“Hmm.” That’s all Riley could say. While it had never crossed her mind, it didn’t seem farfetched now that Briggs was posing the idea.
“Tell you what,” Briggs said. “I’m not too worried today. But this big event tomorrow—the one you mentioned that she emailed the details about—I want to go as your date.”
Riley sank a little lower in her chair. “Are you sure? I don’t know for sure—all she told me is it’s a benefit she’s holding at her giant estate—but I’m pretty sure she’s going to want me to attend with Rowan Keene. In fact, that’s what I think she’s going to talk to me about when I go over there later this morning.”
Briggs nodded. “I’m sure. Look, I trust you with Rowan. It’s not about that. But that Will Keaton guy gives me a bad vibe. He’s gotta be slimy. Who else would hide in someone’s backyard and spy on them?”
There was no denying that point, Riley thought. Plus, Briggs was always welcome no matter where she went. She never wanted him to think that she was trying to keep him separate from the Hollywood events and functions because he wasn’t part of the industry.
“Daddy, I always want you with me.”
He looked happy to hear that. “And I always want to be with you. Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, I’ll be your date.”
Sadistic glee filled Riley’s eyes. “Rita will hate that!”
Picking up her orange juice, she raised it to the middle of the table for a toast.
He clinked his iced tea against it and they drank.
The angrier Rita got, the better.
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 shadetheir 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.”
