Graham stopped, breathing hard. His hand was on the doorknob to the outside, but he glanced up at her rather than leaving. He looked no different than he had that morning, she thought sadly. Maybe a little paler, but the same guy. The sick feeling Lauren had dealt with all morning rose in her throat again, but she pushed it down.

“Go,” she said to him, pointing to the door. “Out there. I’ll meet you.” Then she glanced at Andrea. “I’ll talk to him alone, okay?”

“Okay.” Andrea didn’t look pleased. “But I’ll be close.”

Graham obeyed. They stepped into the blinding sunlight, and Lauren led Graham to a shady area near one of the other sound stages. The curb was littered with cast-off bicycles, empty cardboard boxes, cigarette butts. It was desolate, but at least there were people zipping by in golf carts every so often—and Andrea wasn’t very far away. For a while, there were only the sounds of Graham’s heavy breathing. The longer he didn’t look at her, the more she was convinced that all her suspicions were true.

“I called your office, and you weren’t here the afternoon Piper got hurt,” Lauren said. “And now I don’t know what to think. Who are you?”

Graham looked up, his eyes full of defeat. “I didn’t do anything to her. I promise.”

“But where were you, really? Because you weren’t shooting.”

Graham pressed his lips together and looked down. “Somewhere else. It’s complicated.”

“Try me!”

Graham’s eyes flashed, and he backed away from her a step. “Keep your voice down, Lauren. Okay?”

It was the look he got when she became worked up. The same look he’d had in the car after the breakfast—or, for that matter, from the night in the kitchen. Lauren could feel the rage coming on, but of all the times to feel enraged, now was a pretty justifiable one—and he wasn’t going to make her feel bad about it. Besides, if Lauren lost her shit, Andrea was close.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she asked.

“Because . . . I want nothing to do with her. She’s crazy, Lauren.”

Lauren felt a sharp prickle of fury. “Oh, she’s crazy now, too?”

Graham shut his eyes. “Lauren. Come on. It’s me. I love you. Think about what you’re saying.”

“But why hide that you dated? Tell me. Please.”

On the thoroughfare, a few people passed, happily chatting. Graham glanced over at them longingly, probably wishing that he could go back to this morning, when he had his life—and wife—under control. “I should have told you about Piper. But it was such a mess . . . and I didn’t come out of the relationship looking great. I fucked up, okay? I’m so sorry.”