Instead of letting it affect us, we mixed and mingled with so many celebrities that I was awestruck. It seemed that everyone asked the same sort of questions: What are you working on now? Did you hear about this person or that person? Most of the conversations ended with enthusiastic promises of keeping in touch and “hope to work with you sometime” comments. It was hard to discern between true intentions and crafted bullshit, but I’d like to think I guessed accurately.
Ryan had just made a private comment to me when I saw Kyle storm through the crowd on a direct course for Lauren. Someone else had engaged Ryan in conversation and after being introduced, I kept part of my attention on watching Kyle and Lauren. Kyle was pissed. I could tell because I’d seen that face before. Lauren looked stubborn, planting a foot and crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.
Kyle reached for her but she rolled her shoulder away from his grasp. He apparently wasn’t going to take no for an answer, snatching her wrist and pulling her off balance so she had no choice but to follow him. He towed her along like an insolent puppy fighting the leash, and never looked back at her as she struggled.
As much as I was curious about their interactions, I was glad that he seemed to have found a new outlet for his misguided attentions.
Photographers surrounded us like hungry jackals as we hustled through LAX. My heart pounded in my chest from the chaos that ensued when we stepped into the terminal. Men were yelling, running sideways, aiming those nasty black cameras at us. So the famous Ryan Christensen was getting on another plane. Why is that even remotely newsworthy? Such nonsense. Ryan tugged his duffle bag up on his shoulder and grabbed my hand as Mike and three extra hired bodyguards moved us through the entrance. Two airport police officers flanked us, telling the paparazzi to mind the other passengers and to keep their distance.
We were ushered down a separate row to go through security and I nearly tripped over my own feet trying to walk as fast as possible. Ryan glanced back at me when I stumbled, then he stopped long enough to put my body in front of his.
“You okay?” he uttered quietly, walking his fingers over the small of my back as he nudged me along.
I nodded, slightly mortified by the prospect of having my little stumble be on the next episode of TMZ.
“This is fucking annoying,” Ryan growled to me privately under his breath.
I tried not to spy over his shoulder but the paparazzi were still taking photos and filming us as we came to a halt in the security line.
Ryan tapped Mike’s arm. “Why are we stopped?” We were standing in a special line but there were still like twenty people in front of us with a pack of rabid idiots forty feet behind us filming and photographing.
I heard a faint chime just as Ryan asked, “Is your cell ringing?” I thought I had turned it off, knowing it would have to be off for the flight. I didn’t recognize the number and considered ignoring it until thoughts of Pete being in the hospital crossed my mind.
“Is this Taryn? Taryn Mitchell?” the unfamiliar male voice asked hesitantly.
As quickly as the notion came, I pictured some obscure religious-message, flower-sending weirdo named Jerry or Jeremy calling me. I had the sudden urge to just hang up. “Who is this?”
“It’s ahh . . . Joe.”
I gasped from the slight shock.
“Joe Malone,” he continued, clearing his throat nervously. “Your um, father.”
Chapter 17
Reconnected
Ryan nodded his chin at me. “Who’s that?”
“Joe,” I whispered, both to answer Ryan and to assure my brain that I was actually talking to the man who fathered me. I had almost convinced myself that he’d never call.
Ryan pulled his sunglasses off, hooking them over the front of his T-shirt, and focused all of his attention on me. The man on the other end of my phone sounded close to tears as his breath stuttered in my ear. I knew how he felt; I wanted to cry with him.
“Yeah,” he choked. “Oh God. I, um . . . never thought I’d . . . that we’d . . . Oh God, I don’t even know where to begin. It’s been so long. Please, let me hear your voice. Say something. Anything.”
“I don’t know what to say. How are you?”
Joe laughed uncomfortably. “I’m good, sweetheart. I’m good. A little speechless right now, though.”
“Me too.”
It was hard to concentrate. Airport security officers were surrounding us, moving a section of the nylon barricades out of the way to usher us through into another pathway toward a TSA security agent.
Ryan nodded at me. “Tar, you’re going to have to call him back.”
I knew I needed to move, to get through security and away from the spying paparazzi, but my feet didn’t want to move. My hand gripped my phone tighter, fumbling through an awkward apology for our bad timing. Joe nervously chuckled in my ear, being quite understanding that I was not able to give him any more of my time at the moment while going through baggage scan.
As I stowed my cell away in my bag, sadness mixed with my elation. The most important part was that he reached out to make the first connection. That was a huge step.
Ryan pulled his shoes off, dropping them into a plastic bin. I slipped my purse from my shoulder and followed suit, hating with a passion this part of flying.
It wasn’t until we were in the air and getting served our first beverage that Ryan asked me about the call. “Talk to me. What did he have to say?”
It was hard to talk with several passengers blatantly gawking at us. “He mentioned getting together.”
Ryan’s expression said that’s good and is that something you want to do?
I answered his nonverbal question with “Yes. I need to.”
He squeezed my hand and gave me a resolute nod, assuring me that he’d make that happen.
