A Hollywood Bride (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 2)
Page 16
“What are you doing here?” He rubs sleep from bleary eyes. “What time is it?”
He stands aside so I can walk in. At least the penthouse is clean. Stacks of magazines lie neatly in a rustic basket, one he brought back from Tuscany a couple years ago. The glass tabletop is dust-free, the white couches are spotless, and the hardwood floor has a fresh coat of wax. There’s even a vase full of fresh daisies on the dining table.
Not that any of it is due to him, of course. Elliot is a complete pig who couldn’t figure out how to turn on a vacuum cleaner if you taped the switch to a stripper’s nipple. His housekeeper comes by four times a week to keep the place neat. Otherwise the government would seize it for health code violations.
“It’s late morning.” I check my watch. “Actually, it’s noon.”
He yawns, his jaw cracking. “Yeah. Early. I didn’t come home until six.”
“You still hitting the strip clubs?” I sit down on a couch and try to stretch out. My neck and lower back are tight, and it’s not from working out.
“Yup.” Elliot sprawls in an armchair.
“So what’s taking so long? Is there a bimbo embargo or something? Just pick one and marry her.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not? It’s only for a year.”
“I can’t just marry any stripper, even if it’s only for a year. Gotta make sure she’s super hot.”
I roll my eyes. “The clubs you frequent, they’re all pretty damn hot. And again, it’s only for a year. So why bother?”
He squints at me. “You’re making me worried. Did something happen with you and Paige?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Scotch, then?”
“Yeah.”
He grabs a couple of bottles and a pair of tumblers. Unlike our eminently appropriate and genteel sister, Elliot doesn’t care what time it is when he feels like drinking. Sun’s over the yardarm somewhere, and all that.
“I thought…” He scowls and starts over. “You know, Paige likes you.”
I take a swig. The burn feels oh so good. “She likes my money. And whatever she gets because of the prenup.”
“What is she getting out of the prenup?”
“More money.”
“But that’s okay, right? I mean, you wrote the prenup.”
My tone grows testy. “Of course I wrote the prenup. I hired the lawyer.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that she wants to end it after a year.”
Elliot stares at me like I’ve just spoken to him in Mongolian. “Have you been snorting something?” he finally asks. “You’re not making any sense. She is doing exactly what you want her to do. You should be thrilled. Hell, you should be cartwheeling across the city that she isn’t being clingy. Any other woman would’ve been clutching at your pants and crying, ‘No, Ryder, no! I’ll do anything! Don’t leave me!’” he says in a falsetto.
My teeth grind together. Maybe it was a bad idea to come here. “I don’t want to end our marriage after one year.”
Elliot takes another scotch. “You want to change the duration? You know you can’t end it soon—”
“No! I don’t want to end it! Period.”
Elliot chokes on his drink. Some of it comes back up, and he covers his nose. “Shit! Ah, that’s nasty.” He grimaces at the wet spots on his shirt, then pulls it off completely. It ends up in a heap on the floor. “Does this mean what I think it means?” He takes in my expression and leans back, his mouth parted in wonder. “Son of a bitch. You’re in love with her.”
“What about it?” My voice is belligerent.
He shakes his head slowly. “Oh. My. God. Who would’ve thought? You were complaining about how marrying her is the cliché of all clichés. What was it you said? ‘Not even Hollywood would make a movie that terrible’?”
I grind my teeth so hard my jaw aches.
“I just think it’s funny. You know, in a holy shit kind of way. Of all people, you are the last one I thought would fall in love. Your mom’s side of the family isn’t exactly known for warm, touchy-feely stuff.”
They aren’t, although things seem to be changing there. Even my sociopath cousin Dane is hooking up with somebody. So who knows? Maybe it’s my turn.
But I’m sure if Fate is real, the bitch is laughing at my expense.
Elliot sniffs. “Look, I know the love business bothers you. But if you don’t want her to leave you, why don’t you just tell her you’re in love with her? I’m sure she’ll cry with joy and promise to be with you till death do you part. All that good st—”
“I already told her.” A painful sense of loss and humiliation burns through me. “She was horrified.”
Elliot’s eyes bug out. “Seriously? You sure you didn’t misread her emotions? I mean, you must’ve been nervous. Probably just didn’t catch the, I don’t know, subtle nuance of her expression or something.”
“I was not nervous, you jackass. I’m never nervous around women. And I know how to read Paige. Trust me. She was absolutely, utterly horrified.”
“Wow.” Elliot raises his eyebrows and gazes pensively down into his whiskey. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Then, “Sorry, man. That’s just…awful.”
It’s worse than awful. I can’t decide what hurts most. That she doesn’t love me back, or that she never considered me someone she could depend on. Why can’t she see that I want to provide and care for her?
“You still want to go ahead and marry her?”
“Yes. And in any case, I can’t call it off now without humiliating her.” I laugh bitterly. The media would bring up the fact that she starred in a sex tape, and the vultures would come out again. “But what’s the point? I can’t have her for a year and then lose her to someone else out there she wants more.” I don’t know how I ever thought I could let her go after one year. Was it because I didn’t know I was in love with her?
