Page 125 of Secrets (The Sins Trilogy 2)
Chapter Forty-Seven
Anthony
After dinner, I leave Ryder to entertain the women and go out on the deck for some peace and quiet. My eyes started glazing over when Yuna brought up engagement party favors, and Julie decided they should be fun and eclectic and unique. They want the event to be one for the ages. I shudder. That’s the last thing I need when there’s a killer out there I know nothing about.
All I want to do is marry Iris. That’s it. But at the rate things are going, I’m going to have to participate in all sorts of parties and other junk. I’m only indulging Yuna and Julie because Iris looks so happy, and Yuna repeatedly made the point that Iris is getting married only once, so I owe it to her to ensure it’s something she never, ever forgets. And it’s true. Iris does deserve to have some joyful new memories to make up for all the ones she’s lost. I’m going to make sure that this time, she won’t lose any of them.
The door opens and closes, and I sense Ryder’s presence. “Got tired of listening to the menu?”
“Yeah. I said fun, not food. They’re acting like they’ve never eaten shrimp before.”
Just like him to complain about that. But when he has parties, he has a team to manage the details. He just shows up.
“You okay?”
I shrug, then blow out a breath. Here I thought I was doing a good job of hiding how I’m really feeling about the engagement party. “Do I look that bad?”
“Nah, you’re doing all right. But you’re no actor, and I’ve known you for a long time.”
“I don’t like the party idea,” I say. “If it were up to me, I’d cancel, but…” I have no idea how I got myself in this jam. This is not how I envisioned my proposal to engagement to…post-engagement stuff.
“Then cancel. You’re the other half of the couple.”
“I owe Yuna one.” Actually more than one, for not only taking care of Iris but keeping the secret. “And look at Iris. She’s thrilled.”
“The shit we put up with for our women.” Ryder clasps my shoulder. “You’ll survive. It really isn’t that bad. All you have to do is smile and look happy, which shouldn’t be too hard. Besides, the girls might not even find a suitable venue.”
“It’s not the venue. It’s the security.” Anxiety keeps pushing all my buttons. “Parties like this get picked up by bored ‘journalists’ all the time. Headlines pop, and people notice.” Sam flipped out over the videos that went viral. The last thing I need is him losing it and making a scene, humiliating Iris. Or for the real villain from nine years ago to realize she survived the crash and come back.
“Eh, what can you do? Comes with the territory.” Ryder looks out over the city contemplatively. “Money. Connections. Fame.”
“The killer from Tempérane is still out there. Somewhere.” I hate that I still don’t know who it is and where he or she might be. Jill is working too damn slow for my taste. “What if they come back to finish the job when they realize Iris is alive?”
Ryder’s eyes are alert now. “You really think she was the target?”
“I don’t know. But even if she wasn’t, she’s a witness. If I were the killer, I would want her permanently silenced.”
He rubs his jaw. “Shit.”
Frustration and stress stick into me like a hot poker. A hotel is going to be way too open. I can’t not invite Ryder, and that means party crashers. It’ll be hard for Bobbi to guard Iris.
“I got a solution. A big scandal right before the party. Nobody’ll care about your event.” Then he adds quickly, “In a good way. You know.”
I almost roll my eyes. In Hollywood, nobody giving a shit is probably worse than some faceless assassin trying to kill you. I’m tempted to take him up on his offer, but I know better. “I can’t let you do that. You gotta think about your wife.” I don’t want her to suffer on my account.
“What about it?” Ryder’s face clears. “Oh, you think I’m offering to star in this one?” He guffaws. “Please. I don’t do low-budget scandals. It’s Hollywood. Scandals are dime a dozen and cheap to produce. Just leave it to me. I’ll give you a scandal so bad, it’ll overshadow everything short of an alien landing. And if you’re worried about hotel security, I’ll host it at my place. Nobody can crash it.”
It’s true. Ryder’s place is like a reverse prison. You can’t go in. Not without an invitation. “That would be great. Thanks.”
“What are friends for?”
I give him a faint smile. But I can’t shake off the unease in my gut.
