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.”
“I mean, when did this relationship start?” she asks.
“What about all those women he was seen dating?” Simon asks. “Mrs. Glenn said he destroyed a hotel suite a few weeks ago with a woman, and I’m certain it wasn’t you.”
Not me, since I know how to spell asshole. Of course I can’t tell Simon that.
The kettle whistles, and Jean pours water into a black mug that reads The Sexiest Man Alive. I rest my face on the counter, staring at the steam rising from the surface. Soon…soon…
“Honey?” Mom prompts.
“Mrs. Glenn shouldn’t believe everything she reads,” I say. “It’s Hollywood. Half the stuff they print is lies, and that’s being generous.”
“But…” She hesitates. “We’re worried about you.”
I pause. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”
They were beside themselves when Bethany got engaged.
“We aren’t concerned about you being engaged,” Simon says. “The issue is that the man is Ryder Reed. If what you say is true and most of what the media says about him is lies, then we don’t know anything about him.” Displeasure colors his voice. “Not to mention, he never asked me for my permission. I’ve never even met the man.”