Broken Hearts, Fences and Other Things to Mend (32 page)

ride listening to him tell the poor pi lots and crew about how they

all need to eat like cavemen too.” Rosie reached the door and yanked

it open before the bell had even rung. “Hi,” she said, sounding

surprised. “Can I help you?”

I made it down the last few steps and walked around to see

who was there— and my heart stopped for a second when saw

it was Hallie, in a dress and heels, standing on the doorstep with

a shopping bag.

“Hi,” Hallie was saying to Rosie with a big smile. “I’m here to

see—”

“Hello!” I practically yelled, throwing myself in front of Rosie

before Hallie could fi nish her sentence. “Hi!” Rosie looked at me

curiously, and I babbled, “This is Hallie. She’s a friend of mine.

She’s coming with me to night.”

“Oh,” Rosie said, her expression relaxing. “Nice to meet you.”

At least I didn’t have to worry about either one of them recogniz-

ing the other, as Rosie hadn’t started working for Bruce until I

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was thirteen. “So how do you know Ge—”

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“Rosie!” I interrupted loudly. I truly had not been aware of

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how often people said my name before I had to try and fend off

every instance of it.

“Yes?” she asked, turning to me. She was frowning, maybe

worrying that I hadn’t quite recovered after all, or that the food

poisoning had gone to my brain, or something.

“Didn’t you have to get back to packing?” I smiled at her, but

raised my eyebrows signifi cantly, hoping that she’d take the

hint.

She raised her eyebrows in return, and I knew she’d under-

stood me. “Sure,” she said easily. “You girls have fun to night.”

She gave us a wave and then started up the staircase toward her

room.

I turned back to Hallie. “Hi,” I said, trying to ease the door

closed behind me and hoping she wouldn’t think it was weird

that I wasn’t asking her inside. But this was the reason I’d made

plans to pick
her
up. I had been hoping, once inside her house, to

fi nd the suit and try and get rid of the receipt evidence once and

for all. But aside from losing that chance, her being here was

much too close for comfort. It was one thing for Josh to come in-

side Bruce’s house when we were both violently ill and had no

other options. But to have Hallie here was a potential minefi eld.

My dad was still working in his offi ce, just a few rooms away, and a

glimpse of him could blow my whole cover. “Wasn’t I supposed to

come and get you?”

“I know,” Hallie said with a shrug. “But I was ready early, and

thought I’d drop these off!” She handed me the bag, and I looked

down and saw that it contained the shirt and sweatpants I’d lent

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Josh, washed and folded.

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“Oh, great,” I said, taking the bag and tossing it into the

house behind me, in the general direction of the stairs. The last

thing I wanted was to leave her alone while I brought it to my

room— or worse, had to explain why she couldn’t come with me.

“So we should leave. Like now, maybe?”

“I thought I heard a car!” I turned and saw, to my horror,

Bruce emerging from his offi ce and fl inging the door wide. His

face fell when he saw Hallie. “Oh,” he said. “I guess you don’t have

my pizza?”

“Nope,” I said quickly. “And we’d better get going.” I had suc-

cessfully prevented one Bruce and Hallie run- in and I didn’t want

to give them any opportunity to remember where they might

have known each other from. I grabbed my purse, beyond grate-

ful that I’d left it on the hall table, within easy reach. I’d in-

tended to toss in a lip gloss before leaving, but I decided just to

forget it. Where we were going, there was nobody that I would

need or want to impress.

“So thanks for pulling the strings, Bru— you,” I said. “See you

later!” I had just stepped outside and was pulling the door shut

when Bruce pulled it open again, frowning.

“Sorry,” he said. “But this has just been bugging me.” He pointed

at Hallie. “Have we met before?”

“You met the other day,” I jumped in quickly. “In the drive-

way, remember? When you were . . . running.”

“Ah yes,” Bruce said, and I could see him color slightly at the

memory. “Right. I’m Bruce Davidson.”

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I kept a smile frozen on my face, trying to look like I wasn’t

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having an internal meltdown. Even if Hallie recognized Bruce’s

name, why shouldn’t Sophie Curtis and her family be friends with

Bruce too? Was he allowed to have only one friend, or something?

“I’m Hallie,” she said, and I was incredibly grateful that she

didn’t include her last name. I doubted Bruce would remember

Karen’s last name, but I didn’t need anything that might jog his

memory.

Bruce gave her his producer’s handshake, then smiled at me.

“It’s great to see you making friends,” he said, and I couldn’t help

but wish he’d phrased that in a manner other than one that made

me sound like a inept pariah. He turned to Hallie. “And how do

you know Ge—”

“Train station!” I yelled, cutting him off before he could get

to my name. “We met at the train station. Right?”

“Right,” Hallie said, giving me a slightly confused smile.

“We should go,” I said, a little desperately. The last thing I

needed was for Bruce to drop a reference to “Gemma’s dad” be-

fore I could stop him. “Bruce, we’ll talk before you leave about

that project, okay?”

Bruce nodded. “I’ll get it on the calendar,” he said. “In fact . . .”

He looked back and forth between us, and his eyes lit up. “Since

you’re both here, maybe your friend wouldn’t mind if I picked her

brain too? It’s for a movie I’m working on,” he explained.

