Love Unrehearsed (10 page)

Ryan and I were in mid-conversation with his
Reparation
co-star and onscreen love interest, Jenna Rayford, and Jonathan Follweiler and his wife, Anna, when out of nowhere Marla approached and barged into our circle, wearing that fake smile she so insidiously presents to the rest of the unknowing world.

“Jonathan!” she said warmly, giving him an air kiss. “So good to see you again.”

Ryan took a swig of beer from the bottle in his hand and looked away, making that little sucking sound through his teeth that he always does when he’s irritated. I squeezed his hand gently and contemplated our exit strategy. It didn’t take me long to come up with one.

“I’d like to talk with Kelly and Cal before they leave,” I said privately in his ear, spotting them sitting at a table. “Come with me?”

Ryan didn’t hesitate. We politely excused ourselves.

“Oh Ryan?” Marla called out, hurrying behind us. “I was wondering if we might speak.”

Damn, we weren’t quick enough.

Ryan stopped and groaned. “What?” he said sharply. “What do you want?”

“Oh, come now. Surely you’re not still sour with me? What happened earlier is in the past. I know you didn’t mean to say those awful things and I want you to know that I forgive you.”

Ryan scoffed. “You really are a piece of work, Marla. I can’t believe I’ve been so blind to you for all these years. Just so there’s no confusion, I meant what I said earlier. You are no longer my publicist.”

I was proud of him for sticking to his guns.

Marla’s head wiggled on her neck as she collected herself. I could clearly, as if looking through a piece of glass, see her coat the tip of her next sentence with poison.

“Let me remind you—if you choose to sever our relationship, you sever your interactions with my entire organization as well.”

“Fine,” Ryan said, unruffled. “I’m sure you’ll send me a bill.”

Marla’s lips twitched.
“Tricia,”
she bellowed towards the bar where Trish was hiding, secretly observing. Marla impatiently snapped her fingers. God, I hated that. I wanted to snap her bony fingers like twigs.

“Tricia,” she said with a forced grin, “Mr. Christensen has foolishly decided to terminate his contract with Brown and Sullivan. I can’t help but feel as though you had something to do with this.”

Trish instantly appeared mortified and shook her head in denial.

“Well, in any case, it doesn’t much matter anymore. I gave you specific instructions earlier and you chose to defy them. I cannot have my employees thinking they can undermine my decisions.”

“Marla, I thought you would want me to—” Trish tried to explain.

Marla cut her off with a flutter of her hand. “As I said dear, it doesn’t matter. Your employment with Brown and Sullivan is hereby terminated, effective immediately. You can contact HR to arrange picking up your personal things on Monday. Give me your security badge.” Marla held out her hand.

I felt the shock hit my chest and creep up my throat. The very last thing I wanted to happen was playing out in front of me. I wasn’t sure if Ryan was completely serious when he offered her a job.

“You’re firing me?” Trish asked. Shock and anguish made her lip quiver.

Marla smirked. “You are quick,” she said condescendingly. “Perhaps you won’t be so underhanded in your next job.”

Trish’s hand trembled as she dug in her clutch purse. I wanted to hug her and scream a few obscenities at Marla for being such a royal bitch. Man, she was cold.

Ryan rubbed his forehead. “Look, if you’re pissed-off at me—fine—but don’t take it out on her.”

Marla crossed her arms and planted a high-heel-clad foot. “I don’t see how any of this concerns you.” She snapped her fingers for Trish to speed it up. “She disobeyed my orders.”

“And I overrode them!” Ryan stressed. “I asked her to stay.”

“And here I thought you could survive without my services,” Marla snidely returned, flitting her eyes. Trish handed a card attached to a chain to Marla and sniffed back some tears.

My emotions swirled furiously. Anger, denial, hatred, and guilt raced through my thoughts, each trying to dominate. Ryan was speechless, searching for a good comeback that failed to surface.

I had to do something.

