Reading Online Novel

A Hollywood Bride(59)



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?