“You should. It’s ugly for Paige, and unlike you, I bet she doesn’t have people taking care of that for her.”
I curse under my breath. None of this would’ve been an issue if Paige had let my team handle her publicity, including taking over her social media. The thing is, I’m pretty certain she didn’t release the tape either. But it’s impossible to talk to her rationally when she gives me ultimatums or sits there cooing over Anthony’s flowers. And she knows how those actions will push my buttons. She’s been with me too long not to.
I have another scotch.
“You should eat,” Elizabeth says, eyeing my untouched food. “I know you skipped dinner last night.”
“Keeping track of me, Mother?”
Two beats of silence. “Ass.”
The single word, muttered under her breath, stops me. “Excuse me?”
“What?” Her voice is tart.
“You said ‘ass.’”
“So?”
“You cursing is like, is like…” I can’t even think of a good comparison. “Like Mother Theresa making porn,” I say at last.
“Well, what’s a girl to do when her brother’s being a bone-head?”
“Fine. I’ll eat.”
I manage to shovel a few forkfuls down my throat and begin to feel slightly better. Eventually I finish every bite. I have to admit, it makes a difference.
But as soon as I finish I get up and leave, not bothering to wait for dessert. I don’t want to sit there and bear the waves of disapproval pouring out of Elizabeth.
Once I’m in my office, I lie down on the barcalounger and call my agent. She bitched about the surprise engagement, so she can hear about how things are going. Besides, she’s a good problem solver, and unlike Elizabeth, she doesn’t talk about how I’m like Shirley…possibly because she never met Grandma.
“You didn’t tell me Paige was pregnant,” Mira says.
“We wanted to announce it after the wedding.”
“Hmmm… Well, too late now.” She waits a beat. “Is the baby okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” Or so Paige said.
“I heard you had an altercation at the hospital.”
I make a face, remembering the crazy nurse. “Yeah. Some psycho fan. At least she didn’t come after me with a Jeep.”
“Hospitals have lots of sharp objects. I should have our attorney contact them. It’s unacceptable.”
“Handle it without making a big deal about it.”
“Will do.”
“And Mira?”
“Yes?”
“Paige moved out. Thought you should know now rather than find out because some idiot posted something about it somewhere.”
“What?”
“We’re taking a break. That’s how we should spin it. Or maybe she wants to spend some time with her friends or something.”
“Why did she move out?”
“It’s complicated.” I’m not telling Mira about the whole ugly mess. It’s private, and none of her business.
“She can’t do this. I don’t care how complicated it is.”
“You won’t interfere,” I growl. “I’m going to handle it.”
“How?” Mira growls louder, like we’re in some ursine competition. “If I’d known she was going to be this unreliable, I would’ve never suggested that you marry her, even for a year. God. How could I have misjudged her?”
For some reason, her irate tone and words annoy me. “You didn’t misjudge Paige. The spotlight was probably too much for her.”
“Ha! Do fish complain about too much water?”
My jaw flexes. Mira isn’t saying anything I haven’t thought, but it still pisses me off to hear the words out loud. I didn’t call her to listen to her go off on Paige. I need to get her back because the wedding is going to happen no matter what. She told me to find somebody more to my liking, but she doesn’t understand why I have to marry ASAP.
Technically, Dad gave all of us six months to find somebody and get hitched. I’m not worried about most of my siblings, but Lucas may be a problem. He made it clear he wasn’t interested, and unless all of us fulfill the conditions, none of us will get the portraits.
He needs to see that it’s no big deal to marry. It’s only for a year anyway. And I need to set the example since I’m the one least likely to settle down. Everyone knows my reputation and all the women I’ve “humped and dumped.”
“If she isn’t going to marry you, you should cut her off completely. No monthly allowance and no medical. That would serve her right,” Mira says. “And speaking of cutting, we need to do something about that idiot temp assistant you have. Every time I talk to him, I feel like I’m losing IQ points.”