A Hollywood Deal (Ryder & Paige 1)

Bethany looks good. She’s positively glowing, although she isn’t showing yet. Unlike me, nobody’s bankrolling her outfit, so she’s in a modest black top and pants, plus a pair of red Converse. I, on the other hand, in my scarlet Chanel get-up, feel grossly overdressed.

She gives me one of her soul-warming hugs and takes my hand to check out my ring. “Oh my god, it’s gorgeous! Just lovely.” She gawks, turning the band this way and that.

“Thanks,” I say with a blush. I feel like a total fraud, but I can’t let her know.

“You have to tell me everything,” she says. “I can’t believe you never said a word, not even when you came to my house for my big announcement! And you accused me of withholding stuff in texts!”

I cringe.

“When did all this happen?” Bethany demands.

I take a long swallow of my ginger ale. “You saw the news. That’s when.”

“What about your other boyfriend?”

“It’s a long story, but we broke up.”

“How come you never said a word?”

“Because.” I keep my voice light and just slightly tart. “It’s pathetic to whine about my crappy love life to my sister, who has the love life of a romance novel heroine.”

“Oh for—! You got Ryder. Ryder Reed!”

“Wanna trade?” I joke.

“No way! Oliver’s the only man for me.” She leans closer. “That’s how you feel about Ryder, too, right?”

I swallow. My stepsister, always worried about me. “Of course.”

“Then that’s all that matters. I hope he makes you happy.”

“He does.” I smile for her benefit, then sigh. “He also makes me exhausted.”

Her hand flies to her mouth and her eyes dart around. “I can’t believe you sa

id that here…!”

I burst out laughing. “Get your mind out of the gutter! I mean all the shopping and wedding plans.”

“Oh. Well…that’s what happens when you have a month to plan a wedding to Hollywood royalty.”

The hostess comes and tells us our table is ready. Bethany hooks her arm in mine as we get up. “You hungry?”

“Oh my god. Starving.”

Our table turns out to be a private booth in the back. I’m grateful; the last thing I want is to have my photos plastered everywhere. I know I’m a “person of interest” right now, but I have no intention of rolling over and giving up my privacy without a fight.

I glance at the menu briefly. When the waitress comes over, I ask for a cheeseburger and fries plus a glass of fully caffeinated, sugary Coca-Cola Classic. I don’t care how many calories, carbs and fat are in my lunch. I deserve it after the way this week’s gone.

I look to see if my order shocks her, but the waitress is professionally uninterested. Bethany orders the same except she substitutes OJ for the drink.

“So how’s the wedding thing going?” Bethany asks.

“I have no idea. We have a planner—supposed to be very good—who’s doing most of the work. Ryder’s bearing the entire cost since he wants the grandest event of the year.”

“Won’t that be hard to manage with his cousin’s just a few weeks ago? I saw photos, and it looked incredible.”

“Yeah. But I don’t think he cares.”