That was an easy one. “Your accountant sucks. Money needs to be managed, not resting in a coffee can until you have bills to pay. He should be making more strategic investments for you.”
“Well then, you need to fix this. I’m adding this shit to your wifely duties. You feel comfortable and you want to manage it, I’ll fire him. It’s that simple.”
As good as that made me feel, part of me was freaked that I might screw up. The fact that he trusted me with his millions was humbling. “If you want me to.”
He was all business, still reviewing documents. “I want you to, starting now. I’m emailing the files to you. Let’s get this shit straightened out because I am so not liking losing five fucking figures on market fluctuations.”
I could do that. “Okay. By the way, are you ever going to give me my debit card back?”
He didn’t bother to look up, simply saying, “No. And don’t ask again.”
I was startled by his abrupt, authoritative tone. “I seemed to remember you threatening punishment if I tried to steal it back.”
That got his attention. “You want to defy me?”
It was worth considering. “Maybe.”
His eyes heated with the challenge. “Just make sure your lovely ass is on a plane on Tuesday. I’ll deal with you then.”
“Trish is taking me dress shopping and then I’ve arranged for us to have dinner with Cal and Kelly Wednesday night.”
I watched the hint of a smile spread across his lips. I knew it pleased him that I was making ties within his circle of celebrity friends. “Good. Very good. They’ll be at the MTV Movie Awards, too. You nervous?”
This would be my first awards show—ever. I hadn’t really checked my nerves with everything else going on. Ryan looked over his shoulder. That’s when I saw Mike’s head flash in the background.
“Problem’s been contained,” Mike muttered. “Ten minutes.”
“Okay, thanks.” Ryan turned back to me. “You still flying back with me to Vancouver on Thursday?”
“What’s going on there? What problem?”
I could see him trying to decide whether or not to share. “Some overly enthusiastic fans got onto the set. They were mingled in with some of the extras. We had to take a break from filming to sort it all out.”
My skin prickled. “Are you in danger?”
“No.”
For some reason I didn’t believe him. “Would you tell me if you were?”
My eyes met his on the screen. “I’m not in danger, babe. I don’t need you worrying for nothing.”
I was just about to argue when Marie came in, carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses in a clear crystal vase. “Someone got flowers.” She beamed at me.
I smiled widely at him, deeply touched that he’d do something so sweet. “Ryan! God, they’re beautiful.” I shoved my nose into one of the open blooms, savoring the fresh smell. “Thank you.”
He appeared confused, then pissed. “I’d like to take credit, but I didn’t send you flowers. Who the hell is sending you flowers?”
I opened the card and read it out loud.
Dear Taryn,
I know you don’t know me but I am a huge fan and I hope these flowers brighten your day. I thought this might encourage you as well . . . “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Have a wonderful day lovely lady!
Jeremy
I suddenly felt sick. Ryan’s murderous glare was enough to make me go pale. “You don’t leave the house without an escort. Ever. Got me?” He yelled over his shoulder for Mike.
“I can’t live in fear, Ryan,” I muttered, annoyed that my once-peaceful oblivion was now convoluted by psychopaths and unknown birth certificates. I pushed the vase off to the side as if it were a ticking bomb.
I knew he was angry; that much was evident. “The shit is coming to your house, Taryn. To your damn door.” He dialed someone on his phone and seconds later, Mike rushed into Ryan’s trailer. After briefing him, Ryan asked for Marie. He made her read the card, out loud. “She doesn’t go outside without someone by her side—ever.”
I was mad, disgusted. Stupid flowers, sequestering me to my own home, making me feel as if I were a prisoner.
I was on the telephone with Andrea, who works for Ryan’s agent, ironing out my travel arrangements to L.A. for the MTV Movie Awards next week when someone pounded on the apartment door, startling the crap out of me.
I was relieved to hear Tammy’s voice answer back. I opened the door to see her standing there, visibly shaken. I had heard her down in the kitchen, but it was barely noon so I had no idea what had her so frantic.
“They just took Pete to the hospital,” she sobbed. “He dropped me off this morning so I don’t have a car.”
I yelled for Marie and grabbed my purse and keys.
“He fell off a roof. That’s all I know,” Tammy said as we rushed down the alley to my car.
Marie gave me a concerned look, knowing I was violating Ryan’s direct order.
“He said I don’t go out alone. He didn’t specify with whom.” I really didn’t care about my safety; I was more worried about Pete.
Tammy hopped in the front seat. “What’s going on?”
Marie climbed into the back. “Oh nothing. Just the usual whack-jobs stalking Taryn. Someone sent her roses yesterday.”
I didn’t want to think about it for too long or else I’d be inclined to run and hide in my closet with the baseball bat. “It’s nothing. Just flowers.”
“It’s creepy as shit,” Marie muttered.
I drove as fast as I could to the emergency room, knowing Tammy was beside herself. We were all fraught with worry. The three of us stormed through the automatic doors at St. Luke’s and into the large waiting room.
I saw the color drain out of Tammy’s cheeks when the girl behind the desk asked if Tammy was immediate family. Her fear for the unknown, thinking the worst, mirrored mine.
