“We can talk about it later when we’re sure she’s going to be okay. But do you really want to go overseas now? We have so little time before the wedding.”
I pull her closer. “That’s why I hired a team to handle it. So we don’t have to worry over every detail. Like I said, all we have to do is show up and say our vows.” I try to keep my voice light, but somehow I can’t. The one-year period starts the moment we say, “I do.”
She snuggles against my chest and falls asleep. Her breaths tickle the spot over my heart. I study her face. Her long lashes fan over her cheeks, and her nose wrinkles as she rounds her mouth and mutters something that I can’t quite catch.
I don’t break the deals I sign. Despite my wild-boy reputation, I take my career seriously, which is why directors and studios love me. Only idiots think they can be high maintenance divas and have a long, flourishing career in a town as competitive as Hollywood.
But a horrific urge to rip up the prenup and tell Paige she can leave when I’m dead and buried pulses through my veins. Instead, I lie back and stare at the dark ceiling until the sound of her soft breathing lulls me into a restless sleep.
* * *
Paige
Ryder’s gone by the time I wake up. Maybe he couldn’t rest well and just gave up. I felt him toss and turn a few times during the night, but I was so tired that I faded back to sleep just as quickly as I was jostled out of it.
The room is meticulously clean, all my clothes neatly folded and placed on a chair. Did Ryder do that? If so, he might actually be ill, I think, laughing to myself.
The bedside clock reads nine. I stretch lazily and grunt at the satisfying soreness between my legs. I check the phone. A text from Oliver is waiting for me.
All OK. Thank god. But Bethany is being kept for observation. Just in case.
My body sags in relief. I write him back: Glad to hear that. Can I see her today?
A few moments later, he responds, Sure.
“Yes!” Pumping my fist, I hop out of bed. Bethany is going to be fine. Her baby’s undoubtedly all right as well, or Oliver would’ve said something.
I want to see her ASAP, make sure everything’s really okay. Then I’ll talk to Ryder about possibly going overseas. It might be a good idea for us to get away from the spotlight and spend some time together without any pressure. Come to think of it, we’ve never really had a chance to spend any time together alone.
After a quick shower, I throw on a bright magenta t-shirt dress that says “High on Life” in snazzy diagonal teal green letters. By the time I reach the kitchen, Elizabeth and Ryder have finished breakfast, although they’re lingering over coffee. She looks like she’s ready to model for some glossy fashion magazine. Her hair is perfectly curled and gathered into a bouncy ponytail, and the dress she has on matches the shade of red on her lips. Ryder’s more casual in a gray Avengers t-shirt and shorts.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Morning.” Ryder pulls me to his side before I can move past him and gives me a quick kiss on the mouth. He hasn’t shaved, and the hair on his jaw scrapes my skin deliciously.
Elizabeth raises an eyebrow, but a smile tugs at her mouth. “The chef saved you an omelet.”
On cue, a plate of omelet shows up along with utensils and a thick cloth napkin. I sit and start eating. It’s fluffy, with three of my favorite cheeses. The housekeeper places a glass of OJ beside the plate, for which I thank her quietly.
“I just heard from Oliver.” I turn to Elizabeth to bring her up to speed. “My sister got into a car accident yesterday.”
“Oh no! I hope she’s all right.”
“What did he say?” Ryder asks.
“She’s fine. I can go see her today.” Thankfully the weather’s nice, so I won’t have to deal with people acting like the world is coming to an end on the highways. “I was thinking about going after breakfast.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Don’t you have a meeting?”
“It can wait. This is more important.”
I smile at him. “Thank you.”
Ryder squeezes my shoulder and kisses the spot behind my earlobe. The affectionate gesture makes me flush, but I’d lying if I said I wasn’t happy.
He glances at his buzzing phone. I lean over, curious. Not ten people in the world have that number.