“I don’t hate him.”
“Really? Is that why every time he releases a new movie you send a binder full of negative reviews? Of all the petty things to—”
“It’s for his own good. He needs to learn respect and humility.”
Is this guy serious? “You should be proud of him. He got to where he is without your help.”
“Is that what he told you?” Julian’s mouth twists. “Luck is nothing to be proud of. Nor is winning the genetic jackpot. Do you think it was through his own effort that he was born to me and his mother—to the best families in America? Or that it was through his own effort that he’s as handsome as he is? Of course not. He got most of his looks from me and perhaps a bit from his mother.”
I snort. If Julian really believes that, he’s deranged.
He continues, “And it’s not through his own effort that a bloodsucker like that agent of his discovered him and is using him to line her own pockets.”
“You don’t understand him at all. He’s smart, and works incredibly hard.”
Julian laughs until tears roll down his cheeks. Gasping for air, he wipes them away with an index finger. “That’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard. Oh, how I wish Geraldine’s mother were here. She always thought Ryder was slightly retarded.”
My jaw slackens. “What?”
“You didn’t know that? Shirley Pryce, the Matriarch,” he says, making finger quotes in the air and raising his eyebrows in mock awe, “considered Ryder too stupid to be a Pryce. Except he was one, much to her displeasure, and he didn’t even bother to go to college despite her insistence that he do so. I bet it killed that old bat she couldn’t deny he was one of them.” His mouth curls into a sneer. “He has the Pryce profile.” He hands me another mini-bottle of water. When I don’t take it, he shrugs and drinks it himself. “Now, let’s get down to business. I can double whatever Ryder’s promised you. And you won’t have to tie yourself to a man who probably hates you right now for that sex tape. It’s one thing to know your fiancée isn’t a virgin. It’s quite another to see her fucking another man.”
I tighten my hands into fists and
force myself to breathe calmly. It won’t do me any good to get myself worked up over Julian’s words. “I have no intention of betraying him. And I don’t care how big the carrot you’re dangling is. You think you’re the first person to offer me money?”
“No. But I’m quite sure that I’m the first person to tell you that if sweetness doesn’t work, I’m willing to be more drastic.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Oh, no. If I become drastic, my dear, everyone will get hurt, not just you.”
The absolute conviction in his words shakes me. The man is enough of a megalomaniac to believe he’s entitled to get what he wants, using whatever means necessary. And his threat to hurt the people around me is delivered in such a calm way that I start to wonder if he’s sane.
“If you go after people I care about, I will fight back,” I say.
“Then you are a fool,” he purrs like an amused predator toying with its prey. “And have no sense of self-preservation.”
I almost crush the water bottle in my hand. Julian may be right about my sense of self-preservation or lack thereof, but I won’t just sit back and let him walk all over me.
Apparently having made his point, he doesn’t bother to talk to me for the rest of the ride. I watch the scenery go by outside. The silence is better than his smugness and threats.
Finally we make it to Z. Fortunately, my car’s still in the parking lot…and it’s intact. You never know in L.A.
I get out before Julian’s driver can open the door. The man still hustles over. I start to pull off his jacket, but he shakes his head, gesturing for me to keep it.
Julian says, “It was lovely talking with you, my dear. Take your time and think about what I said.”
Over my dead body. The driver shuts the Bentley door and the car pulls away.
I unlock my Altima and sit in the driver’s seat. I grip the steering wheel and immediately let go; it’s hot enough to grill beef.
Okay. Roll down the windows, crank the A/C. In a few moments it’s cool enough that I can sit and actually think about what Julian said. First decision: I’m not going to do what he asked. It’s wrong, and Ryder doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.
But Julian also made some good points. Based on what’s happened since the sex tape was released, it’s clear Ryder doesn’t trust me. A trusting man wouldn’t have lashed out at me the way he did. And I don’t know if I can go ahead and marry him if he distrusts me, even if it’s only for a year.
I sit for a while with the A/C blowing, mulling things over. But my phone finally beeps, pulling me out of my thoughts.
It’s a text from Ryder.