Page 116 of Secrets (The Sins Trilogy 2)
Chapter Forty-Four
Anthony
My office is dark. The blinds are down, and the lights are off, except for the small lamp on my desk.
It’s Friday, and Iris is still gone, not a word from her one way or the other. I only have a single text from Yuna.
Iris didn’t sleep well last night. Actually, I’m not sure if she slept at all. Her appetite was meh, and she didn’t eat much breakfast.
I read it over and over again, hoping I can penetrate the surface to something deeper underneath. Yuna said Iris was sleeping and eating better earlier this week. Why is she backsliding now? Is she remembering what happened last Friday? Still sorting through it?
My desk phone beeps. It’s Wei. “Would you like me to make a room reservation for tonight?”
TJ must have told Wei about my not going home yesterday. I couldn’t bear to be in the place without Iris. It didn’t used to be so big and cold, but now, it’s about as inviting as an industrial meat locker. So when I saw a hotel on the way, I asked TJ to stop and spent the night there.
When I don’t answer, Wei clears his throat. “Boss, there’s something else, too. You have an invitation from Ryder Reed. A private dinner at his Hollywood mansion with him and his wife.”
That one’s easy. “Not going.” Even though I’ve forgiven him, the sight of him and his wife is going to be too much. According to the latest trashy gossip, he’s upset the baby isn’t pretty enough to be his, and he’s going to divorce her for it. But I know the truth. He worships the ground she walks on, and she adores him. The public’s upset with the tabloids for dragging a baby into it. “Get me a room at the Ritz,” I add.
“Got it.” Wei hesitates. “Just so you know, his people met with Iris yesterday at the foundation. So he could’ve heard something.”
“Well, then for fuck’s sake, obviously I should go!” What the hell happened to Wei that he keeps the most important thing for last?
“Okay. I’ll let him know.”
“Wait!”
“Boss?”
“Sorry, Wei. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“It’s okay.” He doesn’t say more, but there is a pregnant silence. I’m worried about your mental state. You haven’t been yourself.
I text TJ to bring the car around. There are a couple of glossy bags, one blue and one pink, in the Cullinan. “What are those?”
“Gifts for Ryder and Paige. Wei got them,” TJ says.
I glance inside. A bottle of a pricey red, some flowers and a frilly stuffed animal toy. Those should do.
“You sure this is a good idea?” TJ asks.
“It is the best damn idea I have for the evening.” Maybe Ryder will say something about Iris. He’s close to Elizabeth, so he could’ve gone to the foundation himself yesterday. Iris might’ve told him something. His pretty face has the power to make women reveal way more than they should. Maybe I should use him as my spy, since Bobbi won’t do it.
Ryder’s place is more like a fortress than the typical fancy mansion you see on TV. Unlike Sam’s frilly so-called security, it has sturdy, functional gates designed to keep intruders out. The thick gray concrete walls are tall, with barbed wire and security cameras on top. He installed those after some psychopath stalker fans tried to sneak into his bed and other ridiculous escapades. The only thing he needs to complete the “keep out, assholes” vibe is a machine gun nest.
When TJ identifies himself and me, the gates open, revealing a perfect slice of SoCal paradise. Colorful flowers bloom in the lush garden. Green shrubs have been recently shaped and trimmed. A huge swimming pool sparkles like a man-made lake off to one side. Normally, there wouldn’t be anything around it except lounging chairs and umbrellas, but now, it sports a four-foot-tall fence to keep the baby out. The mansion at the end of the driveway is gigantic, with columns and double doors. Even though Ryder’s mother comes from old money, the place looks like nothing but new money. It makes sense; he didn’t take a penny from his parents. The money he’s made is all from his looks and some shrewd investments.
I step out of my car and walk up the steps. Before I can ring the bell, the double doors open, and Ryder comes out, dressed casually in a polo shirt and shorts, his feet bare. “Hey, ma—” He stops abruptly, his gaze raking me from top to bottom. “Holy shit. Did you catch the flu or something?”
I’d laugh if I didn’t felt so terrible inside. “Do I look that bad?”
He nods.
“I’m not contagious, if that’s what you’re asking,” I say, trying to put his mind at ease, especially with the baby at home.
“I wasn’t,” he says, recovering. “You just look like shit. Well, come on in. And invite your driver in, too.”
I hold out the bags Wei prepared. “For you, Paige, and the baby.”
