a silent but horrifying ghost. Just looking at the older man gave her the shivers. She’d be grateful not to be stuck in a car with him.
Ten minutes later, Pembroke didn’t seem so bad. Ruby was a gorgeous girl of many talents—but driving was certainly not one of them.
“Um, how long has Marty had this car?” Gloria asked lightly. She wasn’t sure if talking would help Ruby’s swerving or make things worse.
“About a hundred years,” Ruby replied. “He’s rich as they come, but he won’t replace this car until it stops dead in the street. If I knew more about cars I’d probably try to speed up that process somehow.”
Gloria laughed. “So, have you seen The Cat’s Meow?”
Ruby took her eyes off the road for a horrifying moment. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?”
“About auditioning, you mean?”
Ruby snorted. “I know you’ve been snooping around here.”
Gloria felt the blood drain from her face. She stared out the windows as rain began to fall. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Save it, honey.” Ruby honked the horn and hollered, “Get outta my way, nutty!” then dashed into another lane.
This is it, Gloria thought. I’m going to die.
“Forrest is as good a man as God has ever created,” Ruby went on. “If there’s anything dirty in that house, it’s not him.”
“Are you implying that somebody else’s dirty laundry might be hanging somewhere in Forrest’s house?” Gloria asked. Had the inheritance story been a lie after all? But why would Forrest lie if he really had done nothing wrong?
“It’s complicated,” Ruby said after a few moments. “But how about we make a deal: It’ll take me a few days, but I’ll get you the information you need. And I’ll make sure you snag the lead role in Moonshine Melody. In return, you’re going to make sure no coppers come after us when Forrest and I disappear on Saturday night.”
“I’m listening,” Gloria said in a measured voice. It sounded too good to be true. Freedom for her and Jerome, and the lead in a Broadway show? Sure, the show clearly wasn’t great, but it was still a Broadway show. Thousands of girls would kill for that kind of shot, and those were girls with tons of experience.
But if Gloria had learned anything in the past year, it was this: If something seemed too good to be true, it probably was.
“Forrest and I were in love a few years ago,” Ruby explained. “I was in the choir at my church back then, and Forrest always used to walk me home. He was so handsome, and smart, and … well, he was just the same as he is now. Only he was poor, and my father was set on my marrying Marty. Forrest and I talked about eloping, but in the end I was too afraid.”
Interesting. That made sense—their chemistry was too deep to have only developed over just these past few weeks. No wonder Forrest had been so fixated on Ruby! She was the one who got away. Now he finally had the money to get the girl, but it was too late. Or was it?
“Why are you telling me this?” Gloria asked.
“Because I know your story,” Ruby replied. “I’ve read all about you. You could’ve married that Sebastian Grey, had a horrible life—like mine. But you followed your heart. And now it’s time I did the same thing. Only I’m gonna need your help.”
Gloria watched the road blur by through the window, the trees combining in a mass of deep green through the rain. She’d wondered before what might’ve happened if she had stayed in Chicago and gone through with her marriage to Bastian. Living with Jerome in their closet of an apartment in Harlem, she’d even wondered if she’d made the wrong choice by running away from her easy, hassle-free life.
But looking at Ruby, Gloria could see that the hassles were what made life worth living—so long as love was waiting on the other side. Ruby was married to a wealthy man, had a dream of a career, was young and beautiful. All she could see, though, was the absence of the one man who had ever made her truly happy.
This was something Gloria understood herself. It was the same way she would have felt if she hadn’t picked Jerome. She had to help Ruby.
And also … the prospect of taking over Ruby’s part didn’t hurt.
“All right, Ruby, I’d say we’ve got a deal. You get me proof of where Forrest’s money comes from—something tangible