I wish I could go back in time and somehow make sure I never realized what’s in my heart. Then it would hurt less. Ignorance was indeed bliss.
“I’m sorry.” Elliot brings out a third bottle of scotch. “Two won’t be enough.”
I nod and knock back another mouthful of fiery drink. But no matter how much alcohol I consume, I can’t push Paige’s horrified expression out of my mind.
This is probably why men never say, “I love you” to women first. Rejection and humiliation I can deal with. I suffered through plenty of both when I was young and starting out in Hollywood. But the idea that she will never be mine…that someday she’ll leave me and find somebody else…cuts me wide open.
If it didn’t affect Paige, I would rather call off the wedding than have her for a year only to lose her. If I get used to life with her—as my wife—there’s no way I’m going to survive the divorce…and life without her.
* * *
Paige
Ryder doesn’t come home. I try calling, but he’s not answering. Elizabeth tries as well, but she only gets his voicemail.
“This isn’t like him. Wonder where he is.” She puts down her phone.
“No idea. He didn’t tell me anything.” I already checked his calendar. He doesn’t have any appointments this afternoon. A moment later, my phone buzzes and I jump for it. Maybe it’s Ryder calling me back.
I need to tell him I love him too, and that I never told him because I was afraid. I need to tell him that I was stunned by his declaration and that he is definitely wrong about where I was coming from and that I want him back home.
Mira’s name flashes on the screen, and I deflate faster than a spiked tire. “This is Paige.”
“Is Ryder there? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him for over an hour.”
I hesitate, debating if I should confront her about her role in funding Bethany’s company. A part of me wants to hash it out right now, but rationality prevails. It isn’t the kind of topic I can talk about over the phone, especially when I’m emotional and unprepare
d. Mira is too sneaky and slick. “No. He left this morning and hasn’t been back.”
“He said he wanted me to swing by. Apparently he has something important to discuss.”
“When did he contact you?” Ryder was so angry earlier. Maybe he wants to talk to her about the threats she’s posing against my best friend and stepsister.
“A few days ago. I was out of town, but I’m now back.”
Okay. So whatever he wanted to talk to her about can’t be the blackmail stuff. “Well, I don’t know what it’s about. But I’ll let him know you called when I see him.”
“Great. Thanks.” She hangs up.
“More people looking for him?” Elizabeth asks.
“Yeah.”
“Where could he have gone?”
It’s a rhetorical question. “Excuse me. I have to get some work done.”
I go upstairs to my office. I need to make two lists. One is everything I want to tell Ryder regarding his declaration. The second is all the things I’m going to tell Mira to get her to leave me and my friends and family alone.
I’m going to fix this.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ryder
Something buzzes, the sound like a large and particularly obnoxious bee.
It continues. Probably something important.
I look over at Elliot. “Visitor,” he mumbles.
We’ve killed two bottles of scotch. The third one is about a quarter empty. Alcohol smolders pleasantly in my veins, and I don’t ever want to leave Elliot’s couch.
“You tell anybody you were coming over?”
“No.” I glance at him. “Probably someone delivering another inflatable doll.”
Elliot gives me the finger. “It’s not a delivery guy. They just dump the packages at the concierge desk and run.” He groans and levers himself up. “All right, all right.” He mutters a few choice words, then buzzes the person in.
“Who is it?”
“Your agent.”
A mix of ugly emotions rears its head. I glare at the door as Mira walks in. She’s in her usual black dress and shiny black patent shoes, and she looks as slick as spilled oil. Her red lipsticked mouth purses. “Good god. What the hell is this?”
“I’ll leave you two alone to talk business,” Elliot says with a loopy grin. “Call if you need anything. I have plenty more scotch…some vodka too.” He wags his fingers and goes into his bedroom.
She crosses her arms and stands hipshot, looking down at me. “You asked to talk to me as soon as I was back in town, and now you ignore my calls because you’re too busy drinking. Not even Paige knows where you are—or maybe she just said that because she didn’t want to tell me the truth.”
The mention of Paige triggers something inside me. It’s as though Mira’s hit a detonation switch. “Don’t talk about my fiancée,” I grind out.
“Oh for god’s sake.” She throws her hands up. “What the hell has she done now?”
“You are my agent, not my mother. You should’ve stayed the fuck out of Bethany’s business. And you should’ve never threatened Renni!” My voice rises. “She’s your client!”
Mira’s lips curl in distaste. “A client I took on so Paige would do the right thing and marry you for a year. I wouldn’t have accepted her otherwise. She’s pretty enough and has some talent, but she isn’t that special. She won’t amount to anything.”
“You don’t know that. Have you even tried to get her any roles?”
“No. Because it’s all going to end in a year. So who cares?” Mira frowns. “Is this why you wanted to see me? To check on how much I’m doing for her?”
I start to shake my head, but it hurts. Shit. If I’d known I’d be confronting my agent, I wouldn’t have drunk so much. “Did you tell the DA that I was going to let it go when I made it clear I wanted that nurse prosecuted?”
