A Hollywood Bride (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 2) (18 page)

“—and the contract.”

“I’ll handle it,” I say.

“Huh?”

“I said I’ll deal with it. You need to get well and not worry about comics or contracts or…anything like that.”

“Thanks, but I can take care of all that,” Oliver says.

I cross my arms. “No, you need to be with your wife, making sure that she and the baby are fine. I’m good at handling details like this. Trust me.”

“Well…I hate to involve you, but it isn’t that complicated,” Bethany says. “There’re just some notes that need to be taken to my lawyer. I didn’t get to type them up before, you know…”

“No problem. I can do that.”

Bethany has the neatest handwriting I’ve ever seen. Her lawyer won’t have any problem understanding what she wants. And if he needs clarification, he can always call her.

“Well, okay. If you insist. They’re on my desk in my office.” She smiles. “And thanks.”

* * *

Ryder

It’s pretty obvious that Paige wants to take care of the contract stuff for Bethany as soon as possible. Since I’d also like some time alone to figure out who’s pretending to represent me, I tell her to take the car and go. I’ll arrange for a ride later.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Positive. I know you’re going to worry about it otherwise, and the traffic’s not too bad right now.” Not that that’s saying much. It is L.A. after all.

“Okay. Thanks.” She goes on tiptoe and kisses me on the mouth. The spontaneous public display surprises me. She’s never done it before. Warmth curls in my belly. I hug her tightly, wanting to prolong the moment.

“Catch you later.” She gives me a quick smile and slides into the Mercedes.

I watch her leave, then pull out my phone when the car disappears from sight. The lawyer’s office has already responded.

Lex is on vacation
.
Will be back next week
.
If urgent
,
we can have one of his associates take a look
,
but it may take longer
.

Of all the time to be on vacation, naturally it has to be today. The other people in his office aren’t as familiar with my situation…but I don’t feel like waiting.

Yes
.
Have somebody else get me the answer
.
It’s urgent
.

I also text Mira, but she’s out of town as well for some emergency meeting with production people for one of her clients. I consider calling and asking her point blank, but something stops me. It’d be better to see her reaction in person when we talk about this.
Can you swing by as soon as you’re back in town?
I text.

Will do
.

The sight of Bethany’s face won’t leave me. She looked awful, and I bet there were a lot more bruises and injuries underneath the hospital gown. The woman is admirably upbeat, but I wish she’d at least groused about how unfair it was that she’s hurt or something. That might’ve made me feel…

I narrow my eyes.
Less guilty?
The realization doesn’t make me particularly proud of myself.

If someone on my team caused Bethany’s accident—directly or indirectly—I have to take care of it. And without involving Paige. Keeping her in the dark is lying by omission, but the alternative is losing her.

And I can’t lose her. Not now.

Paige

Even with the lighter than normal traffic, it takes a little over an hour to reach Bethany and Oliver’s house. My phone’s been buzzing nonstop in my purse, but I’ve been ignoring it. I never talk on the phone when I’m driving, not even for Ryder.

After I park the Mercedes in front of the house, I check the log. I have like a gazillion unread texts and over twenty missed calls.

All from a number I do not recognize.

I frown. My number isn’t exactly a state secret, not the way Ryder’s is, but it isn’t public either. Since there are way too many texts for me to read—most of them repeating
Call me back
.
It’s really urgent!
—I dial. There is a possibility that it’s some freak who managed to get a hold of my mobile info, but it could also be somebody who genuinely has pressing business…

It takes only two rings before the other party answers. “Thank god you called me back!”

Every cell in my body tenses. “Shaun?”

“I’ve tried to call you for days, but you wouldn’t answer.”

“I had your number blocked, obviously! Do you honestly think I want to talk to you?” Then something else occurs to me. “Are you stalking me? I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to talk to you after what you pulled.”

“Okay, okay,
don’t hang up!
”

“Go to h—”

“Paige, I didn’t do it! I swear!”

Anger and something far uglier churn in my heart like a dark, stormy sea. “Riiight. A camera just set itself up in your closet and happened to start recording when we were having sex. Then the video conveniently uploaded itself to YouTube through your computer.”

