An Improper Ever After(71)

"Can't. It's Ava," Lucas says.

My jaw slackens, and I feel my mouth part. Belle looks at me blankly, but doesn't ask … for which I'm grateful, since I'm not sure how to explain Ava.

Ava Huss is Lucas's ex. Or that's the story from what I understand, but …

When Lucas had his accident-the one that left him scarred-Blake and I were the first people to show up at the hospital. She appeared, claiming to be Lucas's girlfriend of sorts. That was news to us. None of us knew Lucas was dating anyone. To be honest, he isn't the type to date anyone seriously. He fucks women. Not indiscriminately, of course, but he doesn't get involved. Ava vanished soon after exchanging a few unpleasant words with Blake at the hospital, and I assumed she was one of those pathetic, parasitical exes looking for an opportunity to worm her way back into his life … and his sizable bank account.

"I'm so sorry about that," Elizabeth says finally. "But we didn't do anything."

"Oh, I know you didn't, Elizabeth," Lucas says. "But Ryder and Elliot?"

"That's not fair," Ryder interjects. "You think I want this shit out there?"

"Don't you? It gets you media attention."

Ryder laughs. "'Media attention.' I'm already world famous, in case you've forgotten."

"Stop fighting," I say. "We have to do damage control, and it's got to come from me and Ryder."

"I'm supposed to trust you guys now?" Lucas snarls.

"We're the ones who are married," I say. "It'll sound better coming from us."

"So categorically deny everything?" Belle asks.

"No, that would be a lie," Blake says thoughtfully. "It's always best to fight truth with truth."

Lucas says, "Not a terrible idea, except the truth doesn't help us here."

"Everyone knows Elliot isn't the type to marry just to get a painting. And Ryder wouldn't marry his assistant over something as ridiculous as this … and start a family," Blake says.

"Think that'll be enough?" Elizabeth asks.

"It has to be. It's the only thing we can say."

"It's all about the delivery," Ryder says. "Definitely no written statement, at least not on my part. I'm scheduled to be on a bunch of talk shows this week to start laying the groundwork for promoting my next movie. So I can mention something there. Very casually, but with enough scorn to make people feel like idiots for believing the rumor."

"That's all fine and good, but when we get our paintings a year after all of us are married, it's going to confirm the rumor was right," Lucas says.

"Is anyone going to be keeping score by then?" I ask.

"Let's worry about that later," Elizabeth says. "What matters is taking care of this mess for now."




 

 

Although she speaks calmly, there is an edge to her tone that makes me worried. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. I just don't like having this out there. I've got enough problems."

I sigh. She has her share of stalkers and obsessive admirers whose single unifying characteristic is being oblivious to her distaste for them. This might encourage a few to take it a step further.

"Okay, then problem solved for now," Ryder says. "Elliot and I will deal with it; the rest of you sit tight."

"If you screw things up, I'm going to break your pretty face," Lucas growls.

"Fine. But when I fix the problem, you owe Paige an apology. She's rather fond of my face."

Lucas curses. But he's no longer yelling, so I know he's good … for now. "When are you marrying Ava?" I ask.

He laughs, but there's a manic edge to it. "After this shit? I'll be lucky if she doesn't spit in my face."

"Where are you?" If he's in town, I want to stop by and check up on him. My instincts warn me that Lucas is a step away from becoming unhinged, even though outwardly he seems to be keeping things together.

There's a pause. "With Ava."

I scowl at the non-answer. "You know you can trust us."

"I do trust you. That doesn't mean I want to share everything or want to see your ugly mug."

I sigh, but let it go. Forcing myself on him would only make things worse.

We end the call since it's late for Blake, and I want to spend some time with my wife. But first …

I hit two of my most active social media accounts and post: Wow. Do I look like the type who gets married just to get a painting?

Belle looks at my statement over my shoulder. "Will that be enough?"

"Should be." I toss my phone on the table. "People know my reputation for not giving a damn about anything."

"Because they don't know you." She links her fingers with mine. "You care so much, you have to fake it."