When You Were Mine (Adams Sisters)

by Byrd, Adrianne

  “Well.” A sinister smile slithered across Michaels’s raspberry-tinted lips. “I, sort of, helped Joey with a little revenge last week at the good doctor’s residence.”

  “You didn’t!” The small family clan chimed.

  “I did,” Michael assured them triumphantly. “Joey was at home sobbing her eyes out and overdosing on ice cream when she called me. So--” she shrugged “--I helped her.”

  “And what happened?” Peyton braced herself for the worst.

  “We were arrested.”

  “What?” They all thundered.

  The group gasped and stared open-mouthed at her.

  “It was all worth it, if you ask me. You don’t mess with an Adams!”

  “You need psychiatric help,” Flex said, shaking his head. “I’ve always said that.”

  “Whatever.” Michael waved him off. “She asked for help and I helped her. And here we are again--helping her.”

  He nodded and then slipped into a brief reverie. “You know, I think I’ve changed my mind about this.”

  “What?” The girls turned toward him.

  Flex chuckled under his breath and slipped his carry-on bag over his shoulder. “If I go through with this then I’m just part of the madness. Dad is right. Joseph is a grown woman more than capable of handling her own problems.”

  Michael face blazed with incredulity. “So you’re just going to stand back and let her mess up her life?”

  “The point is--it’s her life.” He stepped toward Michael and probed her heated gaze. “You know I’ll do anything for you girls. Anything legal. If Joey wanted our help, she knows how to ask for it. And that goes for you, too. If you want to talk about it, I’m here.” With that, he strolled away from the gate.

  His sisters watched his departure with open mouths.

  “Can you believe him?” Michael hissed incredulously. When Frankie and Peyton didn’t answer, her neck swiveled in their direction. “Well?”

  “Actually, I think he has a point,” Peyton croaked, and then shifted on her feet.

  “It is Joey’s life,” Frankie acquiesced. “She should be free to make her own mistakes.”

  “What?” Michael stared at them as though she’d never seen them before.

  “C’mon, Mike,” Peyton pleaded. “The girl is thirty-five going on eighteen the way we baby her--and she’s not even the baby. Look how much damage we did with Francis last year.”

  “We? Francis brought that crap down on himself when he lied about dating your husband.”

  “But you were the one who ambushed him with a reunion with Morgan,” Frankie said.

  “Hey, hey.” Peyton noticed the weird stares they were getting. “Lower your voices.” When her sister’s settled down, Peyton also slung her carry-on bag over her shoulder. “I’ve changed my mind.”

  Frankie picked up her bag. “Me, too.”

  “Whoa, Whoa.” Michael panicked at being ousted as ringleader. “Just yesterday, you guys thought this was a great idea.”

  “It was,” Frankie attempted to placate Michael’s ire. “But today, this is a better idea. We know Joey went to Italy. We all have a feeling on how this is going to turn out. If we go rescue her with our capes billowing in the wind, there is a good chance Joey will resent us.”

  “Sort of like I did after I divorce Ricky,” Peyton said.

  “You got over it,” Michael chirped with a shrug.

  “Not really,” Peyton said honestly. “Yes you told me not to marry Ricky, yes, you kept telling me how ‘no good’ he was while I was married, and yes, you chanted, ‘I told you so’ after the divorce. But it shouldn’t have gone down like that.”

  “You’re making it sound like I’m the bad guy here.”

  “No, I’m just saying it’s time we learned from our mistakes. Let Joey do what she has to do. If it turns out badly, let’s just be her shoulder to cry on¾if that’s what she needs.” When Michael failed to respond, Peyton hugged her and walked away.

  Frankie followed suit.

  “Continental Airlines is now boarding flight 886 for Milan, Italy at gate sixty-five.”

  Alone, Michael groaned and plopped down into a hard, plastic chair. Tears brimmed before she had a chance to think to stop them. Her mutinous siblings had deserted her¾just as her husband had six months ago.

