A Hollywood Deal(38)

“Yeah…it’s a long story.” I’m not sure how much to say. I trust Renni, but no one can know about the arrangement being fake. It isn’t my secret to keep. “But I’ve been working for him for a while, and you know… Ending things with Shaun just freed me so I could move on and give in to what’s been building up between us for a while.”

“Holy cow! And you never said a word.”

“Because.” I clear my throat. I suck at lying, so half-truths are best. “I didn’t want to sound like one of those delusional women who think they have a chance with Ryder. Do you know how many crazy mails I get from people like that? Even a whiff of anything, and the press would be all over it. You know how it is with a star like him.”

“Right. Right.” Renni sighs. “Oh my god, it’s so romantic! Just like in a fairy tale. We have to meet to celebrate our good news. And Gary and I want all the scoop.”

“Okay.” I want to ask whether Pyotr’s been behaving since I saw him kissing another man in the car, but I don’t. If everything goes well with Mira, Renni won’t need to fake it with him anymore, and his indiscretion won’t be her problem.

I push all the fake stuff out of my mind. We should be celebrating her good fortune really. Renni is a great actress with an incredible work ethic. Mira can do wonders for her career, and I’m confident that the agent will keep her end of the deal.

“All right, I have to calm down and get some sleep,” Renni says.

“Good luck. You sound like you just mainlined a silo of coffee,” I tease.

“I know! But I have to! Otherwise I’ll be no good tomorrow when I see Mira.”

“Just need to be yourself. That should be enough to impress the hell out of any agent.”

Renni laughs. “Thanks, Mom.”

I hang up and toss myself on the bed. At least Renni’s finally getting what she deserves. I stare at the ceiling. I’m okay where I am. I put a hand over my belly. My baby’s going to be taken care of. That’s what matters.

Still, an odd pang reverberates through my heart, and I feel like a shitty friend and human being for not being happier.





Chapter Sixteen



Paige

Something beeps in the dark bedroom. I scowl. It’s barely six. I know this because my alarm goes off at six ten—so I can have that extra ten minutes of sleep.

I grope for my phone and finally grab the offending electronics. “Hello?” I mumble.

“Good lord, Paige, is it true?”

It’s Mom’s voice, and I rub my face. “Wha—?”

“You’re dating Ryder Reed?”

Sleep evaporates. I blink. “Oh. Uh…”

“We saw the photos.” It’s Simon now. They must be on speaker. “Actually Mrs. Glenn called.”

The busybody of Sweet Hope. Sixty-four years old, and has nothing better to do since her retired husband’s too busy ignoring her.

I pull the covers over my head. Ugh. I thought I’d have at least the full morning to figure out a good way to tell Mom and Simon before the news hit.

“You’re a smart girl, so I’m sure you know what you’re doing. But Paige… That man seems to sleep with anything that breathes,” Mom says.

“I don’t think it has to breathe,” Simon adds. “Just warm. Reasonably shaved. Claims to be female—”

I pinch the skin between my eyes. This is not the kind of conversation I can have without coffee.

“Just what are his intentions?” Simon demands.

My alarm goes off just then, and I kill it. “Hold on.”

I swing my legs off the side of the bed and stump down to the kitchen on the first floor, my brain only half-functioning.

The kitchen’s already lit, and the chef, Jean Marco waves a paring knife at me.

I waggle my fingers. The ring catches the light and sparkles. It’s too beautiful, too special for what Ryder and I are doing. Even as a part of me fawns over it, a bigger part feels like a fraud.

“Need something?” Jean mouths.

“Coffee,” I mouth back, then shake my head. Ugh. I can’t drink coffee anymore. “Tea.”

She arches an eyebrow, but puts some water on to boil.

Mom and Simon are still talking, and I draw in a lungful of air. Coffee would’ve been better, but…

“Okay. Guys. Guys?” They finally shut up. “We’re engaged,” I say, staring as Jean dumps loose leaves into a bag.

“You’re what?” Simon’s voice booms, and I wince, pulling the phone away from my ear.

“Engaged. As in we’re going to get married.”

“Since when?” Mom asks.

“Yesterday.”