“Go.” I gave Tammy’s elbow a nudge for her to follow the nurse. Marie and I found an empty corner of the waiting room.
“God, I hope he’s all right,” Marie uttered, scrolling through her cell.
I shoved my keys in my purse, beating back my worry for Pete. Hopefully we’d hear something soon.
“Did you talk to Tammy this morning?”
She shook her head and concentrated on her phone. “What am I supposed to say to her? I guess I’ll just bow out of being in the wedding, since Gary seems to be hell-bent on staying a groomsman. You know what pisses me off? He hates weddings. We almost didn’t get married because he didn’t want a big wedding. You remember that? He’s doing this crap out of spite. I know it. I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”
“Doesn’t matter much now, does it?” I nodded at her thumbs, busy texting to Mike again.
Marie gave a wry smile and snapped her phone shut. “He’s pretty incredible. I’m trying not to mess this up.”
I gazed at the Weather Channel on the waiting room television. “I wish you could go with me to L.A.”
“Yeah, me too. I hate that you’re doing all of this world traveling without me.” Her eyes cut over to me. “I miss him.”
I could hear the longing in her voice. “Can I ask you something?”
She met my glance.
“What are your thoughts about managing the bar full-time?”
She looked away, shaking her head as if she didn’t like the idea. “You know, if you would have asked me that five months ago, I would have jumped at the chance. Now?” Marie shrugged. “I never thought I’d be twenty-eight and going through a divorce. Sometimes I want to run from this town and never look back.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Besides you and my dad there’s not much else holding me here.”
I nodded. “You and that bar are the only things keeping me here,” I said. “I can’t . . . I can’t be in two places at once and I definitely
know I wouldn’t be able to trust the pub to just anyone. And you and Tammy . . . I can’t sell it. I won’t do that to you.”
“You can’t worry about us. You have to do what’s right for you.” She sat quietly for a moment. “We’d need to hire more staff to replace you. You know I can run the pub, but, honestly Tar, I’m not sure I want to anymore. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking myself wondering what I’m going to do next.”
I knew exactly how she felt. She and I had fallen into a rut where keeping the bar running after my father died was almost like a moral obligation.
“What do you want to do?” I asked.
She seemed reluctant to share. “Well, Mike mentioned that there’s a huge demand for female bodyguards. A lot of celebrities are using females in their security detail now. I don’t know. I’d have to learn self-defense and do some weapons training first but . . . He’s been trying to convince me to give it a try.”
“That something you’d be interested in doing?”
“Well, it sounds really intriguing and he’s even willing to train me, so . . . Gary said I was a bitch; might as well get paid to be a professional one.”
Surprisingly, I wasn’t overly stunned. Marie was lithe but fierce at the core. What did surprise me was her newfound fire for doing something completely different.
“You can be my bodyguard,” I teased jokingly, but as I said it, I thought about how cool it would be if she were.
“Well, yeah. I was actually thinking that. You seem to attract a whole lotta crazy.”
We both snickered at that until the realization that I had no defense skills of my own trickled in.
“I don’t know if Mike and I have a future,” she continued, shirking it off, “but with or without him there’s so much more world to see than just the inside of the pub. You’re traveling and seeing places, Mike has been all around the freakin’ globe . . . I just want—more. This thing with Gary? It’s been brewing for a long time. And now . . . well, I just want to cut my losses and move on.”
I saw the desire in her eyes, and wished she had been with me in Paris; none of that embarrassing nonsense would have gone down if she’d been with me. “Are you seriously considering it?”
She nodded and then her shoulders slumped. “I think I’d be real good at it. But it doesn’t matter what I want. There are courses I’d have to take and Mike told me about this four-week certification program that a friend of his runs. Problem is, I don’t have the money or the time. And the last thing I want is for Mike to view me as a career clinger.”
I’d sell the bar before I’d let her give up hope. We’d been to hell and back and I’d give anything to see her happy again. I dug out my phone and called Mike. He answered on the third ring.
Marie was still glaring at me when I hung up. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
I tried to defuse her with the same admonishing glare. “You want to get out of Seaport or not?”
“Yes, but you just tossed that on him. Of course he wouldn’t say no. He’s going to think I’m a whack job.”
Her mouth snapped shut when I smiled at her. “He was very enthusiastic so quit worrying.” I texted Ryan, telling him Pete was in the hospital. “Besides, the man nailed you for six hours straight. I’m pretty sure that allows you to ask a favor or two.”
“That was just sex,” she muttered. “I’m not reading anything into it.”
“I don’t think so. He’s smitten.”
She twisted her lips at my word. “I’ve had guys smitten before. It never lasts. Once they get into your pants it’s just a matter of time until the novelty wears off. I’m actually surprised it hasn’t happened already. He’ll sleep with some other girls soon and then I’ll be a distant memory, so I’m not getting my hopes up.”
I frowned at her doubt but I totally knew how she felt.
“And what happens when Ryan doesn’t need him anymore? He’ll have to find other clients. He can’t drag his girlfriend around in a suitcase . . . well, unless he buys one of those inflatable ones, although I highly doubt he’d ever go plastic.”
