by Nadia Lee
“It was arranged directly between the two of them.” Mira gives me a sympathetic look. I haven’t seen that expression on her face since Lauren died. “I know you chose her because you thought she’d be different. I thought that too, so I share the blame for not stopping you. But it’s only for a year. You have a good prenup in place. So count down to the day you can get rid of her and claim your grandfather’s painting. Meanwhile I’ll keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t do anything rash. She won’t get anything out of this except what’s in the prenup.”
“Shit.” I can’t take anymore. My entire body is numb with pain and a sense of betrayal.
I toss myself on the Barcalounger. I almost wish I could disappear right this moment. Fame is my biggest weapon…yet my biggest weakness.
Mira sighs. “I’ll take care of the party. It’s late anyway, so we can get rid of the few guests are still here.”
I nod tiredly, my eyes closed.
“I know you trusted her, and so did I. But we all know loyalty doesn’t last in Hollywood.”
With that parting remark, Mira leaves.
Hollywood is cutthroat, but I just can’t believe that Paige is like that. Anger bubbles inside me, and I can’t decide what I hate more—the fact that I wanted Paige to be honest or that I let my guard down, only to get kicked in the face.
Chapter Thirty
Paige
Ryder seems to have disappeared, but Mira does a good job of getting rid of the remaining guests. I stand next to her and say goodbye, thanking them for coming.
Even as everyone nods graciously, there are whispers all around, making the air vibrate with barely hushed anticipation. I don’t know what it’s about, but from the way their eyes keep turning my way, I know I’m involved somehow.
Are they still speculating about my dance with Anthony?
If so, there’s nothing more to see. That was a mistake I won’t be making again. Mira’s all smiles, but I sense fury behind her overly smooth and sweet tone. Most wouldn’t notice, but I’ve come to know her moods.
It feels like she’s upset with me, although I can’t figure out why. Yes, I screwed up with Anthony, but it’s not like her to hold a grudge over something like that, especially after I apologized and assured her it wouldn’t happen again.
Once it’s just the two of us, I turn to her. “What happened to Ryder? Is he feeling all right?”
“I don’t know. Should he be?”
I scrap my teeth over my lower lip, unsure at her tight voice. “If he’s still upset about Anthony, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him and make sure he knows it won’t happen again.”
With a snake-like speed I don’t expect, she grabs my upper arm. “Come here.” Mira drags me to a sitting room, away from the catering staff and housekeeping. She shuts the door with her foot and pulls out her phone.
“Tell me this isn’t you.”
She shoves it at me, and I take it and watch in puzzlement. It’s some kind of video, not the best quality. The lighting is poor, just one small lamp on a nightstand…a man and a woman are on the bed.
Then I hear the moans, and I can make out the people. My face flames when I recognize Shaun’s ass flexing on the screen. The lion tat is unmistakable. He shifts, and I can see a golden head over his shoulder. The hair’s spread out, and the woman’s face is half-turned away from the camera, but—
It’s me.
Bile rises in my belly to my throat, and I snap my mouth shut so I don’t throw up all over the place. I have no idea how Shaun filmed it without me noticing, but given the poor video quality, it was done with a cheap, small camera. From the angle it must have been in his closet, probably hidden under some clothes.
“How did you get this?” Panic clenches around my heart. I have a pretty good idea, but I want to know for sure.
“It’s all over the news and social media.”
“Oh my god… Ohmygod!”
I half-shriek and fan myself, pacing around uncontrollably. My face is so hot I feel like I’m about to combust with shame and humiliation. Mom and Simon…everyone will see this. Tears sting my eyes, and I hand the phone back to Mira.
“What do I do?” I ask.
She crosses her arms. “Why are you asking my advice? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
My jaw slackens. “Are you crazy? That’s the last thing I want. I’m going to be… I can’t even…”
“It’s free publicity. Not a bad way to start, especially with you planning an exclusive with Derek.”