“No, you don’t understand! Okay, I did the recording. I thought it would be…well, you know, hot to look at it later. Besides, I thought I looked good in it.”

“Oh, for god’s sake! How do you ever find hats to fit your head?” I can’t believe I dated this man, thinking he was the best I could do. Good lord. I’d rather sew up my lady parts than be with him ever again!

“But Paige, I swear to god, I didn’t upload it anywhere! Just think for a minute. What does the tape get me? I’m not going to become famous because of it. Nobody gives a shit about the guy in those videos, you know that.
And
it would only piss off Ryder, which is
not
what I ever wanted to do. I wanted him to star in my movie!”

“Shaun, I really don’t give a damn what you did because the sex video is out there for everyone to see, including my parents.”

“Did they really watch it?”

“I don’t know and I didn’t ask,” I spit.

“I can’t get a gig anywhere now, and Ryder’s lawyers are demanding, like, ten million dollars. What the fuck? I know he’s blackballed me.”

“
Good
. I told you you’d never get anywhere with him. But you’re so full of yourself you wouldn’t listen.”

“No,
you
aren’t listening. I didn’t do it! I’m telling you, my account got hacked!”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious. I even had to change my password.”

“To what? Shaunisawesome?”

A short pause. “How did you know?”

I close my eyes. “Oh my god…” I can’t even. “Shaun, listen to me very carefully. If you ever call me again, I will tell Ryder, and his lawyers will add harassment to whatever they’re suing you for already. I’m not going to lift a finger on your behalf, so you’ve just wasted both our time. You should spend your energy trying to convince Ryder and his lawyers that you are an
innocent victim
of hacking!” Breathing hard, I hang up and toss the phone back into my purse.

Just thinking about what he’s done is infuriating. But at the same time, the fact that he’s going to pay for it sends a hot streak of satisfaction through me. I told Ryder to let it go, but maybe he was right to teach Shaun a lesson. Some people just won’t learn without getting their wrists slapped, and I have a feeling that Shaun is one of the slower ones.

I climb out of the car and unlock Bethany’s house. Her office is on the second floor, so I climb the stairs and find it tidy as usual. She absolutely abhors clutter. I see a stack of papers on the desk plus a spiral notebook. I open it to make sure it has notes for the contract. Satisfied, I put it in my purse then stop. The first page of the contract has the information about Bethany’s web comic site and the other party: The Reed Trust.

I pause for a moment, remembering Julian’s threat. He wanted me to humiliate Ryder by ditching him at the altar. If I wouldn’t cooperate, he was going to start going after the people I care about. Is this somehow part of that threat?

I scan the contact info further. An address in L.A. Then a name: Brian Miller.

I blink. Brian Miller is Ryder’s business manager. Brian has other clients, of course, but this…

And there have to be other Brian Millers in Los Angeles, I tell myself. It’s not an uncommon name.

Still…

I tap my finger on the paper. If Ryder had created a trust, he probably wouldn’t have named it “Reed” since he hates Julian and everything his father stands for. On the other hand, he did adore his grandfather. And he genuinely enjoyed Bethany’s comics. So he could’ve formed a trust and named it “Reed” for his grandfather, then decided to fund Bethany’s comics.

I skim the rest of the paperwork, looking for clues. All I come away with is a sense that Ryder is not behind it. If he were, the contract terms wouldn’t be so onerous. He would’ve been tough, of course, but much fairer. He wouldn’t be asking to hold Bethany’s comics hostage for twenty-five years in the event that the partnership breaks up, and he certainly wouldn’t be demanding that Bethany match at least fifty percent of the money the trust is pouring into the venture.

But first things first. I take the notes and go back to my car, locking the house back up on the way out.

The drive over to Bethany’s lawyer’s office isn’t bad. The receptionist is a friendly Asian woman in her late fifties. Steel gray streaks her otherwise jet black hair, and she has large gold earrings in the shape of musical notes. “Thank you,” she says, taking the notebook. Her face creases as she smiles.

“Mind if I ask you a question?”

“Not at all.”

“Do you know who owns The Reed Trust?”

