A Hollywood Deal(67)

I pull my hair back into a ponytail and put on a pair of comfy, loose gray pants and a pink tank top. They are two items of a few meager “lazing around the house” outfits Josephine deemed acceptable. If she had it her way, I’d wear nothing but designer dresses all the time.

The door to Ryder’s office is open. He’s inside, reading a script submission, which he always does himself. Thankfully Mira doesn’t send him a lot since he is hyper-selective about his roles. It also helps that he’s a very fast reader. I honestly thought it was some kind of practical joke when I first saw him flipping through one.

He’s reclining in a Barcalounger and…there’s a couple fingers of scotch in a glass by his chair. Huh. I’ve never seen him drink this early. A white shirt strains against his heavily muscled torso, his shoulders impossibly broad and powerful. He flexes his feet as he reads. I can’t believe he’s mine for a little over a year.

Not really yours. Just in name. And…something.

It’s that something that bothers me.

There is a wall between us that I discovered last night. I can only get so close before Ryder will shut me out. At the same time, we do everything like a real couple. We share a house, eat late-night snacks together, have incredible sex. Our relationship is more marriage-like than a lot of couples who are married for real.

And the contradiction is driving me insane.

Or maybe I’m just becoming greedier. I told myself I’d be satisfied with our arrangement so long as my child was free of Shaun and his negative influence. Plus Ryder is going to set it up for life.

But somehow I hunger for more. Maybe it’s the speech Ryder made last night… I wish it were a genuine sentiment, not some line he said to play a role.

“Morning,” he says, giving me the brilliant smile that has every woman in the world melting at his feet.

“Morning.”

“Just so you’re prepared…” He lets the sentence hang dramatically.

“Yes?”

“…Mom didn’t go back to her house.”

Ah. Thus the early drink.

He tosses the script aside. “She supposedly didn’t even make it to her car. Not in any condition to drive, don’t you know.”

“Doesn’t she have a driver?”

“Yeah, but apparently he went home early—during the dinner—because of some emergency.”

His tone says he’s too smart to buy that. I don’t blame him.

Geraldine is not the type to let other people inconvenience her. The driver would have to have a stroke in order for her to let him go before she was done with the day’s schedule.

He sighs. “Thought I should warn you.”

“Warn her about what?”

I almost jump at the cheery voice. Geraldine comes in, thick curls cascading down her back and shoulders. I’ve never seen her with her hair loose, but she looks much younger this way.

And she isn’t in the same outfit, but the new blue dress is just as expensive and elegant as yesterday’s. A string of pearls wraps around her slender throat, and her makeup is perfect.

Well, I think. It’s almost like she brought all her things with her.

“What do you want, Mom?” Ryder says.

Geraldine gives me a long-suffering look. “My son. Always the epitome of politeness.” She sighs theatrically. “What I want, Ryder, is to say goodbye. My driver’s going to be here in a few minutes.”

His smile is surprised…and genuine. “Oh. Well, okay… Great.”

“Could I just borrow Paige for a moment before I go?”

“Sure, Ms. Pryce,” I respond in reflex. Old habits die hard, and sure enough, she cocks an eyebrow.

I manage a chagrined expression. “Mother.” One word I never thought would be awkward to speak out loud, but oh lord it is.

“Splendid.” She holds out her hand, and I have no choice but to take it.

Geraldine’s palm is soft, the bones underneath delicate. She probably never had to do any sort of labor while growing up, and if she ever broke a sweat, it was due to her own choice, not necessity.

She wraps an arm around my waist and we make our way down the stairs to the foyer. She tilts her head in my direction. We must make a pretty picture—the bride-to-be and her future mother-in-law spending quality time together.

“I’m so glad you’ve upgraded your wardrobe, my dear. Being my son’s wife will entail maintaining a certain image.”

“Josephine Martinez picked some things out for me.”

“She has good taste. Perhaps she could help your family out as well? We can’t have them showing up in, well…clearance rack clothes. It would be embarrassing for them, and for you, too. And how would it reflect on Ryder?”