When You Were Mine (Adams Sisters)

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When You Were Mine (Adams Sisters) Page 17

by Byrd, Adrianne


  “I don’t know about you,” Laurence said, “but this must be fate.”

  Chapter 26

  Six Months Later

  Ryan arrived home and said nothing to the driver as he stepped out the vehicle and into the chilly night. Tired, he exhaled gloomily as he stared at his sprawling mansion and wondered for the umpteenth time why he needed such a large place.

  The answer once again came in a rush: in his line of work it was more important to appear successful than to actually be successful. Lucky for him; he was both.

  As he’d requested, no employees greeted him as he strolled through the door. As usual the house’s silence was deafening and the cold...humbling.

  In the foyer, two sets of arched staircases ascended to the second level of the house. Ryan bounded up the right side, taking two steps at a time. He peeled out of the suit that he would undoubtedly never wear again and headed straight for the shower.

  He paid no heed to how hot the water turned or how much the large bathroom filled with thick clouds of steam. His tangled thoughts focused on one thing and one thing only: Ms. Joseph H. Adams. He’d hoped that time and distance would weaken the memories and salve the pain.

  He was wrong.

  As it turned out, he remembered everything about the elusive beauty, and it seemed as if nothing would mend his broken heart. Not work, not alcohol, not other women¾though he tried. The results: his...little problem returned.

  Too bad women couldn’t suffer the same ailment. However, he did pray Joey suffered with chronic headaches and a nonexistent libido whenever a man touched her. It was only fair.

  Hours after La Belle Vida finished filming, Ryan hopped the first plane back to L.A. He wanted to return sooner, track Joey down and drag her back to Milan--but Zach all but pounded reason into his hard head. He was in the middle of a fifty-million dollar production and no doubt the investors and producers would skin him alive, literally, if he walked off set.

  However, now that he knew Joey as Joseph and the writer of his dream script, it took no time at all to contact her agent and obtain Joey’s address and phone number. The problem was getting her to call him back.

  He was still waiting.

  Shortly before being boiled alive, Ryan stepped out of the shower and toweled off. When he opened the door to the adjoining bedroom, a billow of steam preceded him.

  His mind wrapped around all the things he could do to win Joey--all the things he could do to prove he wasn’t with her just to win a bet or that he thought of her as a notch on a bedpost.

  He’d sent flowers, jewelry and even a car--but everything was refused and sent back. When each gift returned, Ryan’s desperation grew. Somewhere along the way when he wasn’t looking Joey Adams stole the one thing he’d spent a lifetime guarding: his heart.

  Somehow, some way, he had to get her back¾her and their future eight children.

  #

  “Joey turned down two million dollars?” Sheldon thundered, above baby number five’s cranky wails. “Is she crazy or something?”

  “I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt and say the ‘or something.’” Michael rolled her eyes while her hairdresser finished pinning the French roll in her hair. “Let’s not forget all the media hoopla she endured when she returned from Italy. Everyone wanting to know the 4-1-1 on her and Donovan.”

  “Don’t you hate it when celebrities complain?” Sheldon chuckled. “I still say she should take the money. She’s been at this screenwriting thing forever and a day and finally a studio wants to buy a script and she turns it down? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Baby number five screamed.

  “Shh, child. Shh.” Sheldon unceremoniously whipped out a breast and proceeded to breastfeed.

  “Geez. Will it kill you to warn someone before you do that?” Frankie frowned as she eased into the chair in between Sheldon and Michael.

  “What? Breastfeeding is natural.”

  “So is doing a number one and number two and I don’t want you doing those in front of me, either,” Frankie snapped.

  “What the heck is the matter with you?” Sheldon asked.

  “This damn wedding.” Frankie tossed down her tube of mascara. “I can’t believe you two are okay with this.”

  The hotel room’s door opened and hurried Peyton rushed through, carrying her pale blue bridesmaid dress. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Don’t be sorry, we’ve only been here a few minutes ourselves. Sheldon dragged all five of the rug rats with her,” Frankie griped.