“Yes, and it’s for your own good. If we go after her, people are going to start talking about why you were at the hospital—and the fact that Paige released her sex tape right around that time would never die its natural death. Do you really want that attached to your name for years?” She stalks over to the kitchen and gets a glass of water. “Here. Drink this and sober up.”
I take the glass. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
“What?”
“Cleaned up after me to manage my image.”
“It’s part of my job. Talent has to be managed. Nurtured…cultivated. Nobody becomes a star without careful planning. And you’re golden, Ryder. You’re young, handsome, rich and from a good family. You’re wild and bad, but you also do good things like those charities you sponsor. Problem is, young men with looks and fame tend to do stupid things, especially where women are involved.”
I stare at her. Memories of how Mira and Lauren used to whisper between themselves flood through my mind. “Like Lauren,” I say.
Mira looks away, but not before I catch the slight shift in her expression.
“I remember you two used to talk to each other all the time.”
“Lauren.” She shakes her head. “She wanted me to be her agent. Even though I told her it wasn’t a good idea. My loyalty was—is—to you. And I wasn’t going to ruin my reputation by shilling her to casting directors just because she was sleeping with you.”
“But there was more, wasn’t there? She went to every party you were invited to.” Even through the alcohol, I’m not completely stupid. “What did you promise her?”
Mira shrugs. “I told her I’d introduce her to some people. And I did. Half the trick is networking.”
“You mean like coke-snorting stars and wannabes?”
“I had no idea she was using. And if she was, it has nothing to do with me. I’d never condone anything like that.”
Right. And I was born yesterday. “You made sure Lauren would go down a destructive path. It wouldn’t be that difficult if you put your mind to it. People who are desperate to be discovered will do anything, follow any fucked up piece of advice, if they believe it’ll give them an edge. And you were a big name agent even then.”
“You’re out of line, Ryder. I never held her down and pushed powder up her nose.”
“No. You just made sure she met the wrong crowd.” Pain sears through me. “But Paige can’t be manipulated that way. So you chose a different method this time.”
“Oh for god’s sake. What does it matter?”
“It matters because the wedding’s off.”
Mira stares at me. “What?”
“I’m going to make an announcement.”
“Seriously?” She curses. “Okay, let me see the statement before you say anything. We have to make sure you’re ditching her. The tape gives us the perfect excuse.”
“No, it doesn’t. She called it off because I’m not someone she can see a long-term future with.”
A breath hisses out of her. “She wouldn’t dare.”
“Why not? Are you going to pull the funding from her stepsister’s company? Make sure to release another psycho from prison, so they can run one of her family or friends over? How about Renni? You going to make sure she pays, too?”
“None of that will happen if Paige behaves. It’s only a year, Ryder.”
“Why do you have something named The Reed Trust?”
“I don’t know what you’re talk—.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!”
She sighs. “All right. Yes. I have a trust for each major client. It makes it easier for me to keep track of what I’m doing for them. But I’ve never used it for anything that could come back and reflect poorly on you.”
“You’re such a piece of work. If I’d known what a barracuda you are, I would’ve never signed with you.” I take a take a deep breath, but the vise around my chest still tightens. “You have no respect for me or my personal life.”
“You have no personal life!” She slaps her hands together in irritation. “You are a fucking superstar!”
I sit back. Of course. That�
��s what all this is about—Mira wanting to ensure that I’m one hundred percent hers. Not in a romantic sense. She’s not minded that way, plus romance requires one to have a heart. But she can ensure I’m always alone, or surrounded only by people she approves of, so that I’ll always be on a path that leads me back to her.
My voice is quiet when I tell her, “Then I’ll stop being a fucking superstar.”
She snorts. “Don’t be an idiot. You can’t do that.”
“Sure I can. I don’t have to work to get by. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with.” I bare my teeth. “Oh, and Mira? You’re fired.”
Her chest shudders, and she purses her lips so tight, countless small lines form around them. “You’re drunk. Drink that water, go sober up, and when you’re thinking right again we’re going to pretend this talk never happened.” She turns and heads toward the door.
“No, we aren’t.” I look at the only agent I’ve ever had with anger and regret. Anger wins. “If you come near me, Paige or anybody either of us cares about ever again, I’m going to slap you with a restraining order so fast it’ll take your breath away. And then I’ll have fun watching you try to spin that to protect your image.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ryder
I sober up, and for the next four days stay at Elliot’s. I can’t go home. Knowing that Mira is behind Lauren’s drug use and Paige’s stepsister almost losing her baby… Fuck. I can’t forgive myself for not seeing it sooner.
I should’ve known. Mira has always been overly hands-on, sticking her nose into every aspect of my life. I chalked it up to her being really vested in my career. And I had no reason to think badly of her; after all, she was instrumental in my success. But when she burrowed deeper into my life instead of backing off, I should’ve at least suspected there was something unhealthy in her focus on me.
My lawyers are working to terminate our contract. I can’t even bear to talk to her. She’s been trying to contact me, but by blocking her calls I’m making my position clear. The attorneys are also untangling the mess Mira’s interference has created in Bethany’s life. Given their hourly rate, they should be able to purge Mira from our lives completely. I won’t accept anything less.