“Um, Ryan? I believe Trish is now a free agent,” I stated. “And she is more than qualified to handle your PR.” I gave him one of our private signals, darting my eyes at Marla briefly and scratching my chin, conveying the message that he should tell her to go to hell. His eyes brightened and he nodded.

“Yes . . . yes she is,” Ryan confirmed.

“And you just so happen to be looking for new representation.”
That’s right, honey. Tell her off.
Marla could shove it deep where the sun doesn’t shine. We might not be able to save Trish completely, but I was going to make damn sure she at least walked away with her dignity.

“We’re done here, right?” he asked Marla, dismissing her as if she were no longer of importance.

It was extremely enjoyable to watch Marla’s face crumble in defeat. How I wished I could have videotaped it so we could watch it over and over again for laughs.

Ryan clutched my hand in his and glanced at his empty beer bottle. “What do you say, ladies—time to discuss Trish’s new salary over a few shots of tequila? That is if you want to work for me.”

Trish grinned from ear to ear. “Hell yeah!” she said enthusiastically.

“You can’t do that,” Marla said with failed authority.

Ryan smirked at her. “Watch me.”

After two hours of schmoozing with people I didn’t know, I felt awful for not paying any attention to my friends. I searched the room for them, only to notice that one of my friends was sitting at an empty table.

“Hey, why are you sitting here all by yourself?” I asked Pete. I sat down in the chair next to him.

Pete looked confused. “I’m not alone. Gary just went to the men’s room.”

“Oh. Where are the girls?” I looked around for Marie and Tammy.

Pete pointed to a far corner. “They’re over there yappin’. Gary is really pissed that Marie keeps touching that guy in the black shirt. You might want to say something to her before it gets ugly. He’s kind of drunk.”

I looked over and saw my two best friends laughing heartily with a group of people. I didn’t know who the guy was, but he had short-cropped brown hair and looked like a male model from this distance. I hadn’t been able to spend much time with my friends since we arrived, but I did notice Gary sitting at this table, scowling all night.

“I’ll take care of it—in a minute.” I craned my neck to get a better view. “That’s Marcia Gay Harden on Tammy’s left. She played the principal, remember?”

Pete nodded but I could tell that he really didn’t care. He wasn’t impressed by celebrities unless they were wearing football or baseball uniforms. He actually looked tired and ready for bed. I could relate.

“Where’s Ryan?”

I nodded in his general direction. “Over there. He’s talking to Edward Zwick.” Pete looked lost. “The director?”

“Ooh, he’s talking to the director,” Pete said in a teasing tone, like the simple fact that my fiancé was holding court with the who’s-who of Hollywood was no biggie. Pete’s face turned serious. “Are you sure you’re up for all of this?” His eyes bore into mine, trying to read me.

I chewed on my lip as I pondered his question. The room was so full of wealth and pretentiousness, we were both feeling out of place.

“I know what you’re trying to say, but all of this really isn’t
Ryan,
either. He’s uncomfortable with this, too, you know.”

Pete nodded, mostly agreeing with me.

“Besides, maybe all of this is who I’m supposed to be. I’ve just been going through the motions for so long now, running the bar out of—out of guilt.” I huffed. “If my dad were still alive, I’d probably be sitting behind some desk in Manhattan being completely miserable instead of being here.”

“Yeah,” Pete concurred. “Probably. Although you could have had your own fame, you know.”

A tiny “gah” sound squeaked out. “Yeah right.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Taryn. You know damn well I speak the truth. But instead of trying to model, you let those idiots in school make you feel unworthy.”

Memories of being singled out and bullied, enduring relentless taunting because I had bigger boobs than most and had a chubby boy for a best friend, weren’t things I wanted to think about right now. Even Marie and Melanie questioned why I stuck around with Pete so much back then. But none of their opinions mattered more than what Pete had mattered to me. He was the only person who came to my rescue when Emily Howard pushed me down on the playground on the first day of school, and for years he was the brother I’d never had.

