Genuine Lies

again. “I hope you don’t feel obligated to entertain us while we’re here. We realize how demanding your schedule must be. As soon as it’s convenient, you and I can work out the times best suited to you for interviews.”
    “Eager to get to work?”
    “Of course.”
    So, she’d been right in her judgment, Eve thought. This was a woman who had been trained—or had trained herself—to push straight ahead. Eve sipped the tea and considered. “All right then, my assistant will give you a schedule. Week to week.”
    “I’ll need Monday morning to take Brandon into school. I’d also like to rent a car.”
    “There’s no need for that.” She gave a dismissive wave. “There’s a half a dozen in the garage. One will suit. Lyle, my driver, will take the boy to school and back.”
    “In the big white car?” Brandon asked with his mouth full, his eyes wide.
    Eve laughed before sipping her tea. “I think not. But we’ll see that you have a ride in it now and again.” She noted he was eyeing the tray again. “I once lived with a young boy just about your age. He had a fondness for petits fours.”
    “Are there any kids here now?”
    “No.” The shadow came and went in her eyes. She rose then, a swift and casual dismissal. “I’m sure you’d both like to rest before dinner. If you go through the terrace doors and follow the path to the pool, the guest house is just to the right. Shall I have one of the servants show you?”
    “No, we’ll find it.” Julia stood, placing a hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
    At the doorway Eve paused and turned. “Brandon, if Iwere you, I’d wrap a few of those cakes in a napkin and take them with me. Your stomach’s still on East Coast time.”
    She was right. Brandon’s first coast-to-coast flight had his system jumbled. By five he was hungry enough that Julia fixed him a light supper from the small but well-stocked kitchen in the guest house. By six, cranky with fatigue and excitement, he nodded off in front of the television. Julia carried him into his bedroom, where one of Eve’s efficient servants had already unpacked his things.
    It was a strange bed, in a strange room, despite the addition of his Erector set, his books, and the favorite toys that had traveled with them. Still, as always, he slept like a rock, not stirring when she stripped off his shoes and slacks. Once he was tucked in, Julia called the main house to give Travers her apologies and regrets for dinner that evening.
    She was weary enough herself to consider slipping into the tempting whirlpool tub or directly into the king-size bed in the master suite. But her mind refused to shut off. The guest house was both luxurious and tasteful, a two-story structure with warm wood trim and cool pastel walls. The curving stairs and open balcony gave it a spacious, informal feel. She much preferred the gleaming oak floors and colorful throw rugs to the acres of white carpet in the main house.
    Julia wondered who might have stayed in the guest house, enjoying its own tidy English garden and the warm, scented breezes. Olivier had been a friend of Eve’s. Had the great actor brewed tea in the charming country-style kitchen with its bright copper pots and little brick hearth? Had Katharine Hepburn fussed in the garden? Had Peck or Fonda napped on the long, cushy sofa?
    Since childhood Julia had been fascinated with the people who made their living on screen or stage. Briefly in her teens she had dreamed of joining them. A crushing shyness had caused her to sweat her way through auditions in high school plays. Desperate desire and determination had won her roles, fed the dream … and then there had been Brandon. Amother at eighteen, Julia had changed her course. And she’d survived betrayal, fear, and despair. There were some, she felt, who were meant to grow up early and fast.
    Different dreams, she mused as she slipped into a frayed terry-cloth robe. She wrote about actors now, but would never be one. Knowing her child slept safe and content in the next room left no room for regrets. And knowing her own strength and competence would help her give her son a long and happy childhood.
    She was reaching up to take the pins from her hair when she heard a knock at the door. Julia glanced down at her faded robe, then shrugged. If this was home for the time being, she had to be able to relax in it.
    Julia opened the door to a pretty young blond with lake-blue eyes and a bright smile. “Hi, I’m