  “Of course I brought them. Ashley is the flower girl,” Sheldon defended. “You’re just mad that George isn’t coming.”

  “Of course, he’s not coming,” Michael said. She closed her eyes and allowed the makeup artist to brush on heavy strokes of blue eye shadow. “He didn’t come to my wedding, either.”

  “Or mine,” Peyton added.

  “Hell, I don’t think he came to mine either,” Sheldon said.

  “No one went to your wedding--you eloped. Remember? You two pulled a Janet Jackson and didn’t tell anyone you were married for a full year.”

  Sheldon shrugged. “Daddy would have killed us.”

  “He should have. You were seventeen,” Michael huffed.

  “Say what you want. We’re still married.”

  Peyton and Frankie watched to see if Michael would explode to the reference of her pending divorce.

  However, Michael smiled, though tightly, and said, “When you have a point, you have a point.”

  “Are you going to move back to San Jose?” Peyton asked, settling into her own chair to wait her turn with the hairdresser.

  “I’m already packed. Of course I worry about Joey.”

  Peyton perked. “Hey, did you guys hear about the--”

  “Two million dollars,” Michael, Frankie, and Sheldon said in unison.

  “Yeah. We heard,” Michael said.

  “You know she’s not taking the money because it’s Ryan Donovan’s production company. She thinks this is his way of buying his way back into her life.”

  “Hell, for that kind of money, he can have my spot,” Sheldon said.

  “Hear, hear.” The sisters agreed.

  #

  A nervous Lincoln picked up his brother-in-law, Flex, from the airport. He’d put a lot of planning into today, and Peyton wasted no time or breath in telling him when her brother picked up on what Linc was doing, he was going to flip.

  “Are you sure this is a good, idea?” Ronald asked for the tenth time today. “This could be seen as an ambush.”

  “Nah, nah,” Linc waved him off with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Flex will love you…I mean, he’s going to like meeting with you.”

  “Yeah, but he’s just coming in town for a family wedding. It might not be a good time--”

  “Will you trust me on this?” Linc smiled, mostly because he was certain that he’d found the right man...partner...person for his lonely brother-in-law. He glanced over at his selection and supposed that another man would find the tall, lean brother attractive. He certainly thought Ron’s affluent position, as vice president of Silicon Valley Bank, was a major plus, and if things worked out would be a great reason for Flex to move back to California.

  Linc agreed with the Adams sisters. It was just too hard keeping tabs on him in another state.

  “Linc, over here!” Flex shouted above the crowd.

  Lincoln perked up and made another glance over at Ronald. Sighting his unkempt collar, Linc reached over to straighten it. “Remember, you’re just a friend of the family invited to the wedding,” he coached.

  “I got it. I got it.” Ronald laughed. “Now, stop it, you’re making me nervous.”

  “Right. Right.” Linc exhaled and turned toward the baggage claim. “Show time.”

  #

  “She turned down the money?” Ryan paced the study, shaking his head. “Does she have a better offer?”

  Zach stretched back in Ryan’s leather armchair. “I do
n’t think so. If you ask me, she’s trying to prove a point.”

  “What point?” Ryan exploded exasperated.

  “That’s she not interested in your money, the flowers, the jewelry or the car. Of course, if you feel you must give someone a Mercedes--Columpie un amor pequeño mi manera.”

  “What’s with the Spanish?”

  “Well, since Nation’s isn’t for sale, Universal has a Spanish thriller they want you to look at.”

  “What am I? The United Nations of filmmaking?”

  “I’m just saying that it’s a good script. The writer was listed as a co-writer of Candyland--”

  “Say no more. My answer is no.” Ryan selected a new cigar from his desk. “I want Joey’s script. Offer her another five hundred thousand.”

  “She’s not going to take it,” Zach said matter-of-factly. “She thinks you’re buying the script as a way to get back with her.”

