A Hollywood Bride(13)

But she didn’t. Is someone in my position supposed to take everything people say at face value, especially when things go south? And the whole “sex tape being released on the night of our engagement party” drove everything so fucking south, it ran smack into Antarctica.

Elliot pours me some scotch. “Well… If you want to back out, now’s the time. Mira and Christopher can spin it so that you won’t come out of the whole thing looking like some kind of an asshole. I mean, people are going to understand why you wouldn’t want to marry a woman who was caught screwing someone else on video.”

I knock back the drink and scowl at the heat singeing my throat. It isn’t that simple, and he doesn’t get it. But then how could he? I don’t even know why I feel the way I do. It’s not the first time a woman has stabbed me in the back.

Lauren’s betrayal infuriated me as much as it gutted me. Even as I tried to deny all the signs and evidence, my brain working overtime to come up with one implausible explanation after another for her behavior, my heart told me I was deluding myself. But with Paige, it’s different. I want to ignore the evidence and just accept her explanation that she’s a victim and that she honestly has zero interest in fame. Certainly she’s never indicated that she wanted to be in the business when she was working for me as my assistant. But Mira’s also right: people can change. Lauren didn’t do drugs when we first met either.

“I’m sorry I recommended Paige,” Elliot says, rubbing his forehead. “I honestly thought she would be good for you. Maybe you should follow your instincts and do it with some new model or actress whose agenda is clear. That way nothing they do can surprise you.”

I raise a hand to block his apology. “Not your fault. I’m the one who made the final decision.”

I take a long swallow of the scotch. My feelings are all jumbled. I feel like someone who was lost at sea and got tantalizingly close to reaching land, only to be carried away by the tides. But when I think about my grandfather’s portrait, I’m just…numb. And empty.

What is Paige going to do when she’s free of me? Ending our engagement won’t change the fact that she’s pregnant. And of course she’ll want the child taken care of. And that will require money…

Something’s been niggling at my mind, and it won’t go away. I try to relax, let the thought come…

The jacket. The one Paige was wearing knotted around her waist to cover up the blood-stain on her skirt.

It was a man’s jacket.

I pull out my phone and call the house. The housekeeper answers.

“Sue, there’s a man’s jacket in Paige’s laundry. Black, and too large for her. Can you check and tell me if the buttons have any particular letter or anything on them?”

“Hold on a sec.” A few minutes pass by, then she returns to the line. “Okay, I’m looking at it. Yes. They all have this big capital ‘R’.”

“Done like calligraphy, with the tail of the R in a kind of curlicue?”

“Uh huh. Like something out of a bible.”

I thank her and hang up.

Dad.

He doesn’t wear anything that cheap, but his chauffeur Perry does. Dad likes to have Rs on the staff uniforms. It makes him feel special, like he’s some kind of fucking royalty.

Paige avoided talking about who gave her a ride from the hospital. If it was no big deal, she would’ve told me. But she knows how things are between me and my father.

It is absolutely conceivable that Dad told her to do this. It’s not like he’s unable to offer her money. For I know, she could’ve released the sex tape herself because that’s what Dad wanted in return for some astounding sum.

Damn. This is so fucked up.

Even though Paige downplayed the money stuff in Samantha’s office, she could have had second thoughts. Or just gotten greedy. Buyers’ remorse is more common than people think. Just because they don’t tell you that they changed their mind out of fear of looking unreliable doesn’t mean they aren’t going to let their greed guide them.

I find that I’m breathing through my mouth. The scotch sits like acid in my belly, and my gut twists. Less than forty hours ago, I felt like the king of the world. I had a proper fiancée by my side, and my grandfather’s portrait was soon to be mine. Now everything feels ashen and dull.

Elliot gives me more scotch, then helps himself to some as well. “If you’re going to marry Paige in spite of everything, you two should present a united front. Unless you want to have people talking about your marriage forever.”

I grimace. He’s right, but I don’t want to discuss this crap anymore. “Bring the girls back in. I know you’re shopping for a bride.”