“Okay. I’ll get your favorite from the fridge.”
My favorite is Häagen-Dazs pineapple coconut, which Renni can’t stand. She’s more of a vanilla girl. She only ventures out to chocolate flavor when she feels particularly adventurous.
Fresh tears threaten to spill, and I blink them away. And when she brings the ice cream out along with a carton of vanilla, we sit side by side and eat in silence.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ryder
I know the minute Paige leaves the house. The men at the security gates alert me via text.
Should we follow?
The question is innocent. By “follow” they mean to sic a security detail on her.
Meanwhile a part of me thinks if I have her followed, I’ll know where she’s going, possibly figure out what she’s up to.
But it feels like such a gross betrayal to do that. Just because she might’ve betrayed me doesn’t mean I’m going to stoop to the same level. No, I respond.
Pissed off and antsy, I go downstairs to raid the kitchen. We had all kinds of expensive stuff for the party, and I know there have to be leftovers.
I stop short when I see Elliot at the counter with Elizabeth. “What are you still doing here? Mira said everyone left.” I walk around them and get myself a bottle of scotch and a glass, which I fill to the rim. Elizabeth’s radiating enough disapproval to give me a tan, but I don’t give a damn.
Elliot tsks. “Everyone as in every guest. We’re family.” He pushes his empty tumbler my way.
I snort, but pour him two fingers’ worth.
Elizabeth peers behind me. A glass of chilled Riesling sits in front of her. “Where’s Paige?”
“Out.”
“I didn’t see her leave.”
“You wouldn’t have, if you were in the kitchen.” The house is too big to notice who’s coming in or out. That’s why I have security, gates and the wall.
“Is she okay?” Elizabeth asks.
“I guess.”
“You guess?” Her eyebrows climb her forehead. “You didn’t talk to her?”
I sigh, not liking having to answer the question. “We did, but it wasn’t very productive. Both too emotional.”
Elliot shakes his head. “Damn, Ryder. You should be with her. She needs you.”
“Thanks for the advice there, love-sensei.”
“He’s right,” Elizabeth says. “What happened to her is so terrible, she’s going to need all the support she can get. Besides, you need to brainstorm with Mira about how you can get back at the person responsible.”
“You mean sue?”
“Good god, no.” Elizabeth gestures with her glass. “You’re a great actor. Pretend you’re…” She considers. “Pretend you’re Dane. What would you do?”
What would that borderline sociopath do? Nothing as simple as filing a lawsuit. “Probably ensure that he can never have what he wants the most.”
“Okay, good. Do you know what that is?”
“Fame and fortune. He’s in Hollywood, isn’t he?” From what I gathered, Shaun is handsome enough to be an actor, although he’s never gotten a role. But a good face isn’t even close to enough. L.A. is spilling over with good-looking men.