“Hmm. Not really. Let me see.” She taps a few keys on her laptop. “Nothing here except a contact number for the representative. Brian Miller. Do you need his information?”

“Could I get that number from you?”

“Sure.” She writes it down and gives me the slip of paper with another smile.

Sure enough, it’s a number I recognize. As I leave the office, I call Brian.

“Hallo, Paige.” His voice is lightly accented—British I think. He always sounds jovial and cheery. “I’m surprised to hear from you. Thought you’d be busy with the wedding.”

“Not quite that busy. We have a good team in place to help.”

“Always pleasant to hear. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to know about The Reed Trust.”

“Ah.” Something in his tone changes. I can almost imagine him shifting his weight in his seat. “Of course, I can’t go into detail. Attorney-client privilege and all that. But it’s a fairly complex trust. Multiple layers.”

“Is it Ryder’s?”

“No, I wouldn’t imagine so. It belongs to a client one of my colleagues used to handle, but after his retirement, the account came to me. I’ve yet to meet the client, actually. Just his lawyers.”

“I see. Apparently, it’s interested in funding my stepsister’s web comic business. Bethany Smith?”

“Ah. That. A good opportunity, I thought. She’s quite talented.”

“Thank you.”

We exchange a few pleasantries and hang up. What he says makes sense. If it were Ryder’s, he would know.

But… I shake my head.
Reed
. It’s just too big a coincidence.

Then I tell myself to stop being paranoid. Still… I can’t ignore the bad feeling. I dial Gary, who picks it up after a few rings.

“Sup, Paige?” he says.

“I wanted to know if you can help me with something.” Gary’s a natural extrovert, and knows all sorts of people.

“Shoot.”

“You said one of your friends is a PI, right?

“Yeah. He mostly does boring stuff like following spouses around town, seeing if they’re cheating or not…although he’s also pretty good at digging up hidden assets during divorce proceedings.” Suddenly he stops. “Uh…you need something like that?”

I chuckle. “Ryder isn’t cheating on me, so no.”

“Okay. Whew.”

“It’s about a trust. I want to know who owns it, but I can’t seem to find the info.”

“I can ask, but it’s gonna cost you. That guy
never
works for free.”

“I can pay.” One thing about living with Ryder, my account has been growing fatter because I don’t have to spend any money on food or clothes or…anything, really. “I’ll text you the info. Tell him it’s urgent.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure he gets on it ASAP.”

“Thanks.” I hang up. I’m probably going to end up wasting that money, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.

Paige

It’s been two days since Ryder and I visited Bethany in the hospital. I watch my phone like a hawk, but there’s nothing from Gary or his friend. Bethany is back home and seems to be doing well. Her face is slowly returning to normal, and she’s back on top of her contract negotiations, which are apparently becoming a pain in the nether region. But she’s managing.

Ryder is another matter.

He makes love to me at night as desperately and passionately as before—that time when I thought he was going to say, “I love you.” But during the day, he’s distant, often in deep in thought, and paces around his office, his hands curled into fists. He doesn’t even glance at the scripts Mira sends over, and it isn’t like him to neglect work. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was worried.

I want to figure out what’s wrong, but every time I ask, he turns it aside with a joke. I’m not imagining things though; even Elizabeth notices.

“He is acting a bit odd, isn’t he?” she says over late morning coffee.

I nibble on a cracker. “Yeah. Did he say anything to you?”

“Nope. Nothing. I’m almost worried about him.”

“Why?”

“He was like this when we heard that our grandpa was ill. The doctor wasn’t sure if he would recover, but grandpa eventually pulled through.”

“Anyone in your family sick?” I ask.

“Nah. All of us siblings are a sturdy lot, and he certainly wouldn’t act like this if it was Dad.”

I frown, unsure what to make of Elizabeth’s revelation. After we finish our mid-morning snack, I go to his office. Sure enough, Ryder’s pacing again.

“Hey.” I put a hand over his fist.

“Huh?” He stops pacing and looks at me, blinking as though he’s having a hard time switching gears.

“Are you still worried about Bethany and her baby?” Normally I wouldn’t assume that, but he did show unusual concern for their welfare…