A Hollywood Deal (Ryder & Paige 1)

Huh. She hasn’t had time to start forwarding her mail. I get up and snatch a letter off the pile.

You bitch! You ruined everything. How dare you. You aren’t even that hot, you fat cow!

I stare at the neat typing. I don’t know the font name or anything like that, but I recognize the professional look. It’s the kind that people use for their résumés. Predictably, the perp didn’t sign her name.

Paige reaches over and takes it from my hand. “I told you, they aren’t for you. I’m taking care of them.”

“Jesus. What the hell is this? How many of these things did you get?”

“A few. They were in boxes, left at the gates.”

My chest feels tight and hot. I tug at the neckline of my shirt. “Want to find out who did it and sue the hell out of them?”

“Why?”

“To make an example.”

“Forget it.” She waves my offer away. “It’ll die down soon enough. I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not.”

She peers at me over her glasses. “Haven’t you heard of the Streisand Effect?”

“Uh…vaguely.”

“Publicizing something like this would only encourage people who’re thinking about doing it but haven’t done it yet. And some would do it just to copycat.” She shrugs. “I’ve been dealing with crazy mail on your behalf for years. I can handle it.”

I don’t like this. Paige was going to become a target of the media; that was inevitable. I knew it, and I planned ways to mitigate their tactics. But this is something entirely new and unexpected. My fans sending hate mail to her?

The original Brother Grimm’s version of Cinderella runs through my mind. I read it to prepare for the Cinderella retelling I starred in. The stepsisters cut off parts of their feet to fit into the slipper because that’s just how desperate they were.

Of course they failed. Prince Charming wasn’t going to be fooled by that kind of trickery. Cinderella’s doves plucked out the sisters’ eyeballs at the wedding as punishment. Frankly, I prefer that ending to the saccharine one in the script…but the director disagreed.

“Fucking stepsisters,” I mutter under my breath.

“What?” Paige says.

“Nothing. Just file them somewhere and let’s go. We have a meeting.”

“We do?” She checks the schedule. “You have nothing for the day except an hour of kickboxing later.”

“That was before. We need to see a lawyer about our prenup.”

Chapter Eighteen

Paige

Our prenup.

It seems to make the marriage even more real. I knew this was coming. A man like Ryder doesn’t marry without one, even if his intended is an heiress with billions in her bank account.

And I have nothing. So it’s only prudent that he protect himself.

My skin prickles during the elevator ride to the lawyer’s office. The heat in Ryder’s eyes earlier in the morning threw me off, and I felt desire unfurl inside me. I had to pretend to drink tea to buy some time to compose myself.

But all that work gets undone as Ryder stands close, his scent alluring. I want to pretend this is nothing, that I feel nothing.

I clench my thighs together.