by Nana Malone
“I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise. I just want to talk.”
Mia shoved her hands into her jeans. “And we couldn’t talk on the phone?”
“Certainly not on your work phone. I’m sure they’d record it if they thought it had anything to do with the show.”
Mia shook her head. “Glad to see your cynicism is intact.”
He sighed. “Sorry. But it’s an easy way for them to create drama for the show since the Prince Charmings aren’t allowed to call you.”
She bit the inside of her mouth. “So I’m here. And nice touch with the library.”
He shrugged. “Well, I know you can’t resist a book, so consider this my olive branch.” He handed her a lanyard to pin onto her top then led her in the front doors right past the disapproving security guard, who softened when he saw their passes.
They took the stairs down to the fiction section before he started talking. “First, I wanted to apologize for the other night.”
Tension rolled onto her shoulders. “Which part?”
He frowned, and she had to steel herself. Even frowning, he was still too good-looking to stare at for very long. She never had a chance against him.
“All of it. I wasn’t trying to scam you with lines from the blog. And it was an inadvertent omission, okay? I didn’t even think to tell you about it because it didn’t come up. Before I knew what was happening, I was on a date.”
A tiny, hidden, buried-six-feet-under part of her was desperate to believe him. Larissa was right. She wasn’t immune. Hell, she had a pulse. But she knew better than to listen to him. This is what he did best. “Ryan?” She eased into his personal space.
“Mmm?” His gaze dipped to her lips.
“You’d have a better chance of me believing you if I hadn’t already read your articles on how to make a woman feel like she’s the most special creature on the planet. This is textbook. The romantic, secluded, special location. The effort taken to have it to ourselves, then you lay it on thick.”
He groaned and ran his hands through that hair. “Sometimes I fucking hate that column.”
She studied him closely. “Do you mean that?”
He exhaled long and harsh. “Yeah. I don’t bullshit people that write in for advice. You might not like how I say it, but my advice is sound.”
“You act like love is a game to be played, and it’s not.”
His laugh was harsh. “Yes, it is. A lot of guys want to be with as many women as possible before they have to settle down. And a lot of women want to find the one and lock down that man. I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but the idea of fairytale love is antiquated and naïve. And don’t even get me started on marriage. You seem like a smart girl, I can’t believe you believe in this bullshit.”
“Bullshit? You don’t know what you’re talking about. My adoptive parents have been married for ages, and they’re still in love. They’re proof that it can happen.”
“Well, good for them. But I promise you, it’s because they are great partners. It’s not because of love.”
“There you go again, spouting off about something you know nothing about. Are we done here? I need to go.”
He sighed. “This wasn’t how I intended for this to go.”
“What did you intend? What am I doing here?”
“I wanted to ask you not to say anything about me being Single Guy.”
Ahh, so he was worried about his precious column. Well, she didn’t give a damn about his column. “And why is it exactly that I would help you out?”
His jade green gaze landed on her with a startling intensity. “I don’t know. I’m just asking you for a favor, Mia. I have a job to do, just like you do. Neither one of us is there for love.”
When he cocked his head like that, Mia’s belly flipped. Stupid traitorous body. “You’re there for your story? You can write it just as easily watching it at home. And while you clearly are not there for love, I’m at least open to the possibility.”
“Tell me something, Mia? Why do you want me off the show so badly?”
Because you make my body want to do things that might be illegal in several states. “Because you clearly don’t want to be there. And it’s not like you actually want to date me. Oh that, and you’re irritating as hell. Oh wait, one more, I don’t like you.”
His grin flashed. “You’re sure about that?”
Despite herself, she flushed. She tipped her chin up. “Damn sure.”
When Ryan leaned in, Mia automatically held her breath. She’d already learned that breathing in his cologne was a recipe for disaster. She’d end up thinking about him the rest of the night.
He sucked in his bottom lip as his gaze dipped to her mouth. “Then why are you blushing?”
He reached out for a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. Mia was so surprised by the contact that she froze.
“I am not. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to tell in this lighting anyway.” She slipped into one of the paperback mystery stacks.
“You’re not very good at bluffing.” He took her hand and tugged her into the light. He ran his thumb over her cheek with a butterfly soft touch. “I see it right here.”
Of course, the second he touched her, her body warmed again. “It’s hot in here.”
“If you say so. I think you want me gone because I unsettle you.”
“Oh that’s such bull—”
He leaned in even closer, making her skin hum with anticipation. When he was close enough for their breaths to mingle, he whispered, “Prove it.”
Through the fog of lust, Mia struggled to understand. He’d said something to her. From the look in his eyes, it was something that would piss her off. But her stupid libido was too busy plotting ways to tear off his clothes. “What?”
“Let me stay until my natural dismissal from the show.”
“So, to prove that you don’t affect me, I let you stay. Remind me again what I get out of this?”
“Fine, how about this? I stay, and I drive traffic to your blog. A little friendly, dating advice camaraderie of sorts.”
