Love Unrehearsed
Page 23
“Ryan, you’re overreacting,” Marla chided.
Ryan glared at her.
“Overreacting?”
“Son, what’s going on?” Bill asked, stepping into the middle of it.
“Nothing, Dad. Don’t worry about it,” Ry-an said curtly, waving his father off.
“Yes. Overreacting. You have a duty to the studio and the producers and dragging her down the carpet is not the best time for a debut. The press will want to interview her, Ry-an. And what is she going to say?” God, this woman really irked me. “I think I can handle myself.”
Marla blinked at my momentary interrup-tion and then proceeded to ramble again.
“She hasn’t been through any media training. She won’t know how to respond to questions properly. We can’t risk making mistakes now. You do your interviews and then appropriate arrangements for photo opportunities will be m—”
“No!” Ryan said with utter finality. “I am not hiding this anymore. She arrives with me—tonight. End of discussion.” I felt like the child that should have stayed home with the babysitter.
Marla huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If you would just listen to me for one minute. This is her first premiere. Let her get the feel for it and then maybe next time . . .” I had just about all I could take seeing Ry-an under such stress. I had to shove my own wants and needs to the side. “Ryan, it’s all right. I’ll ride with your parents and I’ll stay out of the way and I won’t speak to anyone.
No photographs, no interviews, nothing. I promise. Just . . . let’s go. You won’t be late because of me.”
“No!” Ryan growled again. He didn’t budge when I tugged his hand. “Hang on, honey. This is bullshit. Call and Kelly arrived together when we did the ll.A. Seaside premiere, and here I am in a goddamned alleyway having an argument about wanting to arrive at my premiere with my fiancée.”
“Ryan, calm down, buddy.” David tried to smooth it over. “If you want her in the car—”
“Your public image is my responsibility, Ryan. Mine!” Marla said. “You’ve barely dated this girl, foolishly got her pregnant once already, and now you’re engaged? Do you have any idea what kind of reckless image that sends? And how long do you suppose this one will last until it winds up being a court battle? One misstep, one mis-quote—that’s all it takes to ruin things for you. We’ve had countless discussions about dating, asset protection protocol, and keeping your private life low-key and off the press’s radar so the focus stays on your new career, but that doesn’t seem to register with you. I’ve been trying to protect your professional image.” Marla huffed. “If you, for once, would just do what you’re told to do instead of running off like a lovesick teenager, life would be so much easier.” My stomach twisted and roiled and I wanted to throw up. The impulse to sprint down the alley and head for the airport came on right after that. My worst fears of being deemed bad for him were just confirmed. I felt like I was shattering inside. How can our love for each other possibly survive through all these constant bombardments, accusations, and heartaches?
Ryan eyed her with contempt. “What? Is that what you think of me? Oh ho,” he grumbled. “We are so done.”
“Calm down, Ryan,” David said again, patting him on the shoulder to coax him away.
Ryan rolled his shoulder away with force.
I could see the rage coat his face, pulling his lips, his nose, into a snarl. For a moment I worried that he was going to take a swing at David.
“No! Fuck that. I’ve had enough!” he shouted. “I’m done listening to you, Marla.
Taryn is upset. I’m stressed-out. The press is making me out to be an asshole for not saying anything about the engagement—all because I’ve been listening to you and your bullshit. From now on, we do this my way.
And I’m only dealing with Trish. At least I know she cares about what I want. I should have listened to her advice instead of following yours.”
Shit. I couldn’t help but squeeze my eyes from Ryan’s gaffe.
Marla couldn’t hide her surprise, masking it quickly when she became fixated on her own manicure. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
Ryan rubbed his forehead before turning back to address her. “Okay, then I’ll tell you what . . . let me make life easier for you, Marla. I’ll get another publicist. It’s as simple as that.”
“Don’t threaten, Ryan. It’s so unbecoming.
Ryan glared at her.
“Overreacting?”
“Son, what’s going on?” Bill asked, stepping into the middle of it.
“Nothing, Dad. Don’t worry about it,” Ry-an said curtly, waving his father off.
“Yes. Overreacting. You have a duty to the studio and the producers and dragging her down the carpet is not the best time for a debut. The press will want to interview her, Ry-an. And what is she going to say?” God, this woman really irked me. “I think I can handle myself.”
Marla blinked at my momentary interrup-tion and then proceeded to ramble again.
“She hasn’t been through any media training. She won’t know how to respond to questions properly. We can’t risk making mistakes now. You do your interviews and then appropriate arrangements for photo opportunities will be m—”
“No!” Ryan said with utter finality. “I am not hiding this anymore. She arrives with me—tonight. End of discussion.” I felt like the child that should have stayed home with the babysitter.
Marla huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If you would just listen to me for one minute. This is her first premiere. Let her get the feel for it and then maybe next time . . .” I had just about all I could take seeing Ry-an under such stress. I had to shove my own wants and needs to the side. “Ryan, it’s all right. I’ll ride with your parents and I’ll stay out of the way and I won’t speak to anyone.
No photographs, no interviews, nothing. I promise. Just . . . let’s go. You won’t be late because of me.”
“No!” Ryan growled again. He didn’t budge when I tugged his hand. “Hang on, honey. This is bullshit. Call and Kelly arrived together when we did the ll.A. Seaside premiere, and here I am in a goddamned alleyway having an argument about wanting to arrive at my premiere with my fiancée.”
“Ryan, calm down, buddy.” David tried to smooth it over. “If you want her in the car—”
“Your public image is my responsibility, Ryan. Mine!” Marla said. “You’ve barely dated this girl, foolishly got her pregnant once already, and now you’re engaged? Do you have any idea what kind of reckless image that sends? And how long do you suppose this one will last until it winds up being a court battle? One misstep, one mis-quote—that’s all it takes to ruin things for you. We’ve had countless discussions about dating, asset protection protocol, and keeping your private life low-key and off the press’s radar so the focus stays on your new career, but that doesn’t seem to register with you. I’ve been trying to protect your professional image.” Marla huffed. “If you, for once, would just do what you’re told to do instead of running off like a lovesick teenager, life would be so much easier.” My stomach twisted and roiled and I wanted to throw up. The impulse to sprint down the alley and head for the airport came on right after that. My worst fears of being deemed bad for him were just confirmed. I felt like I was shattering inside. How can our love for each other possibly survive through all these constant bombardments, accusations, and heartaches?
Ryan eyed her with contempt. “What? Is that what you think of me? Oh ho,” he grumbled. “We are so done.”
“Calm down, Ryan,” David said again, patting him on the shoulder to coax him away.
Ryan rolled his shoulder away with force.
I could see the rage coat his face, pulling his lips, his nose, into a snarl. For a moment I worried that he was going to take a swing at David.
“No! Fuck that. I’ve had enough!” he shouted. “I’m done listening to you, Marla.
Taryn is upset. I’m stressed-out. The press is making me out to be an asshole for not saying anything about the engagement—all because I’ve been listening to you and your bullshit. From now on, we do this my way.
And I’m only dealing with Trish. At least I know she cares about what I want. I should have listened to her advice instead of following yours.”
Shit. I couldn’t help but squeeze my eyes from Ryan’s gaffe.
Marla couldn’t hide her surprise, masking it quickly when she became fixated on her own manicure. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
Ryan rubbed his forehead before turning back to address her. “Okay, then I’ll tell you what . . . let me make life easier for you, Marla. I’ll get another publicist. It’s as simple as that.”
“Don’t threaten, Ryan. It’s so unbecoming.