By the time we reached high school, Pete slimmed down, grew taller, and joined the wrestling team, but one thing remained the same—he always had my back. He was and still is my best friend.

Pete waved a finger around. “Over two dozen heads turned when you walked over here. I’m surprised you didn’t trip over a few drooling tongues along the way. I was afraid I’d have to kick some ass to fend them off.”

“Shut up.”

“No, you shut up!”

Pete seemed amused. “I think that’s what I love the most about you, kid. You’re the most self-deprecating person I know, even though you have absolutely no reason to be.”

I winced. How absurd. “Everyone’s just curious to see who was able to capture Ryan’s attention, that’s all.”

“See? You can’t even take a compliment about not being able to take compliments. You’ve always been an enigma, Ms. Mitchell. A complete contradiction.”

I bristled with fake horror. “Did you just call me an enema?”

“Yep. You’re a total pain in my ass.”

I laughed at our banter. We had always had this easy friendship, even lasting while he was madly in love with Melanie, the sister of my ex, Thomas. Throughout the years I often pretended Pete and I were really brother and sister, separated by a tragic mix-up in the hospital. He was always there for me no matter what, watching over me like a brother should.

Something caught his eye. “Ryan is a good man . . . a
real
good man, Taryn. I’m glad everything worked out. You finally picked one that doesn’t trigger my urge to bash his head in.”

I smirked at his lording. “Thanks.” It warmed my heart to know that Pete and Ryan had a lot of respect for each other.

The niggling memory of just seven days ago, when I thought Ryan’s parents had come to move him out of the apartment, crept back into my thoughts. “I just wish one of you would have told me what was going on.”

Pete’s attention averted to his drink but it was time we had this talk. “I almost did. I came close to spilling the beans a few times. I couldn’t stand seeing you in so much pain. Just know . . . it killed me.”

“So why didn’t you?”

He swirled the ice in his glass, hesitating. “Truth? Because I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if Ryan would actually do it or not. I mean, he told us he was going to. Hell, he even asked us all for our blessing. But then you two were touch-and-go there for a few days and . . .”

He straightened up and looked me in the eyes. “If we would have told you he was going to propose and then he didn’t . . . God . . . I just couldn’t do that to you, Taryn.”

I rubbed my hand gently, briefly over his shoulder, trying to alleviate his obvious remorse. “I understand. I . . . I just feel like such an idiot, carrying on the way I did. Seeing him kiss Lauren in that restaurant and that freakin’ note . . . it was so convincing. I know I should have never doubted him, but standing there watching it, it was like reliving the Thomas nightmare all over again. Only this time, it hurt a million times worse.”

Pete’s lips curled into a familiar, sympathetic smile.

“I know what you’re going to say next,” I interjected, reading the rest of Pete’s expression. “I have to put that all behind me now and never allow myself to get that low again.”

“Yep,” he confirmed with a smirk. “But what you also have to keep in mind is that this time around, you’re with a guy who’s totally in love with you.”

I didn’t need to be an interpreter to catch Pete’s allusion. Despite his contrary actions and Pete’s opinion, Thomas did love me. He even said it to me out loud once. He just didn’t know how to show it all the time.

Pete glanced over in Ryan’s direction. “I mean, just look at him. He’s got all sorts of women hovering around him but he never acknowledges them—ever. He’s been like that since the first day he walked into your pub. Like you are the only woman on the planet. And the funny thing is, no matter where you are in the room, Ryan knows exactly where you are. He may be talking to somebody rich and famous but he’s
always
got one eye trained on you. That poor bastard. He’s such a goner.”

I rolled my eyes at his teasing.

“Speaking of goners . . . before I forget, Tammy has been bugging me. You know we still have a little problem with the wedding and who you’re going to be partnered with. I didn’t want to ask my cousin in case you wanted Ryan but . . . do you want me to ask Ryan?”

“Ask me what?”