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Love Unrehearsed

Page 155

   


Mike was busy dealing with the location’s shoddy security, so he was the last one to notice his former coworker milling about.
A young man who was part of the crew approached us, holding a small box with wires.
“Mr. Christensen, I have your mic.” He clipped the small microphone onto Ryan’s shirt, fishing the wire beneath his clothes.
Ryan lifted his arm so the guy could connect it to a small box that clipped to the back of Ryan’s pants.
David, Ryan’s manager, strolled over, twisting his Rolex. “Okay, Ryan. You and Lauren Delaney are scheduled to do a joint interview with Moviefone in about ten minutes and then you’ll do the rest of the press interviews individually. We have three interview rooms, so we’ll be moving the press around in ten-minute intervals with a break every hour.”
I couldn’t help but keep an eye on the other side of the room—on them.
“Yeah, fine. Whatever.” Ryan squeezed his water bottle, making the plastic crinkle from the pressure. “What’s the deal, Mike? I’m not liking this one bit,” he growled.
“Dunno. I know PSG relieved him of duty right after the incident. They wouldn’t hire him back—not after that breach. He must still be working private detail.” Mike leaned in closer. “Do you have a PFA on him?” Ryan flashed another angry frown at me.
“No.”
“I didn’t see a need to,” I said, sticking by my original decision.
“I want him to stay away from Taryn. He comes near her or gets in my face, I’ll kill him.” Ryan was dead serious. “I need to talk to Lauren before we start. Can you find out if he’s traveling the entire press junket with her?”
Mike nodded. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
David ditched the woman organizing the press interviews after looking over in the direction of our heated stares; he was finally clued in to the situation. He stormed right back over to Ryan. “Christ. Not this shit again. Time to put your personal shit aside and be professional, Ryan. Perhaps Taryn should wait at your hotel until you’re finished so we don’t have any additional problems?”
Ryan glared at him. “I think it’s time we part ways, David.”
I was surprised that Ryan was doing this now.
David jerked back, aghast. “What?”
“You want to keep your fucking job?
That’s the last time you dismiss my woman.
We clear? I don’t need you to remind me or to tell me what to do.”
“I was merely suggesting that it might be wise to separate her from potential problems, that’s all.”
Ryan scoffed at him. “David, you’re so full of shit. I think it’s best if you just walked away before I fire you.”
The woman with the clipboard walked over. “Mr. Christensen, we’re ready to begin.
You’ll be in Parlor A. If you’ll just follow me.” She ushered, pointing the way.
“Yeah, in a minute.” Ryan clutched my elbow. “Stay away from him. Find Trish and stick with Marie, okay?”
I gave him a kiss and went on a hunt for the ladies’ room. Straight down the wide hallway, I found a buffet table with bottles of water stuck in ice. Just when I thought I was safe I felt the little hairs prickle on my neck, sensing him before he stepped beside me.
“Taryn.”
No, no. Shit. The closer he came the stronger the scent of his cologne became.
I decided to avoid a conflict and be considerate. “Kyle.”
He regarded me with a sideways glance.
“You look well.”
I gripped a bottle tightly in my hand, feeling the cold moisture seep into my palm, matching the chill rolling down my spine.
“Thank you.”
“I’ve seen you a few times but I haven’t had the opportunity to congratulate you on your engagement.”
I heard the faint strain in his voice from him trying to be sincere. I wanted to ignore him completely, but it was difficult, so I gave him a simple “thank you” instead.
“I heard Ryan was getting out of control there for a while, punching the paparazzi?” I felt heat flame up my neck from him attempting to bait me. Of course he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to press my buttons.
“When they climb up trees to intrude on our privacy, they deserve it. Besides, that’s old news.”
He took a swig of a bottle of water, contemplating my response. “I was just surprised that he’d mar his wholesome image like that.”
I glared at him. “Are you done?” Kyle reached for a napkin. “Things could have been different, you know.”