I chuckled. “He is a damn good-looking man.”
“That he is. Looks even better naked.” She grinned.
“Is he being weird or anything since? You seem happy, so I guess he hasn’t turned into a flaming asshole yet.”
“No.” She laughed modestly. “He’s been super-sweet. Almost too good to be true sometimes.”
“He calls you all the time.”
She was glowing with that look of dreamy love. “I know.”
I read Ryan’s reply, asking me to fill him in once I knew Pete’s condition. “Then quit your worrying.”
She huffed. “But then you’ll be strapped.”
“I won’t be strapped. It will all work out.”
I practically jumped out of my seat when Tammy came through the double doors. Her face was ashen and worried. “Is he?” I started, not sure of what to ask. I handed a tissue to her.
Her hand shook when she pushed her hair behind her ear. “He’s awake but he’s banged up pretty bad.
He just had an MRI and now they’re taking him for X-rays. He’s got a big lump on his forehead. His left arm is definitely broken and his knee and ankle are all swollen. The doctor wants to make sure that he doesn’t have any internal bleeding or swelling since he hit his head. They said he was unconscious for a bit on the job site.”
I wrapped my arm around her back, guiding her to sit down for a moment. “What happened?”
Tammy wiped the corners of her eyes. “Apparently he was carrying a pack of shingles and slipped. He fell like eight feet.”
Marie grabbed the box of tissues that was on the table in the waiting room and took the seat next to her. “He’ll be all right. He’s tough.”
It took about an hour, but I was relieved when we were finally able to visit with him. I almost wanted to cry seeing him bandaged up with a big white cast on his arm. Pete gave me a weak smile, as if he were embarrassed. I slipped my hand into his and he squeezed my fingers while I tried not to think about how bad this day could have been.
The large purple lump on his forehead and a few cuts near his eye were frightening reminders of how things could have turned from broken bones to tragedy.
Chapter 16
Limelight
I climbed into the large, black Suburban that had been dispatched to take us to the MTV Movie Awards; I was holding the edge of my thigh-revealing dress so I wouldn’t accidently flash my undies. Thoughts of my friends, of Pete’s slow recovery and that I wasn’t there to help, were with me even though my friends were thousands of miles away on the other side of the States.
I sat quickly in the single seat, ridding myself of my stilettos to make the climb into the bench back seat easier, tamping down the budding nervousness growing from the anticipation. Ryan climbed in behind me, looking devastatingly gorgeous. He was wearing fitted black jeans, a black V-neck tee, a gray blazer, and his game face. The scent of his cologne was enough to make me want to strip him bare and nuzzle his neck for a few hours.
He leered over at me, smirking with those wet lips that knew my secrets, reminding me that all of this celebrity ass-kissing, management team ordering, fan-pleasing hoopla came with the game.
“What?” His question came out as a low, hungry purr.
All I could do was smile and keep the overwhelming craziness in perspective. Nuzzling his nakedness would come later. I bit my bottom lip, thinking about rolling my tongue over all of his secret spots. My mouth was actually watering from thinking about it. His eyes darkened. “I like the way your mind works.
Can you hold that thought for a few hours?”
Mike cleared his throat and by his private little chuckle I could tell we weren’t discreet enough.
David sat in front of me, playing with his Rolex again, going over the details of our evening. Trish sat in the single seat in front of Ryan, reviewing some papers and then giving Ryan the rundown of what was expected a
t our arrival.
I could tell by his concerned look that he was more worried about me than another public appearance.
Leaning his head toward me, he softly asked, “You okay?”
My mind initially screamed “hell no” after seeing the huge crowds gathered. Instead I nodded sharply, giving him my most assured smile. “Oh sure. This is old hat,” I joked. I felt the warmth of his hand when his fingers laced with mine.
Ryan gave me a tug and a trademark smart-ass smirk, finding the humor in my response. “Old hat.
Cocky. Love it.”
That still didn’t ease the stranglehold of nervous excitement twisting my stomach as we slowed in the line of cars depositing other celebrity attendees. Mike, David, and Trish exited the car first and closed the doors. Ryan and I slid to the middle seats by the doors, where I put my shoes back on, waiting for our cue to exit. Mike would not let us get out until our other security escort was present and he’d had an opportunity to do a scan of the scene. I knew the drill: stay in formation, keep moving. Mike was always positioned behind Ryan on his right side.
Ryan was agitated by the sheer number of people milling about. “I’m not talking to any press.” He growled a low reminder at Trish when Mike opened his door.
No sooner did his toe hit the ground than people started screaming and yelling for his attention. It was so comforting when he turned back to take me by the hand; I knew we were going in as a team.
“We’re to the left for press photos,” Trish advised, steering us toward a huge wall with the MTV logo and year printed in a repeat pattern.
I wanted to let go of his hand so I wouldn’t have to pose for pictures. This wasn’t about me being here; I had come to terms with that. This was all about the celebrity making an appearance that drove the frenzied crowd to near madness. Ryan faltered a bit, unsure at first of what was expected of him. There was always someone instructing, guiding, telling him to go there, stand here, head in that direction. No matter how many times he’d done this before, I could see through the façade that he was nervous.