A Hollywood Bride (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 2) (13 page)

“Well, why don’t you get some? You know, take that edge off. So we can actually have a productive discussion?”

Paige is on her feet immediately. “I’ll get it for y—”

“You sit back down,” I say. Her eyes and nose are still red—well, more like pink now—and I don’t want the kitchen staff to see her like this. Besides, I don’t know if it’s good for her to be on her feet too much anyway. “I’ll get it.”

She sits, and I push her chair at the desk. “And relax. That’s an order.”

* * *

Paige

Ryder goes for the coffee, leaving Mira and me alone in the room. “Nice to have you back,” she says.

Her dark hair, cut Cleopatra style, is exceptionally glossy under the light, and she’s wearing a black dress with a patent leather belt cinched tight around her waist. Her stilettos look long and sharp enough to kill a crocodile, with golden edging at the tips of the heels. The red lipstick is stark against her milky skin.

“Thanks,” I say. It seems kind of inadequate after the display she just saw. But she and I aren’t close enough to chit-chat about that kind of personal stuff.

“So I take it the wedding’s on?”

“If he can give me the answer I asked for, yes.”

Her dark brows pinch together into a sharp V. She takes a seat in front of my desk. “What answer?”

“It’s…kind of personal.”

“Okay. But this ‘answer’ determines whether or not you’re going to show up for your wedding?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No.”

She gives me a very, very penetrating look. “Is this some kind of test?”

“Not at all.”

“Then why the hell were you kissing him like you want him for brunch? You playing a game?”

“Not a game. Something very important to me.”

She levels an absolutely flat stare at me. “More important than your precious friend Renni?”

“What?”

“Let me spell it out for you. Not marrying Ryder would involve consequences for her.”

My chest tightens. “Are you threatening to fire her?”

“Oh, sure. I could do that, but so what? She wouldn’t be any worse off than before I took her on.”

Not even close to true. Everyone would know Renni was let go because Mira didn’t believe she had what it took to become a star. It would be incredibly damaging to my friend.

The agent studies her manicure. “I have something better. I know her boyfriend isn’t all that into her.”

I lean forward. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, Paige. He’s gay. Gay men don’t dig their
girl
friends.”

Damn it. How did she find out? “Who told you something that ridiculous?” I ask, doing my best to stay calm and collected.

“It’s called research. I make it a priority to look into my clients to make sure there aren’t any surprises that can derail my efforts. She’s ‘dating’ darling Pyotr for money so he can trick his grandfather into believing he’s heterosexual.” Mira tsks. “I heard that the old man really hates gay guys.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Is it? I think you know better.” She crosses her legs, the motion indolent. “I don’t want to hurt Renni anymore than you do, I’m sure. I’m hoping to make her a star and make some money off her. But Ryder is my priority, and I won’t hesitate to do whatever I have to make sure
you
don’t do anything that can damage his image or reputation. You’ve already done enough with that sex tape and the scene in front of Jones & Jones.”

Her blatant victim-blaming pisses me off, especially after what I put up with this morning. My voice comes out louder and sharper than normal. “I didn’t release the damn tape! And I certainly didn’t ask to be attacked!”

Mira almost yawns. “My dear, it doesn’t matter what you did. What matters is how it affects Ryder. Besides, you can’t deny that you left him. Breaking off the wedding at this point would be damaging. Very difficult to spin. You’re supposed to be acting grateful to be his bride.”

I’m shaking so hard, I can’t speak. There are so many things I want to say, but none of them are appropriate.

“Don’t think I won’t use what I have on your friend to keep you in line. It’s not the first time I’ve had to protect Ryder from some woman who didn’t know her place.” She stands up. “Now, in case you weren’t aware, he and I have an appointment to talk about his next project. So I’m going to walk out of here, and you’re going to toe the line. Have a productive day, Paige.”

Paige

Mira might’ve left, but the after-effects of her threat haven’t. My hands are shaking.

But I get up, pace a bit and take a few breaths. Try to put the unpleasantness behind me. There’s work to do. Having Ryder’s ring on my finger doesn’t mean I get to slack off, even if he did tell me to “relax.”

