“I don’t know,” Britt whispered. “He said he was going alone so... I don’t think so.”
“But... wait, Bip. Hasn’t he been staying with you? Where were you when she was staying the night at his house?”
She hesitated. “At my house.”
Damn.
Laine was pretty smart and she knew Britt all too well. She’d pick up on that hesitation.
Laine tipped her head and studied Britt in silence.
And then:
“Were you being pigheaded, Bip?” she said suspiciously.
“Way to be supportive, Lainie.”
“But you are. You’re pigheaded. I mean, it’s a good thing, too. You never quit. You also weren’t always the best at bending. Or admitting when you were wrong.Superobnoxious quality, by the way.”
Britt opened her mouth. A dry squeak of indignation emerged.
“I have a hunch you’re being pigheaded somewhere in this situation. I think you’re leaving a bunch of stuff out. Did heinviteher to stay with him?”
“No, she just showed up out of the blue with a script of a movie that she wants J. T. for, and she’s on her way to Napa, but—”
“Did he apologize to you for the unscheduled interruption in your, I dunno, fling? Affair? Sex-a-thon?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
“Did he try to explain what she was doing there?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe him?”
She hesitated. “Mostly,” Britt hedged. “Okay, I think I do.”
“Pigheaded,” Laine said triumphantly.
Maybe it had been a mistake to call Laine.
“But she’s his ex. And how the hell can I compete with Rebecca Corday, Laine?”
Laine, the celebrity lover, was clearly struggling with this concept, too. “Frankly, I don’t know how you couldresistcompeting with her, because that’s who you are. Is that what you and J. T. were fighting about? Do you think he wants her back?”
“He says no. But I mean, she is who she is. There’s a freaking billboard of her on the highway right here. And I think she wantshimback. She’s dangling a part he really, really wants. And Franco Francone says—”
Laine held up her hand. “Tell me you did not just say the nameFranco Franconein that offhand fashion.”
“He showed up in Hellcat Canyon, too, and he said Rebecca always gets what she wants. He has a little experience with her, as I’m sure you know.”
Now Laine’s eyes were narrowed. “Franco Francone?I’m starting to think you’re making all of this up.”
“I swear I’m not! Franco’s a bit player in this story, so pay attention, Laine.”
“Fine. Okay, think of all the exesyou’dnever want back, Britt. Do you think J. T. would play you? Or is he a good guy?”
Britt drew in a breath. J. T., the porch fixer, the cat feeder, red hot lover, the tender, funny honest guy—