Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
“What the fuck is this? I like my coffee at exactly a hundred-and-thirty-five degrees! This is a hundred and twenty, at best!”
Riley tossed the coffee across the ground, the cup landing on the perfectly green, golf-course-type grass and rolling down the gentle slope a few feet.
Rita gasped.
Behind Riley stood her “entourage”, consisting of Iris, Annika, Cami, Samantha, and Lana along with the crew in from Mountainville.
They were all dressed in Big clothes, since they were out and about.
Stryker and Harrison were sitting this one out, since they’d most likely be recognized in an up-close- and-personal setting like Rita’s backyard.
Not that the backyard was small and cramped, by any means.
The grounds were bigger and more sprawling than the mansion was, and that was saying something!
A few employees of the events rental company who were setting up tables and chairs looked up at the commotion of the temper tantrum Riley had thrown about the coffee, but they quickly went back to their business.
This was Hollywood. In a town full of self-important people, things like that happened. Riley just hated that it might shade their perceptions of her moving forward. But that couldn’t be helped right now. She had a part to play.
“Riley, darling, what’s gotten in to you? And since when do you travel with such a large group?”
“It’s not a group. This is my entourage, Rita. And I can’t believe you tried to pass that crap off as coffee. It was disgusting.”
“Who do you think you are?” Iris asked Rita. “This is Riley Fucking Hartwell. She deserves better than a hundred-and-twenty-degree coffee!”
“Right?” Katie joined in. “You essentially took a liquid shit in a cup, microwaved it, and tried to pass it off as coffee.”
“And to one of the biggest stars on the planet, no less,” Michael joined in. Shaking his head, he snorted. “Absolutely disgusting.” He was taller than Eli and a little broader, but his brown hair was nearly the exact color as his friend’s.
Riley nodded. “Leah, did you note that?”
Leah—a tall woman whose dark skin hinted at her Basque ancestors—said, “Noted right here,” in her natural British accent. She held up the clipboard in her hands and used the pen she also held to jab at a certain spot. “Right dreadful treatment, if I may say so. Bloody wretched.”
“Darling, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were so particular about your coffee,” Rita said.
Riley whirled her fingers, as if signaling they were moving on. “Just give me the deets about tomorrow.”
When a few seconds passed without a clearly stunned Rita responding, Leah, playing her role as personal assistant to the hilt, said, “Well, come on then. Put your skates on and stop faffing about.”
Rita seemed even more confused now.
“I’ll translate the British for you,” Stella said. “It means hurry up already!”
Riley was nearly in stitches, but she pulled out all the acting ability she had and somehow managed to keep from laughing. She was willing to bet an entire movie paycheck that Rita had never been spoken to in such a way.
It was awesome.
“Hurry up, indeed,” Leah said. “Miss Hartwell has a pedicure in thirty minutes, a manicure in two hours, and then drinks with friends at six this evening. So let’s crack on, yeah?”
“Uh… sure,” Rita said. Clearing her throat, she tugged her blouse down and appeared as if she were trying to gain the upper hand once more.
“Riley, tomorrow night, I want you arriving with Rowan Keene. There will be plenty of booze around, so he’ll probably be sloshed an hour in.
That is if he isn’t drunk before he even gets here.
” She laughed as if there was something funny about the man’s addiction.
“Is there any chance I could get you to drink with him?” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
Even playing the role of a spoiled stuck-up star, this request was too much for Riley. “Absolutely not.”
Rita’s shoulders slumped a little as her smile faded. “Figured as much. Okay, well, do what you do and nag him about his drinking.”
Riley wanted to tell the woman off. First of all, it was all kinds of wrong and insanely unethical to use Rowan in such a way.
Secondly, Riley had never nagged Rowan. She saw him one time when she tried to help him.
But that was neither here nor there. Whatever Rita was planning for tomorrow wasn’t going to come to fruition, anyway.
“Of course, this is an invitation-only party and I’ve issued you and Rowan both one.” Rita’s eyes fell to the “entourage” as she spoke, the implication clear.
Riley suppressed a grin. Again, everything the agent said was irrelevant right now. But she’d play along.
“Of course, the important thing, darling, is that a scene is made. We want this everywhere! Trouble in paradise. An up-and-coming star on a collision course with disaster. His troubled girlfriend trying desperately to save him! It writes itself.”
There was more than a little contempt in Katie’s voice when she said, “You’ll no doubt have lots of press here.”
Rita snorted. “Press? Darling, you don’t know a thing, do you? Reporters aren’t shit anymore. Influencers are who I’ve invited. Along with all the bigshot producers, directors, and actors. More than a few investors.”
Anyone you can bilk out of money, Riley thought.
She looked beyond her agent to the towering mansion that sat in the distance.
A mansion that was probably bought with all the cash Rita had swindled. Riley burned with anger as she thought of those senior citizens and their estates Rita had taken control of. The anger intensified when she thought of the way she was willing to use Rowan’s addiction as a pawn in her scheme.
Not to mention everything Rita had done to Riley.
So, she meant every word of it when she said, “Don’t worry, Rita. I’ll be here tomorrow night. I wouldn’t miss it. And trust me, it’s going to be an evening you and none of your guests will ever forget.”
Rita smiled in satisfaction.
Don’t get too happy, lady, Riley thought. If you only knew.
Oh, if you only knew…