“They did?” Simon thought Ryder was a womanizing jerk. Okay, maybe not quite a jerk, but something pretty close.
“Yeah. I spoke with them at the party. Dad said he felt a bit relieved about the two of you.”
That’s news to me. I had no idea.
“Paige, all relationships require work. It’s just that…sometimes the payoff isn’t worth it. So if you feel that way about Ryder, then I support your decision to end the relationship. If not, then…”
“But he doesn’t trust me, Bethany,” I say. “That’s why I thought it’d be better if we stop now, before we go too far.”
She thinks about that for a few moments. “Did he say he doesn’t trust you?”
“The tape.” I swallow. Just thinking about it leaves me shaking with rage and humiliation. “He thought I released it.”
Bethany gasps. “Is he insane?”
“No. It’s just his experience. That’s what women in Hollywood do.”
“But you’re not, you know… One of them.”
“Not to Ryder. To him, every woman wants to be famous.” I rest my chin in my palm. “I feel like he and I just…went over the same territory again and again. Ever since the tape was released, we kept talking about it without ever coming to a decision.”
“But you didn’t really have a chance. You were at the hospital, and now this.”
Suddenly tired, I close my eyes. Bethany is probably right. Ryder and I have gone through so many experiences since the night of our engagement party, charged with high emotions, most of them dark and ugly.
Bethany huffs out a breath audibly. “That job he offered… Is it your old job?”
“Yes.”
“So if he doesn’t trust you, why would he do that? It doesn’t make sense. You’re going to be able to access all his information.”
I pause. That never occurred to me, but Bethany’s right. He doesn’t hire anybody without vetting them thoroughly first and making them sign a non-disclosure agreement.
So maybe… Maybe Ryder does trust me after all, but he just doesn’t quite know it yet or hasn’t transitioned from “I trust Paige my Assistant” to “I trust Paige my Bride-to-Be.”
I gaze out at the LA cityscape. In spite of calling me babe and having me clean up his messes, he’s always treated me with respect. He never questioned the way I did my job or let anybody else boss me around. Not even Mira could treat me like the hired help in front of Ryder. And after we decided to marry for a year, he kept his promise to ensure I was never humiliated or hurt. I look down at the gorgeous engagement ring. He didn’t have to go that far, but he did. He made sure I’ll have sufficient funds after our divorce to be comfortable. He never once raised his voice or acted out in anger until Shaun released the sex tape.
He’s reacting to Lauren’s betrayal. It’s really not you.
Maybe he’s trying to make amends in the only way he knows how. For all his popularity and good looks, he can be clueless at times, and he is very careful about giving too much of himself to anybody. It isn’t surprising, given what I know. His folks easily win the Worst Parents of All Time award, and his grandmother sounds like a horror show. If she was even remotely like Ryder’s mother, I’m certain the older woman never hid the fact that she thought Ryder was retarded.
“Paige? You’re awfully quiet,” Bethany says.
“Yeah… You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“All helpful, I hope?”
“Of course.” I smile my first true smile since Shaun released the tape. “Thank you.”
I can’t fix the pain we’ve suffered, but I can certainly do something about our future. I go back inside.
TJ looks up from his phone, raising an eyebrow.
I inhale deeply. “I’m going home.”
Chapter Eleven
Ryder
“Is Paige all right?” Elliot asks, a glass of scotch in his hand. He came over when he heard—or to be more precise saw—what happened outside Jones & Jones. The assholes who filmed the fight uploaded the clip everywhere, and it’s not even five. I don’t get the motivation behind doing such things, but maybe posting it on YouTube is supposed to be more heroic than helping the victim.
Sinking deeper into the living room couch that faces the garden, I drink my scotch. It burns. Too bad it can’t burn away the nasty taste in the back of my throat. “As far as I know.”
“And you?”
“I’m not the one who got attacked.”
“You shielded her…”
“Not the same thing.” My voice is terse.
Elliot shakes his head. “How did it happen?”
“I have no idea. Paige left first. When I got to the lobby, she was already outside and the attack had started.”
“Damn.” He knocks back his scotch. “Mira was right after all.”
“About what?”
“She said when a woman has sex, she’s a slut. And when a woman is labeled a slut, she’s fair game.”
Elliot isn’t saying anything I didn’t know. I’ve seen how female celebrities end up being a Public Target Number One. But Paige isn’t a celebrity. “I had no idea it was this bad for her.”
“She never complained?”
“Once. A little bit.” She told me the only reason she agreed to the interview with Derek Madison was to tell her side of the story because she was tired of people making stuff up about her, portraying her badly. I rejected that explanation, telling myself she just wanted to be famous.
I squeeze my eyes shut. How could I have been so wrong?
Elliot wisely says nothing for a moment, letting me stew in self-recrimination. “She’s just being targeted more because she doesn’t fit the image of a deserving woman.”
Raising my head, I look at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You know. She’s not model gorgeous, not from a rich or famous family, not a size zero, didn’t go to some fancy school, and didn’t have some kind of noble job.”
“What the hell is a ‘noble’ job?”
“Like feeding children or advocating for abused women or whatever.”
My face scrunches. Shallow, judgmental people piss me off. “First of all, Paige is gorgeous. It isn’t my fault that people can’t see that. And you don’t have to be rich or famous or a size zero, or have an Ivy League diploma to be worthy. If that’s the criteria, people should pelt me with eggs and tomatoes.” I have the looks, wealth and a famous family behind me, but I don’t have anything else.
“But you’re a guy.”
“So?”
“So it’s okay. The requirement is only for women.”
“What the fuck?”
He shrugs. “Just how it is. Society is harsh on women. You know that.”
I let my head fall back onto the thick cushion. Chandeliers hang from the high ceilings in the living room, one of them right over my position. It infuriates me that she’s being treated unfairly and that I had no idea all this time. I promised her I would ensure she wasn’t humiliated or hurt by our arrangement, and I failed to keep my word.