There are piles and piles of things to go through, and the temp assistant didn’t organize any of it with any discernible logic.
Okay
, I think, surveying the carnage,
electronic stuff first
. I answer all the emails that have been read but are languishing in the inbox, then forward all the invoices to Ryder’s accountant for review and payment. Next, I go back and reconcile all the weekly financial reports from said accountant with my own records to make sure everything matches up. It’s one of the things I’m supposed to do, and it helps us check everyone’s work to make sure that all invoices are paid on time, and there are no unusual items. Of course, since the temp assistant didn’t do any of the reconciliation, I spend most of that time working on past reports.

A couple of hours later, Ryder stops by my office. I hear the clacking of Mira’s heels receding down the hall.

He’s still in a white button-down shirt and khaki shorts, and hasn’t bothered with shoes. A day’s worth of beard covers his jaw. The look is singularly disconcerting. I’ve seen him unshaven before, but never when it was okay to touch, and right now he looks eminently touchable. I’m also certain he won’t object if I finish what we started earlier. I hide my hands underneath the desk and curl my fingers.

“You all right?” he asks.

“Fine.” I smile for his benefit, although I’m not okay. Not really.

He shifts his weight. “That’s a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah. The temp kind of got behind.”

A snort. “Did he do anything?”

“Something, I would imagine.”

Ryder shakes his head. “Worthless. No wonder Mira was bitching about him.”

Tension returns to my shoulders and neck. I feel the muscles there knotting up, but make a conscious effort to relax.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing.” Her threats are about me, and I don’t want to involve him. Mira is his agent, and she’s been with him longer than me. I don’t want to cause any friction between the two of them.

He shakes his head. “You remember that question you asked me yesterday?”

The sudden change of topic disconcerts me for a moment. “What about it?”

“Do you think ‘nothing’ is the answer you would’ve given your fiancé?”

I lean back in my seat. He has a point, but I don’t want to blur personal and professional. I look back at him, my mouth stubbornly closed.

“Okay.” He nods as though he’s reading my thoughts. “If you really considered me your fiancé, would you have said the same thing?”

“Ryder…” I link my hands together and rest them on my lap. “I’d never say a word about it to anyone, fiancé or not. It’s just not my style. I’ve never talked about work issues to people outside the office, ever.”

“Right. So. Let’s try this again.” He takes a seat across from me. It’s the same chair Mira took when she threatened me in that gratingly languid tone. His ankle rests on his knee. “I’m also your boss. That means ‘inside the office,’ right? So now, tell me what’s wrong.”

I have to laugh. “If I ran to you every time there was a problem, you would’ve fired me a long time ago.”

His eyes narrow. “So you aren’t going to tell me at all?”

“No.”

All he can do is instruct Mira to back off. And the thing is, I can sort of understand why she felt the need to show her claws. She wants to make sure I don’t do anything to screw up all the hard work she’s put in on Ryder. Hollywood isn’t just about a pretty face and a hard body. There’s an image to maintain. Ryder’s done his best to be a sexy playboy, and it’s Mira who’s made sure he gets publicity for things other than wild parties—all the charities he sponsors and the crazy amount of money he donates to his sister’s foundations. He’s probably fed half the continent of Africa by now.

“Ryder, look. I can’t ask you to interfere on my behalf every time I have an issue. That wouldn’t be right. Also, I’m here as your assistant, not your fiancée. We should keep our personal and professional boundaries, you know…intact.”

“But you’ll ask me for help if you can’t take care of something yourself, right?”

I’ve never asked him for a favor on behalf of a friend, and I don’t think I can now, despite the situation. Still, I don’t want to upset him. So I give him the answer he wants. “Sure.”

He studies my face for a long moment. “Okay.” He gets up. “Got it.”

* * *

Ryder

Paige is a terrible liar. She wouldn’t ask me for help if she were hiking through the Sahara with a thimbleful of water.

I thought the connection we shared in the morning meant something, but I see that it only meant something to me. It doesn’t to her…not the way I want it to.