  “Did you tell her I’ve been trying to get this script green-lighted for six years?”

  “Yep.” Zach crossed his legs at the ankles. “And she didn’t believe me.”

  “This is insane.” Ryan huffed, lighting up. “I’m offering her way more than market price for a non-credited screenwriter,” he ranted.

  “I wonder,” Zach said thoughtfully.

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “I’m just wondering if you know yourself whether you’re upset about this on a professional...or personally level.”

  “It’s both,” Guadalupe answered, marching through the study’s doorway. “If you ask me, you went about this all wrong,” she fussed.

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “So now everyone wants to give me pointers on my love life?”

  “Someone needs to,” Guadalupe sassed. “You think just because I don’t live in some big mansion or make insane amount of money play-acting in front of a camera that I don’t know matters of the heart?”

  The two men looked at each other and came to the quiet understanding not to argue.

  “Sure you can razzle-dazzle a woman with flashy things, but to capture a woman’s heart cost nothing and yet everything at the same time.”

  Ryan stared at her, waiting for more, but when Guadalupe seemed finished on the subject, he jumped in. “Well...I guess that clears that up.” He popped his cigar back into his mouth.

  “You no understand, do you?” She jabbed a fist into her thick waist.

  Once again, Ryan glanced to Zach but only received a blank stare.

  She rolled her eyes. “Jesús, me da fuerza.”

  Zach chuckled.

  “What is the one thing you value you more than anything?” Guadalupe crossed over to his desk and then jabbed at his chest. “What is the one thing, you spend your whole life protecting?”

  Ryan was slowly catching on.

  “Your heart,” she answered her own question. “Anything you can buy with your money means nothing...because it comes easy to you. Understand? A woman who wants to plant roots and bear children will want something from you that no other woman has. And that is your heart. You give her that and she will make you the happiest man in the world.”

  Her words left Ryan speechless.

  “In that case, I think you better hurry,” Zach said, his face reddening. “There’s something I forgot to tell you.”

  Chapter 27

  “You set me up on a blind date to a family wedding?” Flex hissed at Linc as they entered the hotel suite to don their tuxedos. “I thought we’ve been over this. I want the family to butt out of my love life.”

  “What’s the big deal?” Linc shrugged. “You didn’t have a date.”

  “That’s not the point.” Flex snapped, punching his arms through the sleeves of his starched shirt. “Do you have any idea how many blind dates my sisters has set me up for?”

  “C’mon. Ronald is--”

  “One hundred and twelve,” Flex said with irritation twitching in his jaw. Should I tell you how many of them weren’t successful?”

  “But Ronald is--”

  “One hundred and twelve.”

  “Okay, okay.” Linc tossed up his hands. “So you’ve had a bad run. It doesn’t mean you should toss in the towel.”

  Flex shook his head and fumbled with his tie. “You’re as bad as they are.”

  “And you’re just being difficult.” Lincoln wrestled with his tie. “I’m trying to do something nice for you--”

  “Who asked you to?”

  “C’mon, man. You saved my life once, remember? Not to mention you really helped me win Peyton--”

  “That doesn’t count. I was tricked into coaching you in winning P.J.’s hand.”

  “The point is, I want to return the favor. And though I don’t know anything about the gay dating scene, I do know Ronald is a very nice man with your sense of humor and it doesn’t hurt that he has a great job. I assume those attributes are important across the board.”

  Flex grunted.

  Linc took Flex’s response or lack of one as a sign of a weakening defense. “He’s a football fanatic and has an amazing car collection.”

  Flex was silent for a moment, and then, “Who is his favorite team?”

  “Carolina Panthers.”

  Flex’s eyebrows leaped upward while his lips compressed into a straight line.

  Lincoln wasn’t fooled. The panthers were Flex’s favorite team as well. Encouraged, he shamelessly threw out more bait. “You know, Ronald invited Peyton and I over for dinner after my last art show. I tell you the man should open his own restaurant.”

  “He can cook?”