“Actually,” I said, as fi rmly as possible, hoping to channel my

inner Rosie, “now’s not the best time, Bruce. We’re going to be

late. But—”

“Wait a second,” Hallie said, turning to him, her expression

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doubtful. She looked from me to Bruce, like she was trying to

fi gure something out. “Bruce. Davidson,” she echoed, her voice

fl at. “Are you telling me . . .”

An icy feeling crept over me. It was over. Hallie had fi gured it

out. I was about to be exposed, right then and there. And it wasn’t

the receipt, or some slipup of mine. It was all due to Bruce and a

pizza. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the end.

“You’re Bruce Davidson, the producer?” Hallie’s voice had now

risen a few octaves and decibels, but she sounded excited, not

furious. I opened my eyes and saw that she looked dazzled.

“Well—yes,” Bruce said, frowning at her. “Do you . . . know

my work?”

“I’m a huge, huge fan,” Hallie gushed. “I love your movies! I

had no idea that you were staying with the Hollywood elite,” she

added, to me.

“Oh—right,” I said quickly. “I guess I just forgot to mention

it.” My heart was pounding hard, but with relief. Hallie hadn’t

put it together. She just knew Bruce’s movies, which was a little

weird, and liked them, which was even weirder. But clearly
some-

one
liked Bruce’s movies, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to

afford this house and his multiple alimony payments.

“I just loved
Ever and Always,
” Hallie was gushing to Bruce. “I

thought you were robbed at awards season.”

“The awards in this country are so politicized,” Bruce said

dismissively. “The foreign awards are really the ones based on

merit. In fact, a few years ago, in the UK, I won the Spotlight

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award.”

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At the mention of this award— currently with Ford in Hawaii

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for repair—

my stomach plunged again. “Um,” I said, a little

feebly.

“What an honor,” Hallie said. “Is it as gorgeous up close as it

looks in the pictures?”

“Better,” Bruce said. He smiled happily, and I could tell he’d

now completely forgotten about the pizza. “I actually have it here,

if you want to see it.”

“I would love that,” Hallie said, giving me an
isn’t this cool?

look that I tried my best to return.

“Great!” Bruce said. “Let’s—”

“Um,” I said, louder this time, “actually . . .”

“Bruce!” Rosie called. A moment later, she appeared at the top

of the staircase, and shook her head when she saw us all still

grouped around the door. “Your call started twenty minutes ago.

Why don’t you leave the girls alone?”

“Hallie here was just telling me what a big fan she is,” Bruce

protested.

“Really,” Rosie said with a laugh. She paused and looked down

when she saw both Bruce and Hallie nodding. “Really?” she asked

again, her voice now heavy with disbelief.

“Apparently, I’ve reached the youth market!” Bruce enthused.

“And—”

“Call,” Rosie said fi rmly, cutting him off. “Now.” She folded

her arms and stayed put, not giving Bruce a chance to keep talk-

ing to us— or, even worse, to try and show Hallie an award that

was currently MIA.

“Nice to meet you,” Bruce said in a voice that sounded like he

—-1

knew when he was defeated. “Any friend of—”

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“Bruce!”
This was Rosie, in just the nick of time.

“Coming,” Bruce called as he gave us a wave and headed off to

his study.

“It’s so cool you know Bruce Davidson,” Hallie said, turning

to me.

“I guess,” I said. “I mean, I’ve known him all my life, so it’s re-

ally not that impressive to me.” Also, when you’ve seen someone

bribe delivery people and eat a cupcake in under ten seconds, it

really prevents them from ever being impressive to you again.

“But I’m surprised you know his work.” After all, I wasn’t sure I

could name all movies Bruce had made, and there were posters

of them decorating the house.

“Oh, totally,” Hallie said with a shrug. “I’m a huge movie fan.

And I have a really good memory, so if I see someone’s name in

the credits, it’s pretty much locked in there forever. I don’t forget

anything
.”

I swallowed hard. “Oh.”

“So you said we should get going?” she asked, adjusting her

bag on her shoulder.

“Right,” I said, springing back into action. “Bye!” I yelled into

the house, to nobody in par tic u lar, then stepped outside and shut

the door behind me.

“Okay if I leave my car there?” Hallie asked, pointing to the

Jeep parked in the driveway.

“Sure,” I said, leading the way to Bruce’s SUV. As I thought

about the distance we’d have to drive to night, I realized that maybe

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my dad had been on to something with wanting me to get a job. I

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might need one soon, if only to keep this thing fi lled with gas.

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We buckled in and I pulled out of the driveway, feeling myself

begin to relax the more distance I put between us and the house.

That had been close, but I had prevented any major catastrophes.

“So,” I said, turning in the direction of the highway that

would take us back into Long Island proper, “thanks for return-

ing that stuff. But I told Josh that he could keep it.”

Hallie shook her head. “Josh is like the most honest person

on earth,” she said. “He never would have kept something that

wasn’t his. Things are kind of black and white with him that way.”

Hallie reached into her tote and pulled out a lip balm, but didn’t

apply it, instead just rolled the tube between her fi ngers. “About

the other night,” she said, her voice hesitant. “When Josh stayed

over . . .”

She let the sentence trail off and I jumped in. “Because we

were sick,” I said quickly. “He didn’t feel up to driving.”

“So,” she said, looking over at me, and I saw her expression

was serious. “There was nothing else?”

“No!” I signaled to take the entrance ramp to the highway. “We

were just having dinner as friends when we both got sick. Nothing

more. I promise.” I could make this promise easily, because noth-

ing else
had
happened, but was it entirely the truth? Hadn’t there