That makes me stare at her. “I agreed to an interview, not to plaster my naked ass all over creation! And I didn’t make that video. Shaun must’ve done it.”
“Why?”
“He has an ego problem, which I didn’t realize until I started dating him. He thinks he’s god’s gift to the world. So who knows? Maybe he wanted to do it to show off. Maybe he wanted a memento of our time together. Maybe he beats off to it. I don’t know.”
Mira still looks at me, her eyes sharp with skepticism. “Then he should’ve watched it in peace. Besides, he hasn’t released tapes with other women, has he?”
“Don’t be obtuse, Mira!” I almost shout at her. “You know my being Ryder’s fiancée is going to put him right smack into the spotlight. I didn’t want this, okay? How am I going to face the people I know?” Then it dawns on me. “Is this the reason Ryder’s made himself scarce?”
“He’s understandably upset. Any fiancé would be, don’t you agree? This doesn’t look good.”
I bury my face in my hands. Of course. Who would be okay with something like this? It’s ugly and fucked up. And we’re only three weeks away from our big ceremony. With our upcoming nuptials still of interest to the public, this tape is going to get additional press. I can just see the way the talk shows are going to go.
Let’s talk about the grand and rather unexpected wedding between Ryder Reed and Paige Johnson.
Absolutely, but before we do that, have you hear about the scandal?
The tape? Of course! Who hasn’t?
Then there’s what Mira’s said before—when a woman has sex, she’s a slut. When a man does it, he’s a stud. This doesn’t hurt Shaun one bit. It might get him the face-time he wants on TV, a way to talk himself up…a first rung on the ladder to his dreams of acting.
“Where’s Ryder?” I ask. I have to talk to him before he jumps to conclusions.
“Shouldn’t you be looking up reporters’ phone numbers?”
“I don’t want this!” I yell. I can’t help it. This is my life. “Do you think I can face my parents with that out there? My friends? Can you just for once understand that not everyone wants to be famous?”
Mira’s gaze wavers for a moment, but her voice stays hard. “Last I saw, he was in his office.”
I turn and rush up the stairs as fast as I can in my four-inch heels and a floor-length gown.
Ryder’s still in his office. A scowl darkens his face, and his mouth and chin are set in grim lines. He is pacing, which makes my spine prickle. When he’s upset, he drinks. For him to pace… He’s beyond upset. He’s only a hairsbreadth away from blowing up.
“Ryder…”
His head snaps in my direction. His jaw works, but he doesn’t say a word.
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Are you?”
“I don’t know what happened. I didn’t make the tape, I swear.”
“Do you think I’m upset about the tape?”
I pause for a moment. “Aren’t you?”
He rubs his face with both his hands. “Why did you arrange for an interview with Derek?”
The interview? What does that have to do with the tape? “He contacted me. He has my number from that time when—”
“He was supposed to go through Christopher.”
“Yes, but Christopher wasn’t letting anybody interview me, and Derek thought I should be able to tell my side of the story. People are out there saying horrible things about me. Why shouldn’t I be ab
le to defend myself?”
“They’re just a handful of hateful comments,” Ryder says, flinging an arm out. “I can’t believe you fell for it. It’s the journalists’ job to make you feel like you have to talk to them.”
“They aren’t just ‘a handful’ of comments, Ryder. Have you seen them?” My chest rises and falls shallowly. I’m too upset now, as all my anxiety and unhappiness over the negative publicity floods into me. “They’re nasty. They’re calling me names because I am marrying you when I’m not a size two, or don’t have a model’s face, or don’t come with a huge trust fund in my name. They’re furious because I don’t deserve to be with someone like you. It’s my weight and it’s because I don’t fit the mold. Maybe any publicity is good publicity for people in the industry, but not for me. I never wanted this, and yes, I resent it, and I want to talk about how wrong they are to judge me based on my dress size or my job.”
