar ones flew through Gia’s head as she walked across the threshold of the conference room attached to Madeline’s office. She thought she’d become accustomed to facing off with lawyers and judges and the formidable Los Angeles County district attorney. But there were two men sitting at the oval conference table tonight that sent a shock through her.
Shit.
“Joshua.” She said the director’s name numbly, pausing at the entry to the room. “Dan . . . uh, Mr. Arden,” she amended, blushing. She’d met the superpowerful movie producer and United Studio executive twice, but his silver-gray full head of hair and the aura of prestige, power and money that surrounded him seemed to discourage first-name usage.
What were the director and executive producer of her next movie doing here, in Madeline’s offices? Was she in trouble for causing an increase in security, on and around the film set all this week?
Joshua Cabot stood at her entrance, along with Arden, the assistant DA Charles Trew, and an FBI agent she’d met briefly, called Alex Demonico. Gia knew the FBI wasn’t officially involved in the state’s case against Sterling McClarin, but it had been made clear to her that a lot was riding on the success of the state’s prosecution for a potential future federal indictment.
Madeline Harrington, the Los Angeles County DA, remained seated, although she gave Gia a warm smile. Gia had come to learn that Madeline stood up for no one but her presiding judge.
“We thought it would be helpful to have Joshua and Dan
here to discuss your future plans,” Charles Trew said enigmatically.
“I don’t understand,” Gia said, putting her purse down in an empty chair and sitting at the same time everyone else did. She looked at Madeline Harrington bemusedly. She’d learned in the past months that Madeline was sharp as a honed knife and just as dangerous, should the occasion arise, but also surprisingly motherly and compassionate at times.
“After what happened yesterday,” Madeline said gently, “you must realize things can’t go on like this. The media shitstorm is only going to get worse the closer we get to the trial.”
“What do you mean things can’t go on?” Gia asked warily, glancing at a compassionate-looking Joshua Cabot and a stony-faced Dan Arden. “My life can’t go on? My job? I don’t understand. Why are you here, Joshua?”