“Oh my God, Taryn. I’m gonna choke her,” Marie announced loudly and in no uncertain terms into my ear. After spending a few hours on a plane, a forty-minute drive to the hotel, and a restless night’s sleep on a very stiff hotel mattress, I was not awake enough to understand her reasons. I set my coffee cup down and held my cell away and could still hear her clearly.
Ryan was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he took the silver lid off the omelet that room service had just delivered. We had slept in, since Ryan didn’t have to be anywhere until one o’clock.
“You know that girl Gary has been seeing? Well, I just found out that she’s a friend of Tammy’s.”
I winced as my stomach felt drop-kicked. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. I wish I was. I am so mad I can kill them both.”
“How did you find this out?”
Marie scoffed. “Because the whore is in your pub kitchen right now helping Tammy out, that’s how. I just came down to prep and stock and there she was, baking and shit like it’s no big deal. I cannot believe Tammy would do this to me! I thought we were friends, but friends don’t hook up their other friends with my scumbag soon-to-be-ex husband.”
I pulled the sheer curtain back, looking out at the gray skies over Vancouver, thinking about how quickly wonderful things can turn to shit.
“Did you say anything to her?”
Marie hemmed. “No. I thought she looked familiar, until it dawned on me how I knew her. She’d better stay the hell out of the pub, that’s all I have to say. She sets one foot in here and I swear to God I’m going to hammer-fist her. As a matter of fact, screw it. I’m going back there and giving both of those hags a piece of my mind.”
I could hear her on the move. “Wait a minute! Stop! I don’t think you want to do that.”
She groaned in anger. “Oh yeah, I do. She crossed the line by bringing her here. I’m gonna—”
“Wait.” I scrambled, watching Ryan saunter in his boxers over to the dining table. “I have a question first.”
She huffed. “What?”
“Boxers or briefs?”
“What?”
“Mike. Is he a boxers or a briefs guy
?”
Ryan’s eyes glared up over the top of his laptop screen while he chewed his breakfast. I held out a finger for him to hold on to that disapproving thought for a second—I had a point to make.
Marie sucked in some air. “Boxer briefs. Best invention ever. With that elastic band riding real low.”
She sighed a bit. “He’s got those Ken doll leg-hinge muscle-gap things going on. You know what I mean?
The V pockets?”
I’d just so happened to have been staring at my own set of amazing leg hinges, which disappeared like an arrow into his shorts, moments before. “Yes, I do.” Ryan smirked at me, apparently taking my dirty purr and hungry eyes for what they were worth.
“Thanks,” Marie whispered out, sounding a bit calmer. “I know you’re trying to calm me down but I still want to go back there and confront her. Bringing that girl here is not cool, Tar. I don’t care how you color it. Is she doing this to rub my nose in it? I mean, why?”
“I honestly don’t know, but I promise I’ll find out. Just swear to me you’ll stay out of the kitchen until I get to the bottom of it, okay?”
As soon as I hung up with Marie, I took a deep breath and scrolled down to Tammy’s number, knowing loyalties were about to be tested. Right off the bat she greeted me with a snarky snip to her voice, which didn’t bode well.
After getting a quick update on how Pete was doing, I got to the second purpose of my call.
“I don’t know how to ask this so I’m just going to come right out with it. I know you have someone there with you today, and I want to know if it’s the girl that Gary is seeing.”
Tammy sighed—loudly. “What difference does it make?”
Cocky was not the way to deal with me right now. “Are you kidding?”
“I have a business to run and I needed the help. What do you want me to say?”
If I could have climbed through my phone and shaken her, I would have. “And you didn’t think that this would be a problem? My God, Tammy. Are you that insensitive?”
“I’m not trying to be insensitive, Taryn. Pete is laid up, I’ve got orders to fill and a wedding to cater tomorrow, and I don’t see anyone else offering to help. You know with Pete out of work I’m the only one earning any money. And now we have hospital bills piling up and ambulance bills to pay. I’m sorry if that upsets people, but I had no other choice.”
Now I was rubbing my forehead. “And your only choice was to enlist the help of the girl who broke Marie’s marriage apart?”
Tammy growled. “Amy didn’t do that. Look, I don’t have time to talk about this now.”
I wanted to scream. “Fine. But I would prefer if you didn’t rub it in Marie’s face.”
“I’m not rubbing anything—”
“You brought her there, Tammy! Are you forgetting that Marie lives upstairs now because her cheating husband locked her out of her own damn house?”
I could hear her frustrated huff. “I didn’t think she’d care. She’s moved on with Ryan’s bodyguard, hasn’t she?”
“That’s not the point. No woman wants to see her replacement, Tammy. Ever.”
“Well, she’s going to have to get used to it sooner or later. I might as well tell you now that Pete and his brother, Jim, are not speaking to each other and Pete’s had it this time. He wants Gary to be his best man now, which means that I don’t have a maid of honor since my sister-in-law, Deb, was it. So I’ve asked Amy to be my maid of honor so Marie doesn’t have to feel obligated.”
“Unbelievable . . .”
“What? She said she didn’t want to come if Gary was going to be there anyway, so I don’t know what the big deal is.”
My anger bumped up to an entirely new notch.