  Michael cupped her face into her hands and wept.

  Chapter 18

  Zach had heard some wild things in his lifetime, but as he sat listening to his buddy, Ryan, in the director’s chair, he was certain that he’d finally heard it all. “That makes absolutely no sense,” he declared.

  Ryan chuckled good-naturally and turned to his gaze to watch the stage crew work their magic on a quaint Milan villa. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “You’re not on some kind of drug, are you?”

  “Zach--”

  “I mean, you could tell me if you were. I know how to keep a secret.”

  “No drugs.” He smiled. “I’m just a man on a mission.”

  “But why?” Zach frowned, thinking of the woman Ryan dragged in from the streets. “Seems like an awful lot trouble for...that type of girl.”

  Ryan’s smile quickly turned into a scowl. “And what type is that?”

  Zach shrugged but didn’t know how else to say this, “The ordinary type--the dirty, ordinary type.”

  In a flash, Ryan’s smile and good humor returned. “Believe me. She cleans up good.”

  Zach had a hard time imagining that. “Whatever, man. I guess I should be happy to see you back into the game. Like I said, I was worried about you there for a minute.

  “Mr. Donovan?”

  Ryan turned to his new set assistant, Belladonna Capri.

  “The team is ready for the storyboard meeting,” she informed him.

  “Right. I’m on my way.” He stood from his chair, but turned toward Zach. “Do me a favor. Carlina and her new fiancé are staying at our hotel. See if you can finesse the concierge into telling you what their dinner plans are and then book reservations for Joey and me. You might even want to get yourself a table. You don’t want to miss the fireworks I have planned for this evening.”

  Zach eyed his friend with measured curiosity. “All right. I like a good show as well as the next guy. I’ll see what I can do.” He turned to leave.

  “Oh, wait.” Ryan stopped him. “There’s one more thing.”

  #

  Joey felt as though she was living someone else’s life. Part one of Ryan’s mysterious plan, the only part he’d told her about, was for her to buy some new clothes. Penniless, but proud, Joey protested the suggestion because there was no way she could afford to pay him back. She was already indebted to Frankie for the airline ticket, not counting that she still needed to find away to pay for a ticket home.

  Yet, Ryan quickly pointed out that she couldn’t think to woo Laurence back in her current and only attire. She reluctantly agreed to the new clothes. However, she was unprepared when a personal shopper was appointed to her and a slew of clothes was delivered to the presidential suite. There were some designers she recognized from Frankie’s closet and some she had only read about in fashion magazines.

  Ryan was spending a fortune, and Joey was feeling nauseous.

  Sergio, her personal shopper, pretended or refused to tell her how much anything cost so she did the only thing she could think of: pretend not to like anything. Of course that only worked until Sergio divulge a small tidbit.

  “That dress looks so much better on you than Carlina Leoni.”

  Joey froze as she stared at her reflection. The white floor-length gown was adorned with beaded crystals around the collar and waist. The only flaw was that there no back to the damn thing. She could catch her death in it.

  “Carlina bought this dress?”

  “No. No,” he said in an accent nearly too thick to understand. “She wanted to, but with those bodacious tatas...” He smiled. “Let’s just say not everyone can wear Prada.”


  She twirled before the mirror again, this time paying particular attention on how elegantly the dress hugged her body.

  “I know for a fact if Carlina was to see you in this dress, she would be green with envy,” he added and clinched the sale.

  “I’ll take it,” Joey announced. Once she bought one dress it was easier for her to buy another one…and then another one. Before she knew it, she and Sergio and selected a full wardrobe.

  However, Ryan had a few more surprises up his sleeves.

  When the first batch of tall, brawny men dressed in what could only be described as FBI blues arrived, Joey feared the hotel was about to escort her off the premises. Instead, the men proceeded to open suitcases filled with priceless gems.

  “Your...boyfriend,” Sergio whispered. “Has spared no expense. You must make him very happy.”

