Seduced by Sunday
Page 20“Don’t bring my mother into this conversation.”
“You know, Masini, your people skills could use some work. I’m not your enemy.”
“The privacy of my guests is paramount.”
“As if I don’t know that.”
“I don’t care for surprises.”
She glared with her lips in a straight line. “Must be a bitch for your family around your birthday.”
“Who is Ryder Gerard?”
“I couldn’t tell you.”
Val twisted his hands into small knots and shoved them in his pockets.
For a brief moment, Margaret simply stared him down. It was a visual game of chicken and Val had a sneaking suspicion that he was about to lose.
She blew out a long breath. “Listen, Val. I honestly don’t know who Michael wants to bring to the island. But I do know Michael. The man seldom has a vacation or even a meal without hordes of fans wanting a piece of him. My guess is he feels safe here. I don’t think there has been any media watching us since we’ve arrived and maybe Michael wanted to have an old friend join us. I’m sure whoever Mr. Gerard is, he’s perfectly safe.”
Val hated how sincere she sounded. How innocent her eyes were.
“You’re not upset someone is interrupting your vacation?” Why had he asked that?
A slight lift to Margaret’s lips made him eat his words. “Michael and I are friends.”
“With benefits.”
Was Margaret a better actor than her companion? Was she playing him? Val hated that he didn’t know her well enough to trust her.
“All right, Margaret. So long as Mr. Gerard isn’t a known felon or working for any media cooperation, I’ll honor Michael’s request.”
She smiled.
Her grin was contagious and he felt his lips smiling back.
“How old was Gabi when your father passed?”
He found the question off his radar and answered without thinking. “Fourteen.”
“So all her dates had to go through you?”
“I was the man of the house.”
“What a bitch that had to be.”
Val shook his head. “It was.”
“For her. What a bitch for her. No offense, Masini, but you’d be the worst high school principal ever.”
“Didn’t your brothers look out for you?”
“I’m an only child, Masini. A fact you might have known if you’d actually done your background check a little better. Even I know where you were born, what college you went to, and what your major was.”
She turned and started to walk away before her words registered.
Margaret silenced him with one sentence. “You were born in New York, spent summers in Italy before your grandparents passed, went to NYU, my guess is to stay close to home to watch over your mother and sister after your dad died of an early heart attack.”
“How do you—”
“You weren’t the only one doing background checks, Masini.”
With that, Margaret turned and walked away.
“Holy crap, Michael.” Meg walked into the villa cussing.
Michael stood in the kitchen pouring wine into two glasses, the smile on his face just this side of radiant.
“Hey, darlin’. I take it you heard we have company.”
Before Meg could utter a word, a man just a tad shorter than Michael, with a build almost as nice, walked into the room.
“Ryder Gerard, I assume.”
Michael’s guest offered a sheepish smile. “You must be Meg.”
Meg offered her hand, mumbled a nice to meet you, and turned to Michael. “A little warning, Michael.”
“It was a last-minute decision.”
“The island isn’t that big. You could have found me, told me.”
“You weren’t here.”
Both Michael and Meg said, “No.”
Without much thought, Meg moved to the windows and started pulling the shades. “Masini cornered me, asked about your unexpected guest. I played dumb, which wasn’t difficult since I didn’t know what was going on.” She tugged the last blind and turned.
Michael handed a glass of wine to Ryder and pulled another glass from the cabinet. Meg took the wine, though she really wanted a stiff shot of something much stronger, and sat across from Michael and his friend.
When Ryder moved to the far side of the couch, Meg laughed. “Please, Ryder. I’m guessing you’re Michael’s teacher friend.”
Ryder had a soft quality to his voice. “We’re on spring break.”
“That’s convenient. Wait . . .” Hadn’t Michael suggested this week, a different week than the one she had originally suggested before she set up their vacation? “You planned this . . .”
Michael studied the ceiling. “I wouldn’t say planned.”
Meg set her wine on the side table and leaned forward. “Michael!”
“Hoped, OK? When yesterday didn’t result in anything other than a tweet, I called Ryder.”
How could she be mad at the man? “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I’ve found that the least amount of information to the fewest number of people is best.”
“C’mon, Michael. You can trust me. You know that.”
Michael laid a hand on Ryder’s thigh and left it there.
The grin on Michael’s face was a shade off nirvana. “So what’s the plan?” Meg asked. “What do we tell anyone who asks? As much as I might like being a girl in a threesome, I’m not sure that excuse will fly.”