“I’ll leave you two alone to talk business,” Elliot says with a loopy grin. “Call if you need anything. I have plenty more scotch…some vodka too.” He wags his fingers and goes into his bedroom.
She crosses her arms and stands hipshot, looking down at me. “You asked to talk to me as soon as I was back in town, and now you ignore my calls because you’re too busy drinking. Not even Paige knows where you are—or maybe she just said that because she didn’t want to tell me the truth.”
The mention of Paige triggers something inside me. It’s as though Mira’s hit a detonation switch. “Don’t talk about my fiancée,” I grind out.
“Oh for god’s sake.” She throws her hands up. “What the hell has she done now?”
“You are my agent, not my mother. You should’ve stayed the fuck out of Bethany’s business. And you should’ve never threatened Renni!” My voice rises. “She’s your client!”
Mira’s lips curl in distaste. “A client I took on so Paige would do the right thing and marry you for a year. I wouldn’t have accepted her otherwise. She’s pretty enough and has some talent, but she isn’t that special. She won’t amount to anything.”
“You don’t know that. Have you even tried to get her any roles?”
“No. Because it’s all going to end in a year. So who cares?” Mira frowns. “Is this why you wanted to see me? To check on how much I’m doing for her?”
I start to shake my head, but it hurts. Shit. If I’d known I’d be confronting my agent, I wouldn’t have drunk so much. “Did you tell the DA that I was going to let it go when I made it clear I wanted that nurse prosecuted?”
“Yes, and it’s for your own good. If we go after her, people are going to start talking about why you were at the hospital—and the fact that Paige released her sex tape right around that time would never die its natural death. Do you really want that attached to your name for years?” She stalks over to the kitchen and gets a glass of water. “Here. Drink this and sober up.”
I take the glass. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
“What?”
“Cleaned up after me to manage my image.”
“It’s part of my job. Talent has to be managed. Nurtured…cultivated. Nobody becomes a star without careful planning. And you’re golden, Ryder. You’re young, handsome, rich and from a good family. You’re wild and bad, but you also do good things like those charities you sponsor. Problem is, young men with looks and fame tend to do stupid things, especially where women are involved.”
I stare at her. Memories of how Mira and Lauren used to whisper between themselves flood through my mind. “Like Lauren,” I say.
Mira looks away, but not before I catch the slight shift in her expression.
“I remember you two used to talk to each other all the time.”
“Lauren.” She shakes her head. “She wanted me to be her agent. Even though I told her it wasn’t a good idea. My loyalty was—is—to you. And I wasn’t going to ruin my reputation by shilling her to casting directors just because she was sleeping with you.”
“But there was more, wasn’t there? She went to every party you were invited to.” Even through the alcohol, I’m not completely stupid. “What did you promise her?”
Mira shrugs. “I told her I’d introduce her to some people. And I did. Half the trick is networking.”
“You mean like coke-snorting stars and wannabes?”
“I had no idea she was using. And if she was, it has nothing to do with me. I’d never condone anything like that.”
Right. And I was born yesterday. “You made sure Lauren would go down a destructive path. It wouldn’t be that difficult if you put your mind to it. People who are desperate to be discovered will do anything, follow any fucked up piece of advice, if they believe it’ll give them an edge. And you were a big name agent even then.”
“You’re out of line, Ryder. I never held her down and pushed powder up her nose.”
“No. You just made sure she met the wrong crowd.” Pain sears through me. “But Paige can’t be manipulated that way. So you chose a different method this time.”
“Oh for god’s sake. What does it matter?”
“It matters because the wedding’s off.”
Mira stares at me. “What?”
“I’m going to make an announcement.”
“Seriously?” She curses. “Okay, let me see the statement before you say anything. We have to make sure you’re ditching her. The tape gives us the perfect excuse.”
“No, it doesn’t. She called it off because I’m not someone she can see a long-term future with.”
A breath hisses out of her. “She wouldn’t dare.”
“Why not? Are you going to pull the funding from her stepsister’s company? Make sure to release another psycho from prison, so they can run one of her family or friends over? How about Renni? You going to make sure she pays, too?”
“None of that will happen if Paige behaves. It’s only a year, Ryder.”
“Why do you have something named The Reed Trust?”
“I don’t know what you’re talk—.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!”
She sighs. “All right. Yes. I have a trust for each major client. It makes it easier for me to keep track of what I’m doing for them. But I’ve never used it for anything that could come back and reflect poorly on you.”
“You’re such a piece of work. If I’d known what a barracuda you are, I would’ve never signed with you.” I take a take a deep breath, but the vise around my chest still tightens. “You have no respect for me or my personal life.”
“You have no personal life!” She slaps her hands together in irritation. “You are a fucking superstar!”
I sit back. Of course. That’s what all this is about—Mira wanting to ensure that I’m one hundred percent hers. Not in a romantic sense. She’s not minded that way, plus romance requires one to have a heart. But she can ensure I’m always alone, or surrounded only by people she approves of, so that I’ll always be on a path that leads me back to her.
My voice is quiet when I tell her, “Then I’ll stop being a fucking superstar.”
She snorts. “Don’t be an idiot. You can’t do that.”
“Sure I can. I don’t have to work to get by. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with.” I bare my teeth. “Oh, and Mira? You’re fired.”
Her chest shudders, and she purses her lips so tight, countless small lines form around them. “You’re drunk. Drink that water, go sober up, and when you’re thinking right again we’re going to pretend this talk never happened.” She turns and heads toward the door.
“No, we aren’t.” I look at the only agent I’ve ever had with anger and regret. Anger wins. “If you come near me, Paige or anybody either of us cares about ever again, I’m going to slap you with a restraining order so fast it’ll take your breath away. And then I’ll have fun watching you try to spin that to protect your image.”