Mia narrowed her eyes. “You have national syndication. Why would you send me traffic?”
“Because if I stay and write about my experience, I’ll get to do features and leave the advice column behind. That’s what I really want. And you want more exposure for “Lonely Girl”. I can give you that.”
Those kind of additional page hits would help TVN take her seriously. She tipped her chin up. “How do I know I can trust you? And that you won’t send trolls my way?”
“Let me stay till next week. I have a column due in two days. If I don’t shoot you traffic, or if anyone trolls you, then tell the producers.”
He knew how to wave the right kind of bait. “Steer clear of me. Group dates only. No solo dates.”
He rolled his eyes. “I do need to look like I’m try—” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. “Fine. Do we have a deal?”
“I’ll think about it.” It might be worth putting up with him a little bit longer if it got her closer to what she wanted. And all she had to do to get it was ignore the effect he had on her.
“Oh, and Mia?”
She glowered at him. “What?”
“None of my business, but watch your back with Jamie. I think she needs you a whole lot more than you need her.”
“Ah, there it is. That cynical mind of yours. My how I’d missed it.”
He took a step toward her. “Mia—”
She stood her ground. “I don’t need you trying to mess with my mind. Not everyone is out to get everyone else.”
Chapter Eleven
After leaving Mia, Ryan made his way uptown. He let himself into the Upper West Side apartment he technically owned with his brother—their mother had left it to them when she passed away. But he hadn’t been here in months, nearly a year. As always, the place was pristine. But then, of course it would be. That’s what happened when you had a live-in maid.<
br />
“Reece, are you here?”
“In the game room,” his brother called from down the hallway.
As he followed the sounds of clinking pool balls, Ryan tried to steel himself for what was to come, the pang of regret and pain. When he’d walked away from the family bullshit, it had caused a rift between him and Reece. His brother had no problem with the lifestyle. No problem with their father and the tactics he used to keep them in line. But then again Reece was the golden child. The first-born.
It had taken four years to rebuild that relationship. Back then, Reece hadn’t understood Ryan’s reasons for leaving. He’d seen it as a betrayal. They’d both been grieving the loss of their mother and grandfather. They’d just had very different ways of dealing with the pain.
But, now things were different. Or at least changing for the better.
The moment Reece saw him, he put down the pool cue and encapsulated him in a fierce hug. “Shit, little brother, it’s good to see your ugly mug.”
Ryan pulled back and smiled at him. “I’m still prettier than you are.”
Reece laughed as he clapped him on the back. He released him and studied him closely. “How the fuck have you been? You want to tell me why it took so long for us to get together? I feel like you’ve been dodging my calls. And the other night, you hung up before we even had a chance to talk. Everything okay with you?”
Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been busy.”
“Bullshit. No one’s that busy.”
They’d been so close once, but the years of distance had taught him which topics to stay away from. And inevitably when they talked, some of those topics got broached. Money being one of them. When he left home, he’d walked away from a substantial trust fund left to him by his mother and grandfather’s estate as well as several properties.
He’d come into that wealth on his twentieth birthday, six months after they died. He hadn’t wanted any of it, and to spite the family, he’d considered giving it all away to some wildlife preserve or something. But cooler heads had prevailed. To honor their memory, he wanted to do something good with that money someday, but he hadn’t wanted it then, so he’d named a trustee. His father had insisted he name him as the trustee, but Ryan had given him a big fuck you and named Reece instead. It had been a burden to his brother and put tension on his relationship with their father.
“You’re right. Totally bullshit. But I’m here now. What’s up?”
Reece shrugged and handed him a pool cue even as he racked the balls. “I can’t complain. Wait until I tell you about the lingerie model I just met.” Reece’s eyebrows waggled.
Ryan could only laugh. His brother had such an easy, amiable countenance that it was hard not to feel at ease around him. Reece had been dating vapid models since he was old enough to drive and probably even before then. “Maybe one of these days you’ll date a normal girl.”
Reece paled and clapped his hand on his chest. “Now why the fuck would I want to do that?”
“You know what? I have no idea.” He laughed. His brother’s smile was easy, but Ryan knew when he was being watched.
After Reece got him a beer and they settled down in the entertainment room, Reece finally asked, “So what gives? I know you didn’t pick this place for shits and giggles. If you just wanted to grab a beer, you would have sent a text that said “beer?” You called and specifically asked to meet me here. I know you hate this place.”
Ryan sighed. “I don’t hate this place.”
Reece grinned. “Is it me? The endless parade of half-naked women makes you green with envy?”
“You’re an asshole. But no. I don’t like the reminders.” Of his mother. Of what he’d left behind. He didn’t want it, and somehow coming here always felt like a taunt.
Reece shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”
His brother frowned. “Is it money? You finally want to draw from your account? Because it’s building. And I could use your help determining how you want to grow it.”
Of course that would be the first question. “No. It’s not money. Just do what you think is best.”
“You in trouble?”
“What? Fuck no.” Unless his brother counted having his libido haunted by Mia.