I walk back to my office. The wet bar has a fresh bottle of scotch, compliments of some new distillery. Never tried their stuff before, but I won’t turn down a chance to maybe discover a new favorite.

After pouring a generous amount into a tumbler, I plop down on my usual barcalounger. I went over to see about taking her out for lunch. Yeah yeah, the media is awful, but I can get a private room at one of my cousin’s restaurants without a reservation. And a change of scenery might cheer her up.

But instead, I’m more convinced than ever that unless I figure out what Paige meant by how I trust her as my assistant but not as my fiancée, our wedding may just be called off.

Seriously though, no matter how long and hard I think about it, I feel like she’s overreacting. I don’t think I’ve treated her differently because her status has changed. As a matter of fact, I treated her with more respect and consideration as my fiancée. And I loved her body like I’ve never loved anything before. My cock hardens every time I think about the way she tastes…or that keening sound she makes in the back of her throat when she’s close to orgasm…

Shifting, I lean back and stare at the near-empty canvas that is
Beautiful Emptiness
. What few lines it has are fluid and beautiful. Mira thought I was insane to pay so much for the painting. Ditto for my business manager, Brian Miller.

Of course they share that opinion because they don’t appreciate art. They only see it as an asset: buy it low and sell it high.

My mind wanders, and I start to see shapes in the blank spaces between the lines.

Lace. Smiles. That shy look in her eyes as she lowers her eyelashes. Her belly grows. Masculine and feminine hands link together. Hips bump into each other, and there’s passion, but there’s also more.

A genuine emotion that I can’t identify.

For it to be called love, it’s too damn happy and stable, like it’s something that can last. In my experience, love is complicated and doesn’t last. Not to mention, it comes with more terms and conditions than a mini-series contract. Break any of them, and you’re screwed. There are no re-takes.

But I want what I see in the blankness. And a part of me is furious because I was so close to having it with Paige until the sex tape incident.

I could’ve had it all.

Now I don’t know if I’ll ever have it again, and the thought shreds my soul like a raptor’s claw.

Paige

Ryder doesn’t join me and Elizabeth for lunch. I wonder what’s going on; it isn’t like him to skip a meal. Elizabeth merely shrugs. “He’s probably googling his name and admiring himself. The news about him paying for the animal shelters in North Carolina got out.”

I shake my head. “Poor Ryder. He wants so much to keep it quiet, but not a lot of his philanthropic work stays secret, even when he tries to do it anonymously.”

“Well, people are interested in what he does. Besides, I think somebody’s leaking it.”

I gasp. The notion never crossed my mind. “Who would do that?”

“Whoever wants Ryder to look good? For all I know, he may be doing it himself.”

“No way.” I frown. “That isn’t like him. He doesn’t like the spotlight.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows almost hit her hairline. “Are we talking about the same person? Ryder Pryce-Reed?”

“I mean the, you know, positive heartwarming kind of attention. He just wants to be seen as this wild, bad playboy.”

“Never going to happen. Not when he does stuff like this.” Elizabeth finishes the last bite of her sandwich. “It’s pretty smart actually. It creates a certain quality about him.”

“Like what?”

Elizabeth considers. “Hmmm. Let’s call it…an unobtainable perfection. A man who’s just waiting for the right woman, the one who’ll make him want to commit. I bet that’s one of the biggest reasons women go nuts over him. They can’t decide if he’s a bad boy or a redeemable sweetheart with a gooey center.”

I laugh. “You make him sound like one of those jelly-filled donuts.”

She gives me a mock-serious look. “Hey now. Anything jelly-filled is redeemable.”

The rest of the afternoon is filled with more work and getting caught up. Keeping myself busy has an advantage—it’s impossible to dwell on stuff I can’t do anything about.

Ryder does join us for dinner, and we decide to eat at the smaller, more intimate table in the sunroom. It’s like an atrium that is made entirely of glass and faces the garden. The chef sets a platter of thinly sliced roast beef wrapped around veggie sticks and alfalfa sprouts, then drizzles a special dressing all over it. There’s also a basket of freshly baked bread, various cheeses, and a pitcher of fresh fruit punch.

My mouth waters at the incredible smells, and we dig in.