Partner Games
Page 26

“Right. I’ll talk to Georgie.” And I’d tell her what dicks these two were. Upset, I tried to force a smile to my face as they left. As soon as they did, I crammed more pastry into my mouth and chewed resolutely, thinking. There was no way on earth that I was going to abandon the guys. Not when they’d had our backs every round. I didn’t care if the other teams didn’t like it. If it was against the rules for us to share info and help each other, the producers would have said something. But they hadn’t, which told me that Drew and Foster were making this up to scare us. Either that, or we needed to have a heart to heart with the other teams…
Nah. Scratch that. Other than Jendan and Annabelle, I didn’t really care about any of the others on the race. Team Daddy? The Red Hats? The Doctor Moms? Nope, nope and nope. Screw ’em.
I was finishing off the last bite of a particularly yummy Danish when Georgie dropped onto the bench next to me. I gave her a wary look, because she had the same determined expression on her face that Drew had just a moment ago.
“So,” Georgie said as I finished my breakfast. “Can we talk?”
“We definitely need to talk,” I agreed. I was going to tell her what the Green Machine had just threatened. My cheeks heated at the memory of their words. Your little boyfriends. Was I so obvious as to how I felt about Swift? Probably. Which made it doubly embarrassing.
Georgie drummed her short nails on the wooden table and glanced around. Then, she leaned in. “Not going to talk here. Somewhere private?”
My eyes widened. Oh God. She must have heard me and Swift making out last night and wanted to give me the Big Sister speech. “Um,” I said, hating how strangled I sounded.
She gestured off to the side of the hill. “That way, maybe?”
“Okay.” I licked my fingers, glanced around to see if anyone else — okay, Swift — was around. Everyone seemed busy with their own thing, and over in the corner, I could see Jendan and Annabelle poring over a map of Europe and laughing quietly amongst themselves. I didn’t see Plate or Swift anywhere, which I supposed wasn’t a bad thing. So I nodded at Georgie and stood. “Lead the way.”
The Swiss countryside was idyllic and lovely. Green grass meadows full of tiny flowers and fluffy clouds overhead made the place feel like paradise. Add in tiny cottages and mooing cows and I felt like I was in The Sound of Music. If Julie Andrews came over the hill in the next moment, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
Georgie gripped my hand tightly – so tight that I was a little worried about her. What had happened between now and last night that was setting her off? Had the Green Machine approached her, too, and that was why she was so upset?
Or was she mad at me because Swift and I had, um, gotten a little cozy last night? She’d been snoring, so I’d thought she was asleep. Maybe I’d been wrong about that.
She clutched my hand and dragged me over a waist-high wooden-post fence, then into a field nearby filled with small flowers and verdant grass. Cows wandered in the distance, and up ahead I could see the slopes of the gorgeous mountains. I was panting, breath short in the high altitude. “How much further are we going?”
She glanced around. “I guess this is fine. You want to sit?”
I peered at the grass, hoping I wouldn’t find any cow patties. When it looked safe, I sat down and curled my legs under me. Georgie sat down across from me instead of next to me, and she hugged her knees tight. For a moment, she looked lost and lonely and incredibly sad. My heart thudded in my chest at the sight of this expression on my twin’s face. “Georgie, what’s wrong?”
She inhaled and glanced around, still considering. Then she looked at me, and I could tell that she was fighting to remain calm. “I’m having a hard time, Clemmy.” Her voice was a small whisper.
No shit, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I reached out and squeezed one of the hands she had on her knees. “You haven’t been acting like yourself. What is it?” When she hesitated, I felt a stab of hurt. “I’m your twin. You can tell me.”
She nodded, as if bracing herself. “I just…it’s difficult.” Her hand went to her shorter hair and she raked her fingers through it, agitated.
I was silent. If she couldn’t bring herself to tell me, it must be a really bad secret. My stomach knotted as a thought occurred to me. “Is it…is it about Swift?”
“What?” She looked surprised. “No. It’s about me.” Her entire body trembled.
The knot in my stomach grew. “Say it, Georgie. I won’t judge you.” I was her other half. I’d never judge her. In my eyes, Georgie was never lacking. Sometimes unpredictable, but only because I knew her so well that when she acted out of turn, it shocked me because I knew her like I knew the back of my hand. It was one reason why Georgie’s irrationality was so disturbing to me.
She sniffed as if fighting back tears. “So…I quit modeling.”
That wasn’t what I’d expected to hear. “You what?”
“I quit. About a month ago.” She shrugged and glanced away, staring hard at the cows at the far end of the pasture.
“But…why? I thought you loved it!” God, Georgie was famous and swimming in money. Men all over the world worshipped her. She’d been on the cover of Sports Illustrated. Her career was in full bloom…or so I’d thought. Why had she quit?
She swallowed hard again. “So…remember when I got that new agent two years ago?”
Vaguely. My sister had changed agencies and her career had skyrocketed. She told me her new agent was really well connected and that was why things were suddenly falling into place. “What about him?”
“Scott knew everyone in the industry. The big photographers, big studio guys. You name it. Thing is…” She swallowed again. “You had to be what he wanted if you were going to get anywhere.”
“What he wanted?” I echoed. The sick feeling in my stomach continued. “I don’t understand.”
“See…” Again, she raked a hand through her shorter platinum hair, so different than my own. “You had to do what the clients wanted. You dated them. Hung out at their parties. If they wanted you to wear something a little skimpy, you did it. And that got you jobs. It’s all who you know, right? Well, they’ll remember you if you make a good impression. Or so my agent told me.” Her expression grew distant again. “And I guess I didn’t realize he was playing head games with me for a long time. You know he kept telling me I was too fat for regular jobs, right?”
“He did?” Georgie’s at least fifteen pounds lighter than me, and I’m lanky. She’s a beanpole. There was no way she was too fat.
“Yeah. He told me the only way I’d get work was to be friendly. Real friendly.” The look of shame on her face told me everything.
“Oh, Georgie,” I said softly.
Tears spilled out of her eyes. “I tried not to let it get to me, because I was getting work, you know? And everyone was suddenly demanding Georgie Price.” Her fingers swiped the tears off her cheeks. “So what if I had to give someone a hand-job after a modeling shoot? There were girls that would be jealous of where I was, right? I kept telling myself that, and kept trying to like myself afterward. You know how hard it is to look yourself in the mirror after you gave a sixty-year-old man oral in the hopes of walking a runway?” She laughed, but it turned into a choked sob. “It wasn’t until last month that I figured out that I wasn’t much more than a hooker for these guys.”