Ryder’s gaze hardens, anger still seething in their blue depth. Nothing I said has penetrated.
“And I’m not paying for her mistakes,” I say.
“What are you talking about?”
“Lauren. You’re freaking out because of her, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Still, his face pales, and I know I hit the mark.
“You keep telling yourself that,” I say. I know it’s about her because of the way Julian kept taunting Ryder and the way he behaved with Anthony.
Fatigue and sadness weigh me down. Looking at his implacable posture, I know I’m wasting my time. Talking to him is like throwing eggs at a wall.
I walk away before I say anything else or give him a chance to make me even more miserable than I already am.
Chapter Thirty-One
Paige
I sit in my Altima, which is still in Ryder’s garage. It’s the only space that’s really mine in this monstrously luxurious home.
My hands shake. I should think of a way to fix this, but my brain can’t seem to focus on anything except the fact that there is a sex tape with me as the lead…and a lot of people seem to believe that I made and released it on purpose.
I guess that’s inevitable. Women have done it for publicity before. But Ryder? He should’ve believed me. Doesn’t he know me better than that?
Tears bead around my eyes, and I blink them away. God, it hurts so bad. I don’t even know why. It’s not like he ever loved me or anything. Maybe I let myself get too wrapped up in the roles we’ve been playing, forgetting that they’re fake.
I look at my phone when it pings with a new text. It’s Bethany.
I can’t believe that asshole! Isn’t it illegal to release revenge porn?
I swallow. I have no idea.
I’m gonna kill that SOB.
I text back, He’s not worth it. Don’t stress. Not good for the baby.
Are you kidding me? Where are you?
I start to type I’m at Ryder’s, but I change my mind. I think I’ll spend the night with Renni.
You sure? Bethany responds.
Things are pretty tense at Ryder’s place, I type. It’ll be better.
It takes a moment before Bethany replies. Want me to come over?
I sniffle. Don’t. It’s late. Bethany and Oliver live too far from Gary’s place, which is where Renni is now. Besides, I don’t want my sister getting dragged into the scandal for any reason. She’s pregnant, and she should focus on her baby, her husband and her newly funded ambition.
Okay, well… If you need anything, lemme know, Bethany texts. I love you.
Love you too.
We’re gonna find a way to get that bastard. I swear it!
I know. Except I don’t. Not really.
My phone rings, and I don’t recognize the number. Probably the media or something. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, and I no longer have any reason to jump for my phone every time it rings. Ryder won’t be calling me tonight. Several social media alerts buzz, grabbing my attention. Every single one of them is vile and hateful. My stomach twists until I feel like I’m about to throw up.
I toss my phone into the purse and start driving.
When I show up at Gary’s place a little over an hour later, it’s Renni who opens the door. She hugs me and pulls me inside.
“Oh my gosh, Paige. I’m so sorry. Come on in!”
Renni’s in a night tee and a pair of cotton shorts. I’m in my old t-shirt—not the one Josephine bought me with Ryder’s money—and frayed jeans.
My best friend shuts the door. “Gary’s out. He has a late shift, although he did text me during his break to ask what the hell is going on and why you aren’t responding.”
“Tell him I’m sorry. My phone’s been going off non-stop.”
I don’t mention all the horrible social media alerts. It seems like thousands of people are saying crap about me. A few have even threatened my life, vowing to run my fat ass over—or worse—because I’m a dirty slut who deserves to die horribly. They were already spewing hatred and bile, and it’s like the sex tape has poured gas on the fire. The intensity is breathtaking. I can’t help but wonder how many of them would be able to say those horrible things to my face.
We go to the living room. A sleeping bag is bunched up over to one side, and clothes lie haphazardly on the back of an old, black couch. Neither Gary nor Renni is neat. “Want something to drink?”
“No. I’m fine.” I don’t think I can take even a sip without puking it back up. My stomach’s knotted tighter than a sailor’s half-hitch.
We sit on a spot uncluttered with stuff.
