Betrayal Read Free Page B

Tallie’s long mane was natural, and the big difference between them was that Brigitte’s was always combed. She couldn’t have gone to work looking the way Tallie did, but she wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. And Tallie’s work was more physically arduous, she was always climbing ladders, or riding up on cranes to get a better view of the shot. She sat for hours in the sun, without bothering to put sunblock on despite Brigitte’s dire warnings about how wrinkled she’d get. Tallie would crouch on the ground behind a camera, or lie in the dirt to see the angle better. Tallie was a workhorse in every way, but even when she looked disheveled, she was beautiful, in a natural shining way. She seemed almost lit from within. Brigitte’s looks were more studied and took far more work to maintain. Tallie would never have the patience or the interest to look that way or invest the time and effort it took.
    “Thanks for driving me back,” Tallie said gratefully with a yawn. Now that she was relaxing, she realized how tired she was.
    “Close your eyes and go to sleep,” Brigitte ordered her, and Tallie did what she said with a peaceful smile. And five minutes later, as they got onto the freeway to L.A., Tallie was sound asleep, as Brigitte drove her home.

Chapter 2
    BRIGITTE SHOOK HER gently when they got to the house in Bel Air. Tallie didn’t like obvious shows of wealth, but she had a beautiful home that was simply decorated, with stark, modern open rooms, and a peaceful feeling to it. Tallie had no need for clutter in her life. She had a house in Malibu she rarely had time to use, the apartment in New York for Max, and a small apartment in Paris that she had bought with her first big success. It was something she had always wanted, although she hadn’t been there in two years, but she loved knowing she had it, and loaned it to friends occasionally. Brigitte had used it for her last vacation, and loved being there. Tallie had been in Africa on location while Brigitte had gone to Paris for a week. The perks of Brigitte’s job were nothing less than fabulous, which was what being a personal assistant was all about. You shared your employer’s life, and gave up your own to do it, and Brigitte’s own life fit easily into Tallie’s or around it. She had a date that night at ten o’clock, and if it turned out to be midnight because Tallie needed her for something, that was fine with her too.
    “You’re home,” Brigitte said softly as Tallie opened her eyes. The script changes were still on her lap, unread. But Brigitte was right, she could do it in the morning. She felt refreshed after she’d slept. For a minute, she didn’t know where she was.
    “Wow, I slept the whole way,” Tallie said with a grin, and looked like a kid sitting in the front seat of the Aston Martin outside her house. She still had all the pens and one pencil stuck in her hair. She added them one by one throughout the day.
    “Hunt texted me and said he has dinner ready. You’re a lucky woman,” she said, as Tallie opened the door of the car.
    “Yes, I am.” But they both knew that an arrangement like Hunt and Tallie’s had never been what Brigitte wanted. She liked her freedom and a variety of men, usually younger than she was, for only a short duration in her life, and most of them were actors working on Tallie’s films. She had a weakness for young actors who had the potential for behaving badly. She never kept them around long enough to give them that chance. She slept with them during the filming of the picture, and after that they both moved on. It worked for her.
    “I’ll pick you up at four-thirty tomorrow morning,” Brigitte called out to her, and Tallie waved as she got to her front door. She wanted to be back on the set by six. As usual, it would be a short night, and before she could unlock the front door with her key, it was opened by a tall, handsome man with dark hair and a beard wearing an apron over a T-shirt and