“I thought Marie would be relieved since she’s busy running the bar now that you’re not around much,” Tammy said. “She doesn’t have time to help me anyway. Neither do you. You’re never home anymore.”
I didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out why she was being so pissy, but her tantrum was uncalled for.
“That’s a little unfair, Tammy.”
I heard what sounded like a metal tray hitting the floor at the same time Tammy said, “Oh, shit . . .
Marie, just wait a minute . . .”
I could hear Marie’s voice loud and clear. “It’s a simple question. I just want to know how long you’ve been fucking my husband, that’s all.”
Oh, shit was right. “Tammy, get your friend out of there.” I heard the girl, Amy, stuttering in the background, saying something about not knowing he was married when they met.
“Marie, he never told her he was married—”
“Don’t even fucking talk to me right now, Tammy. You mean to tell me your friend didn’t know he was married? You think I’m that naïve to believe that you didn’t have a hand in this?”
“I didn’t,” Tammy pleaded. “I didn’t know about it until after they’d met.”
“We went to L.A. together and you didn’t think to tell me that he was screwing around?”
I felt like I was in the middle of a war that was being broadcasted over cell phones. I felt completely incapable of fighting for the cause.
“It wasn’t my place to tell you that.”
What? Oh, bullshit.
Marie’s voice got even louder. Good. “Wasn’t your place? I thought we were friends, Tammy. Friends that have each other’s backs through the good, bad, and ugly. But I guess I was sadly mistaken.”
“I am your friend! You are blow—”
“Not anymore!” Marie shrieked. “And you . . . You even think about setting foot inside my pub and I will beat you to within an inch of your life. Understood?”
I heard the girl mumble something.
“Good. I hope you two are very happy together. He’s a cheap bastard and a lousy lay and he’s all yours.”
And that’s when Tammy hung up on me, leaving me rattled and riled and hanging in the wind three thousand miles away.
“I was afraid of this,” Ryan said, staring at his laptop while waiting on a call of his own.
I was clutching my cell, chewing on the edge of it, wondering when and how everything started falling apart. “Afraid of what?”
He glanced over the opened screen, then went back to doing what he was doing. “Friends. Fights.
Anger. Jealousy. All of that shit.”
I was scratching my head, trying to figure out what he meant.
“I didn’t think that it would happen, though. I mean, one of the reasons I even considered pursuing you and pulling you into my crazy life was because I saw how tight you were with your core friends. I didn’t think that they’d break their bonds once we started getting serious. Guess I was wrong.”
Either he was speaking man mumbo-jumbo or I was still dazed from my call and missing the point. I squinted at him. “Um. Huh?”
“The fighting. It’s started. I used to have a huge group of friends, but once the first movie came out, one by one they started dropping like flies. Things get fucked-up. Same shit is happening to you.”
Ryan squatted down in front of me and leveled his eyes on mine. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? My friends are fighting, Ryan, not us. I don’t know what you caught of that conversation, but I just found out that the new girl that Gary is seeing is one of Tammy’s friends, who just so happens to be in my pub kitchen helping Tammy out right now. Marie went down to open up and ran right into the girl.”
Ryan frowned. “I thought maybe . . . Friends get weird and shit when all of a sudden you have money and they don’t, you’re traveling and they aren’t. I just know that the petty shit comes to the surface and the next thing you know you’re fighting and at each other’s throats. So many people want fortune and fame but what they don’t realize is that it comes with a ton of heartache.”
I rested my taxed brain in my hand. “I still don’t get where you’re going with this. My friends are fighting—”
“And you
feel compelled to pick a side.”
“Well, yeah, to a certain extent. Especially when one is purposely causing hurt to the other. I’d take a stand regardless, and whether or not my future husband was über-famous shouldn’t be a factor.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Yeah, but what? You are who I’ve chosen to be with. If my friends have a problem with that—which I don’t think they do, but regardless—if they can’t be on board with my happiness and feel threatened by my choice, then they really aren’t good friends to begin with. And if they are jealous, then I’d hope they’d keep it to themselves, as I am certainly not flaunting anything under their noses. Tammy is under a lot of stress and she’s lashing out. I get that. We girls go crazy every now and then. I can even forgive her for keeping her nose out of other people’s marriage problems. But what I will not excuse is her knowing that her friend is banging another good friend’s husband and bringing that nonsense to my house.”
Ryan put his hands on his hips. “I love you.”
I smiled. “I know you do. I love you more.”
That earned me a trademarked lip smirk nose wrinkle. “You think Tammy hooked them up?”
I hated to think the worst of people, especially friends in my closest circle, but over the years I’d seen so many show me their dark side that I now knew even the sweetest, the kindest could turn horrid.
Speaking of people turning horrid, I was just about to shut the lid on Ryan’s laptop if I had to listen to another minute of his manager’s condescending bullshit during their online video conference.
I was having my own conversation with our publicist, Trish, over some changes to Ryan’s schedule when Ryan hammered his fist into the table.
“I lost forty-five grand in the last six months, so you can shove all of the ‘let Mercer handle that’
bullshit. Fucking people need a wake-up call that I am paying attention to my financial statements. If they are incapable of keeping me from losing money then I will find another firm to manage it.”