He gave her an uncomfortable glance.
“It was a mistake, Gia. Plain and simple. We knew I was going to ship out overseas within weeks, but we did it anyway.” He shook his head. Even though he was often so impassive, she sensed his feelings clearly at that moment. He was disgusted at the memory of his weakness. His vulnerability. Compassion swept through her, a clear, concise note that pierced her stunned confusion at his admission. She put her hand on his. He glanced into her face.
“We’re all young once. It?
?s not a crime. That’s what you told me once,” she said softly. His hard mouth tilted slightly. It felt like a band was constricting her chest, and she realized why. “You really loved her, didn’t you?”
“I thought I did, yeah. I was wrong. I barely knew her,” he finally said gruffly. Something about the stiff manner in which he said it made Gia suspect that not only had he never admitted it out loud, he had rarely allowed the truth even to himself. He inhaled slowly. Her clasp on his hand tightened. “Have you ever met her? In your work?” he asked after a tense silence.
“I met her briefly at a Screen Actors Guild luncheon last year,” she admitted, cringing inwardly when she thought of how awestruck she’d been upon meeting Zoe. She recalled all the idiotic praise that had come rushing out of her in the presence of her patient, forbearing idol.
“You must know how magnetic she is, then. She was every bit as potent at age twenty-three. I couldn’t resist her. Most men couldn’t, and she couldn’t resist the ones that could help her with her dreams of getting out of a little town in the middle of the desert and into the Hollywood limelight. I must have seemed a likely candidate in the absence of any better options. But I was off for a tour of duty in Iraq within eight weeks of our marriage. I couldn’t get her out of Barstow fast enough. Nor could I do it in the grand fashion she wanted. When a movie producer wandered into the bar where she worked one day, scouting out territory for a shoot, her fate was sealed. So was mine. She got out of Barstow the second the producer twitched his finger,” Seth explained flatly.
“She went with him?” Gia asked, dread settling in her stomach. “Even though she was married to you?”
“She not only went with him, she married him a few weeks after our divorce was finalized. If you look up her bio, the man who walked into that bar in Barstow is the one listed as her first husband and the man who gave her her first break in Hollywood. She’s on husband number three presently—according to her official bio, anyway.” He glanced at her face and must have noticed the compassion she was feeling for him. He turned over his wrist and grasped her hand. “Don’t look like that. It’s not some dramatic tragedy. I was a kid. It stung for a while, especially when I started seeing her movies. Luckily, I had a life of my own, and I lived it fully. I was halfway across the world. Time and distance taught me how naïve I’d been. It wasn’t an easy lesson to learn, but I learned it.”
“You learned it so well, you avoid all actresses,” Gia said hoarsely, staring blankly out the wall of windows.
“It wasn’t just because of Zoe that I have that attitude,” he said sharply. “I worked in the industry when I left the Army. I entered it knowing full well it was a world of grandeur, but illusion as well. I’ve learned how to navigate it, over the years.”
“You’ve learned how to thrive in it. But you keep yourself at a distance from many of the people in it,” Gia said, nodding her head. Finally, she understood. She didn’t like it, but she understood. Something struck her and she laughed bitterly. “Why couldn’t you have fallen in love and married some crackpot I could disregard? I mean . . . Zoe Lindsay. She’s such a class act. I thought she was, anyway,” Gia added, frowning. “The way she ran off on you was about as classless as it gets.”
“We were young,” Seth repeated tiredly.
“Were you faithful to her while you were married?”
“Yes,” Seth replied calmly.
Gia just arched her brows significantly.
He twitched his shoulder. “None of it matters now. I just . . . wanted to tell you.”
“I appreciate it. I do,” she repeated when he met her stare. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to talk about. I get that you never do talk about it.” He nodded and pulled her hand onto his thigh. Both of them stared at their hands as he idly stroked her wrist with long fingers for several seconds of silence.
“Do you guys ever see each other?” Gia asked suddenly.
“Rarely. We’re always polite when we do. Lindsay—Zoe, I mean—has made it clear she doesn’t want the press to know she was married to someone else when she ran off with her producer. Image and all,” he said, giving her a dry glance.
“Do you mind? Playing along with her story?” Gia asked cautiously. She really couldn’t get a bead on whether or not Seth was still torn up from a youthful infatuation with a Hollywood goddess or if he was truly cynically disinterested.
“No,” he said. “I don’t like to think of myself being so stupid. Colluding with her helps me not to have to think about it.”
“And you’re such a private person. I’m sure the last thing you’d want is to have your name linked with hers.” She sighed heavily. “I think you’re far too forgiving of her though. She sounds like a real bitch.”
“She’s ambitious. That’s one of the things you admire about her. Isn’t it?”
Her mouth fell open at his quiet question. So, he had heard her say Zoe Lindsay was her idol.
“I do. I did, I mean,” she amended. “Isn’t it possible to be ambitious and decent at the same time?”
“Maybe.”
“You are,” she whispered fiercely.
He squeezed her hand. She lifted her face. He watched her with a sober focus. Her heart seemed to spasm in her chest. She held her breath when he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “I’m not as close to the fire as you are,” he said against her mouth. “And in case you haven’t figured it out yet, you have the power to catch hold and burn brighter than even a Zoe Lindsay.”
A sense of helplessness went through her.