Page 105 of Hook Up

“Is this what I think it is? I’ve been served by my own brother. How quaint.” Picking up the envelope, I chuck it on the coffee table. “At least Ryder took the news well, judging by all the photos of him with gorgeous women decorating the internet.”

“Those are stupid promo shots. Trust me, he’s not in a good way, which concerns the hell out of me, considering he’s about to race. But he’s hopeful his list of demands in response to your annulment will help the situation.”

“His list of demands? Greg, I’m broke. I’m living on Mom’s couch. Let me guess, he’s billing me for room and board?” Despite my internal mantra that I won’t crack, the tears roll down my cheeks. “I can’t pay it.”

Greg grabs me about the neck, pulling me to him. “Open the damn envelope.”

Why delay the inevitable, right? Doesn’t matter how long I wait, the contents will remain the same.

With a grunt, I pull it open, scanning the first page. “It’s the agreement Mr. Givens drew up. Doesn’t look like anything is out of order—what the hell?”

Itisthe agreement Mr. Givens drew up, except that my husband has written all over the damn thing. He’s crossed out paragraphs, changed every instance of Greer Hammond to Greer Gray, scribbled no way in hell by the sections where I requested nothing—it’s a mess.

It’s also the most illegal legal document I’ve ever seen.

Flipping to the last page, I see a note from Ryder, penned in his neat hand.

Are you done being mad at me? I told you before, Gigi, I’m not divorcing you. I’ll fight you until the end of our lives and I know I have more money than you do, although you are now debt-free. Yes, I paid off everything.

No way was my wife going to worry over something as trivial as money. Not when she has me to worry about. And I know you do.

I also know you love me, so if you’re willing to give me one last chance, here’s a ticket to California.

I need my cheerleader. I need my wife.

P.S. Tell Greg to give you the other package. Figured I’d sweeten the deal a bit.

“He’s not divorcing me,” I remark with a dry laugh, tears dripping down my nose. “What else do you have?”

With great ceremony, Greg pulls a small box from his pocket. The aquamarine color is unmistakable—Tiffany’s.

I’ve never been inside the store. What was the point? I couldn’t afford anything in there, although I did plan that one day, I’d walk inside and order some grand piece of jewelry, nary a care to the cost.

My heart pounds as I take the box and peek inside.

It’s empty, save for a piece of paper.

If you want it, come get it. Get your gorgeous ass on the plane next to your brother.

“This is Ryder’s idea of romance?”

Greg and my mother exchange a smirk before bursting into laughter.

“I think it’s pretty good, all things considered,” my mother adds, her eyes twinkling. “How can you say no to Ryder Gray? That man has loved you his entire life. Besides, I’m champing at the bit to see that ring.”

“Might not be a ring,” I manage, although I’m right there with her. I’d love to know what was originally in that box, too.

“I think we all know it’s a ring. One so gigantic you won’t be able to lift your hand.”

My mother is trying to maintain a lighthearted atmosphere, but those niggling fears still circle in my head. I was forgotten once before when Ryder got caught up in the glory of his former life. What if second-fiddle is the best I can ever hope for? The little woman at home, waiting for her celebrity husband to grace her with his presence.

That’s not what I had in mind when I said yes to Ryder’s proposal. But maybe the man in Barbados and the man who lost his sight isn’t the real Ryder Gray. Perhaps I envisioned a man who doesn’t exist, created by my fanciful imagination.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t?” Wonderful, now they’re speaking in stereo.

“Mom, I’m so afraid of ending up…” I struggle for the right words, if there are any.

---