One of them even uploaded a sex tape, which thankfully turned out to be of someone other than Ryder. But the incident required tons of extra work by not just me, but Mira and a team of publicists. Unlike me, she was mainly interested in capitalizing on the moment and twisting it into an opportunity to raise Ryder’s “hot factor”.
“When a woman has sex, she’s a slut. When a man has sex, he’s a stud.” Mira didn’t even look perturbed when she told me that. “It’s unfair, but that’s life. I’m not going to let this shit mess up all the good we’ve done for Ryder.”
It was so sexist, it still makes my teeth hurt.
And Ryder always comes out of everything smelling like roses.
Still, this job is what pays the bills, and I know he’s paying me a lot better than the going rate. Plus he covers all my medical and dental, and I’m going to need that more than ever.
“Don’t pout, babe,” Ryder says. “What’s done is done.”
“Is this why you asked me not to accompany you to the wedding?” I wouldn’t have attended the ceremony, but I would’ve gone to make sure every detail was taken care of to his satisfaction. Stuff like that is part of my job. “You said you’d be good.”
“I was. I went to the wedding like I promised and danced with the bride. Told everyone how awesome it was, how much I enjoyed myself. I even made a toast. Call Mark. Ask him.”
Mark is Ryder’s cousin and the groom.
My teeth were still grinding. “You missed the rehearsal dinner.”
“Hey, I apologized to Mark. And maybe to the bride, too.” He squints and snaps his fingers a couple of times. “Valerie? Mallory? Hilary! Anyway, I can’t remember, but she probably doesn’t care since she got to dance with me.” He waves a negligent hand at the bill on my desk. “That’s pocket change. Don’t worry about it. It’s all cool.”
“Yes, except for your mother who’s undoubtedly upset. I told her you’d be there, including the rehearsal dinner.”
“She seemed okay to me.”
“So you did talk to her?” That would be something, at least.
“Ah, I tried, but it was a big ceremony. Lots of guests. You know how those things can be.”
A tiny, bean-sized knot in my forehead starts to throb.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “She’ll pout for a week and then get over it. We can send her something nice for her birthday. Or Christmas. Whichever you like.”
His mother knows I pick out the gifts, not Ryder. She will be angry no matter what I send her. If it’s small and thoughtful, she’ll call it stingy. If it’s extravagant, she’ll accuse me of being presumptuous and wasteful, even though money is never an issue in Ryder’s family since everyone’s drowning in the stuff.
My cellphone rings. I glance at the ID—Geraldine Pryce.
Speak of the devil…
Normally I would let it go to voicemail, but I’m peeved, so I answer it before Ryder realizes who’s calling.
“Good morning, Ms. Pryce,” I say, my voice extra sweet and professional.
Ryder’s face crumples like a wadded piece of paper.
“Good morning, Paige.” Ryder’s mother’s voice is always cool with a hint of stickiness that isn’t easy to describe. Kind of like half-melted sugarless, fat-free ice cream.
Divorced, Geraldine Pryce refuses to be referred to as “missus.” She doesn’t want me calling her by her first name, either. I’ve never met the woman in person, but I’ve heard stories. She has to be the long lost sister of Miss Manners. If that’s too far-fetched, maybe a cousin, but nothing less.
“Is Ryder available in the next two weeks?”
“The next two weeks?” I purr. “Let me check.” I pull up his calendar.
Across from me, he is shaking his head and hands frantically. I pretend not to see him and keep scrolling through the schedule. He leans forward, mouths “no” and makes slashing motions right in front of my eyes.
I take pity on him. After all, he did give me a chance when nobody else would. Back then I was just a girl fresh out of college with no experience or connections in Hollywood.
“I’m sorry, but he’s unavailable,” I say. “Is this something urgent? If so, I can see what I can do.”
“Urgent? I suppose that depends on one’s point of view. I simply thought the family should have dinner, seeing as how he missed the one at his cousin’s wedding.” Geraldine’s tone says she’s too well-bred to make accusations, but she knows where the fault lies—me.
“If you can have your assistant figure out everyone’s schedule… Is Julian coming too?” I can call Ryder’s father Julian because Geraldine doesn’t think he’s worth the respect of “Mr. Reed,” and Julian doesn’t want me to be formal with him.