“It’s gotta be Shaun. I’m going to kill him,” Renni says.
“He’s not worth jail time.”
“Ryder’s going to sue him, right?”
“I…don’t think so.”
Renni gasps. “Why not?”
“He doesn’t want to, and even if he does, I won’t let him. It’s just going to draw attention to the tape, which will only make Shaun happy by giving him the publicity he wants.”
She rests her chin in her hand. “So what’s the option? Are Ryder and Mira going to blackball Shaun?”
That would just about kill him, but I doubt that. Both of them looked like they wanted to strangle me. “They haven’t said anything like that.” I sigh. “I’m sure the wedding’s called off.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Even if he doesn’t call it off, I don’t know if I want to go on with the whole thing.”
“Oh come on. So you had sex. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Shaun’s the asshole for going public with private stuff, not you.”
“Yeah, but Mira has it right. She told me when a man has sex, he’s a stud, but when a woman does, she’s a slut. Nobody cares about the fact that Shaun violated my trust…or my privacy. The only thing that’s important is that I’m on that tape, naked and getting screwed.” I rest my elbows on my knees and place my forehead in my hands. “How am I going to face Mom and Simon? They’re still in town. And Bethany and Oliver?” I squeeze my eyes shut. I want to disappear into a hole and never come out.
Renni puts an arm over my shoulder. “Your family is sensible, and they love you. I’m sure they’ll support you.”
“I don’t know, Renni. It’s pretty bad.”
“So what are you going to do? Just sit here moaning about the situation? You’re tougher than Shaun or a hundred snide assholes on Twitter and Facebook. You’ll get through this and come out of it stronger.”
Tears well in my eyes. This is the kind of talk I wanted from Ryder. But he’s too wrapped up in his past, thinking about Lauren. I brush them away, but more keep falling, streaking my face.
Renni plucks a Kleenex and hands it to me. “Avoid the Internet for a while. Just turn it off. And if you want, we can have ice cream and you can spend the night here. I just got your favorite. Gary’s casa es tu casa.”
That earns her a watery choked up laugh from me. The offer’s so tempting. If I stay at Renni’s brother’s place, nobody’s goin
g to bother me.
At the same time, I don’t want to run. I haven’t done anything shameful, and I shouldn’t have to hide like I did something wrong. “It’s okay. I’ll go back. I need to anyway, to see my parents off.”
Renni nods, her expression stoic.
“But I’ll take you up on the ice cream.”
“Okay. I’ll get your favorite from the fridge.”
My favorite is Häagen-Dazs pineapple coconut, which Renni can’t stand. She’s more of a vanilla girl. She only ventures out to chocolate flavor when she feels particularly adventurous.
Fresh tears threaten to spill, and I blink them away. And when she brings the ice cream out along with a carton of vanilla, we sit side by side and eat in silence.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ryder
I know the minute Paige leaves the house. The men at the security gates alert me via text.
Should we follow?
The question is innocent. By “follow” they mean to sic a security detail on her.
Meanwhile a part of me thinks if I have her followed, I’ll know where she’s going, possibly figure out what she’s up to.
But it feels like such a gross betrayal to do that. Just because she might’ve betrayed me doesn’t mean I’m going to stoop to the same level. No, I respond.
Pissed off and antsy, I go downstairs to raid the kitchen. We had all kinds of expensive stuff for the party, and I know there have to be leftovers.
I stop short when I see Elliot at the counter with Elizabeth. “What are you still doing here? Mira said everyone left.” I walk around them and get myself a bottle of scotch and a glass, which I fill to the rim. Elizabeth’s radiating enough disapproval to give me a tan, but I don’t give a damn.
Elliot tsks. “Everyone as in every guest. We’re family.” He pushes his empty tumbler my way.
I snort, but pour him two fingers’ worth.
Elizabeth peers behind me. A glass of chilled Riesling sits in front of her. “Where’s Paige?”