“Thank God. Though in case you ever are, the jet’s standing at the ready all fueled up. It’s yours by the way.”
Ryan hated the way he said that. As if that was normal. “I don’t need the jet. And why do I have a jet?”
Reece’s laugh was humorless. “The richest man I know, and you live in a one-bedroom in midtown. The most lavish vacation you’ve taken in five years is the one where you bummed around Europe on a motorcycle. Did you know you’re richer than Dad?”
His heart missed a beat. Before he’d left home, his father used to take pleasure in pointing out his net worth. Half a billion. How could Ryan have that much money? “That can’t be right.”
His brother rolled his eyes. “You forget, I’m sort of a financial whiz kid.”
“Really? At your age, Reece? I think kid is being generous.”
“Yeah, keep laughing. But sooner or later you’re going to have to deal with being one of the richest people in this city. Hell, you’re richer than me, but that’s only because I actually spend my money. Yours, I reinvest. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to claim it again. Or Dad will find a way to break the trust and he will control it. And considering the state of MLD Holdings, you don’t want that.”
Ryan shook his head. The whole of New York society knew the story of his supposed breakdown and how he’d left it all behind. The only twist on it was that everyone assumed his father had cut him off because he wouldn’t get his shit together. Little did they know. “I don’t want it.”
Reece hung his head. “Look, when you took off, I know you think I was judging you. Or that maybe I thought you were judging me. But what really stung was you walking away as my brother.”
What? That’s what he thought? “Fuck, it had nothing to do with you. I was trying to get as far away from Dad as I could. I needed to grieve, and he was making a money grab. He was pissed when he found out the Hamptons house went to us. And you were working for him. I didn’t want to put you in the middle of that. And then all that shit went down with Alana, and I couldn’t deal with any of it. So I booked.”
“You were still my brother.”
“I tried the best I could,” Ryan muttered
His brother put up his hand. “Look, I know I didn’t make it easy. And it was bullshit that it took me nearly three years to call you. But the bottom line is this: I’m not going to let anything stand in the way of us being brothers. A few hundred million dollars or not.”
Ryan shook his head. “You always were the stubborn one.”
“Says the guy who walked away from a trust fund to prove a point.” Reece laughed. “What was that favor you wanted to ask?”
Now or never. “You know I’ve been looking to get away from the column and write some features. I have a chance to do that. But to manage it, I’ll need to return to the fold, but I really need to look like the prodigal son.”
“I don’t get it.”
Quickly, Ryan walked him through the show and what he was doing, playing himself. But no one, especially their father, could tip anyone to where he worked.
His brother whistled. “Lucky for you, this is mostly the truth. You are the prodigal son—sort of. Except, you don’t want to come back. But I hope you realize, if you put yourself in the public eye, you’ll be hounded.”
“That’s sort of the idea. I want the producers to think I have nothing to lose. I want them to think they can control me. I’m smarter than I was then. I’m not going to get caught up. I just need to start taking a more active role in some of our side businesses. Sort of a reintroduction into society.” Over the last year, Reece had brought him in as a silent consultant on several of his smaller projects. In particular, the media
start-ups.
“Pick an afternoon this week, and I’ll bring you in and up to speed. But are you sure about this?”
He nodded. “I’m sure. I appreciate it Reece.”
“Of course.” His brother chewed his bottom lip. “Uh, I hate to point out the obvious, but if you want to do this, it means you’re probably going to have to talk to Dad at some point.”
“Hopefully later, rather than sooner.”
Chapter Twelve
Ryan waited in the green room with the other contestants, and he quickly identified targets to question. There were six from the previous seasons. He only had a limited time to find his story hook before he got booted off. If there was a story here, he’d have to talk to the guys from before.
A pretty brunette poked her head into the green room. “Good evening, gentlemen, are y’all ready? I’m Larissa, and I’ll be helping you get situated tonight. I know some of you have already been through this, and I know that Francis was giving you the rundown, but to reiterate, since this is a live show, and I want you to be crystal clear.”
She looked around at each of them, making sure to meet gazes. Smart. She was making sure they were paying attention.
“Here’s how it will go. I’ll lead you all onto the stage. It’s set up like a living room, so you all can have a seat. The rose you will give to Mia has been marked with a number. It’ll tell you where to sit. Please don’t screw around with this arrangement. Because if you do, and you survive the cuts tonight, Jamie will make my life hell, and then I will make your life hell. Understood?”
Some of the guys sniggered, but he had a feeling fucking with her was a kind of headache he didn’t need. He nodded his head in acquiescence.
She drew in a deep breath. “First, we’ll reveal the three guys going home. Please try to remember this is done by audience vote. Mia has no say over this, so try not to freak out on her. She doesn’t have any saves until the next episode. Once the bottom three have been announced, we’ll announce the number one Prince Charming, and he can choose to save one of his buddies. If you win the number one spot and you decide to save someone, be prepared to speak on camera right after about why you saved that guy. It’ll be just like your confessional tapings. Any questions?”