  “More like a culinary genius.” Lincoln hid his smile as he turned and retrieved his tux’s jacket.

  Flex cleared his throat. “Well, I guess since he’s already here it would be rude not to, you know, talk to him.”

  “Yeah. That’s all I’m saying. Talk to him,” Linc encouraged.

  Flex nodded and then suddenly his expression sobered. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.” He wagged a finger. “This thing can and probably will be the one hundred and thirteenth disappointment.”

  “See. You’re going into this with the wrong attitude.” Lincoln strolled over and swung his arm around Flex’s shoulders. “Just trust me on this.”

  Flex groaned just as the suite’s door opened and a grinning Marlin strolled inside. “So, is everyone ready for the wedding of the year?”

  #

  Joey stared at her reflection in the mirror and hardly recognized the woman in the glass. The same was true for the last six months. However, it didn’t stop her from hoping to snatch glimpses of her former self from time to time; yet, so far no such luck.

  A knock rapped on the bathroom door, and Peyton’s voice filtered through the wooden partition.

  “Joey, are you all right?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be right out.” She held her breath and waited to see if her lie would be successful.

  The band of silence stretched tautly and threatened to break, but then Peyton weary exhalation also seeped through the door and then the sound of her slight footfalls padded away from the door.

  Joey’s eyes returned to the woman in the mirror. She was so tired of her family constant inquiries and overbearing “good intentions” that she could scream. Weddings were supposed to be happy and that was what she was determined to be. She forced on a smile, but a fine film of tears glossed her eyes from the effort.

  “Goddamn it, Joey.” She dropped her head and closed her eyes. A few tears were caught in the web of her eyelashes. “It’s been six months. Get over it.”

  Her heart squeezed in answer to her request; however, her head swore it wouldn’t allow her to ever make another fool out of them. It was bad enough that she had galloped across the globe after one man; she wasn’t going to do the same thing for someone who thought there was a price tag on her heart.

  Another knock sounded on the door, this time the voice belonged to Michael. “Joey, it’s time to go downstairs.”

  Joey snatche
d a blue Kleenex from its box on the counter and blotted her eyes.

  “Joey,” Michael’s voice softened. “Are you ready?”

  Drawing a breath, Joey pressed a hand down her dress. “As ready as I’m ever going to be.” She turned and headed out the bathroom.

  #

  Ryan made the drive from Los Angeles to San Jose in a little over three hours in his Porsche Carrera GT. Of course, it also included four speeding tickets, but he will deal with that at another time. Right now he was in a race to reach the Fairmont Hotel in the heart of San Jose.

  However, he had no clue to what he was going to do once he reached the place. Was he going to burst into the wedding on his hands and knees or was simply showing up enough to jar Joey to her senses?

  When Zach revealed Joey had turned down their last offer and then casually mentioned she had a wedding to get to by three o’clock, Ryan barked and nearly planted his fist in the middle of his friend’s jaw. But he didn’t have to glance at his watch to know that he didn’t have time to kill his friend. He would do that later if he didn’t reach the wedding in time.

  He didn’t have to question who Joey was marrying. The answer was obvious: Dr. Laurence Benson, asshole surgeon to the stars. Ryan’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. Just the thought of what the former love-birds have been for the last six months while he was love-sick and impotent skyrocketed his blood pressure.

  Then quite suddenly a memory played in Ryan head. A memory of his flight to Italy:

  “So it was love at first sight with you and Larry?” Ryan inquired, not bothering to veil his sarcasm.

  “Not exactly,” Joey plunged ahead either ignoring or not picking up on his tone. “The stars were just lined up correctly. I’m the right age, he meets all my qualifications¾”

  “What?”

  Joey blinked. “What, what?”

  “Whatever happened to flowery prose or poetry? Things like ‘I knew we were meant for each other the moment his hand touched mine’ or ‘the first time we kissed a bolt of lightning shattered my world and I knew I could never live without him?’ Isn’t that the kind of crap women eat up?”

 

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