  Joey’s hand floated up and cross her mouth. “I…I have done no such thing,” she admitted. Caving in to temptation, she leaned over one suitcase and ogled a choker with four rows of round-cut diamonds.

  Sergio chuckled and elbowed her. “Don’t just stare at it. Try it on.”

  She shook her head, fearful to even touch the thing. “How many total carats you think it is?”

  Sergio reached for the glittering gem and read a tiny card attached. “Eighty carats.”

  Joey took a retreating step. “Is he crazy?”

  “A good kind of crazy, no?”

  “I’m not wearing that thing. What if I break it or lose it?”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” he assured. “Besides it’s insured. Now turn around.”

  Despite her racing heart, she did as her shopper instructed and still gasped when the beautiful necklace descended before her eyes and finally came to rest around her long neck.

  Both she and Sergio stared at her reflection.

  Though she only wore her simple jeans and Ryan’s business shirt, nothing special had been done to her hair and her face bore no makeup. In spite of that, Joey hardly recognized the woman in the mirror.

  There was something about the magnificent piece that transformed her instantly. She wasn’t simple or tomboyish, but lithe and elegant.

  “This was made for you,” Sergio whispered.

  For one crazy moment Joey believed him. “I’ll take it.”

  “Great. Now let’s find some earrings.”

  #

  Usually a devoted workaholic, Ryan surprised everyone by ending their first official workday early. Immediately afterward his cell vibrated against his hip and the very concerned producers of La Bella Vida questioned whether there was a problem.

  “Al, trust me,” he said, sliding into his limousine. “I have everything under control. The crew will continue working on the set tomorrow morning and the cast will meet for their first read-through at the hotel’s conference room. Shooting is still set for the day after tomorrow.” He bobbed his head and half listened to his caller.

  “Right, right. You’re not losing any money,” he said the magic phrase and quickly ended the call. “Did you make the reservations?”

  On the other side of the limousine, Zach sighed and folded his arms. “I made your reservations at the hotel’s Galleria.”

  “Great.” His smile radiated as he clapped his hands together. “What about the other thing I asked you?”

  Zach drew a heavy breath and shook his head at his friend. “I have to ask you this again. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Positive.” Ryan winked. He hadn’t felt this giddy since his first movie premier.

  Zach stared. When Ryan continued to smile, Zach reached into his coat pocket and handed over his afternoon task. “Just remember, I warned you against this.”

  #

  Carlina Leoni has only had one ambition in life: to be the most famous actress in the world. Despite her latest stinker-slash-box-office-hit, she was still on course. As she soaked in a luxurious milk bath, she stared at the latest tabloid newspaper, pleased to have snatched the front page.

  As she opened the magazine and perused through its glossy pages, she realized that her engagement to a brilliant plastic surgeon didn’t qualify them as a red-carpet power couple.

  With the likes of Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman, Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston, and even the infamous Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez dismembered, Hollywood was in desperate need of the next golden couple.

  Carlina sighed and leaned her head back against her seashell inflated bath pillow and pondered whether she’d made a mistake. At the age of twenty-five, she was already overdue for her first start-up marriage.

  Maybe she should have pulled a Britney Spears weekend-wedding special with Larry instead of a rushed Italian getaway during a movie shoot like her publist had suggested.

  Of course, after the divorce her heartbreak would be splashed over every magazine cover. If lucky, she would even get a CNN news scroll announcing the split à la Bennifer and gain some much-needed sympathy points.

  There were just so many career decisions to be made. Like: how long should she stay married--a weekend, a month--three months?

  Six months was out of the question.

  Larry’s constant quest for perfection was already getting on her nerves. Not to mention, it took everything she had not to scratch his eyes out for calling her Jo-Jo in bed.

  Carlina remembered Larry’s ex-girlfriend from The Blue Diamond and still felt a sliver of jealousy of the woman’s effortless beauty. Larry’s Jo-Jo was what many people in the industry called a “natural beauty.” She didn’t have to inject foreign objects or plaster on expensive makeup to get noticed.

  Who didn’t hate women like that? Carlina’s only concern was what Jo-Jo was doing at the Blue Diamond with Ryan? Because when this was all over, Carlina wanted to move in for the kill on the real man she wanted for a husband.

  A man powerful enough to keep her in the Hollywood game long after her youth and beauty began to fade. Say when she hits thirty or something. The man she’d purposely followed from picture to picture: Hollywood director Ryan Donovan.

  Chapter 19

  Ryan waltzed into his hotel suite anxious to see Joey at the end of a long day. He looked forward to showing her a great time and showing her off. More than once his mind wandered with thoughts of her--some of them were erotic, most were not.

  He was fascinated by more than just his physical reaction; he like the sound of her laughter. It was lyrical and infectious. Ryan even liked her childlike impulsiveness. But, more important, Joey was a woman in love with love.

  Dr. Benson had been a lucky man and he didn’t even know it.

  “Lucy, I’m home.” Ryan called out in his best Ricky Ricardo voice as his long strides carried him across the spacious suite. From one of the bedrooms he heard the spray of water and followed its sound.

  He opened the right bedroom door and called, “Joey?”

  The shower shut off in the adjoining bathroom.

  “Ryan?” she shouted back.

  “Yeah, it’s me.” He smiled at the casual intimacy already established between them and admitted to himself that he liked it.

  “You’re early!” Joey grabbed a towel and stepped out the shower. She wrapped it around her and rushed to the bathroom door and peeked out. “I’m not ready.”

  “You have plenty of time. I’m going to jump in the shower myself before we head out.”

  “What…in here?” she asked, though she already knew the answer, but given her mood, she couldn’t stop herself from flirting.

  Smiling, he approached the bathroom. “Is that an invitation I hear?” He caught glimpse of her bare shoulder and could feel another salute in the works. Joey continued to have quite an effect on him.

  “Are you kidding me? If I broke you off a piece, I’ll never be able to get rid of you.”

  Ryan laughed. “I won’t be the only one whipped.”

  Her laughter danced around him as he leaned against the doorframe. “So how was your shopping today?”

>   “Surprising, unexpected and way over the top.”

  “But you liked it?”

  “I had a nice time.”

  “Good. Then you’ll have an even better time tonight.” He leaned forward to sneak a more revealing peek at her.

  “Hey!” She slammed the door but continued to laugh. “Go get dressed,” Joey directed.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he thundered like an army private, and then marched off into another bedroom to carry out the order.

  Joey listened as his heavy footfall padded out of the room. When she glanced up at the vanity mirror, she caught the smile still on her lips. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” she asked herself for what seemed like the millionth time.

  Slowly she lowered her gaze and pretended not to hear the small voice in her head when it answered, “No.”

  #

  An hour later Ryan rechecked his appearance in the full-length mirror in his bedroom. He had prepared for more than a thousand red-carpet events and award shows and never had he worried more about his appearance than he did at that moment.

  At heart, he was a jeans and football jersey kind of man; let it never be said that Ryan Donovan didn’t know how to flip the script. Tonight’s special, a double-breasted black Armani, fit his body like a glove, and he grew more anxious to drape the ultimate male accessory on his arm: a beautiful woman.

  “Joey,” he called, stepping out of his bedroom. “Are you about ready?” He headed toward the bar to prepare drinks.

  The last thing Ryan expected was for a woman to be on time, but that was exactly what happened when Joey’s bedroom door crept open. He pivoted in its direction, his breath trapped in his chest.

  He had expected her to be beautiful, but in truth she was more than that. Stunning, striking, gorgeous--no one word encompassed the vision that floated toward him in a floor-length white gown with something that looked like stars glittering around her arms and waist. To complete the look, diamonds sparkled around her lean, elegant neck and dripped from her ears.

  “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  Ryan’s eyebrows stretched higher and his jaw slackened, but words continued to fail him.