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The first time Vincent had appeared somewhere he shouldn’t have been, Tasha had shattered like an egg dropped from a second-story window onto a concrete patio. But now, she drew herself up and shot through the air, elegant and deadly as a thrown dagger.
It was much better to see her in weapon mode than cowering.
With his soldier’s reflexes, Ryan was on Tasha’s heels, with Cole and Maggie right behind.
“What the fuck, Mom,” Tasha said. “What are you doing here?”
Cole shouldered Ryan to the side so they could form a wall of backup together. He wanted Vincent to understand that whatever hemight try to do to Tasha, he was going to have to do it to Cole and Ryan too.
Over Tasha, he could see her mother. The resemblance between mother and daughter—both blonde; both blue eyed; both with lithe, sporty figures—was powerful. So much so, it almost stung.
Despite having several decades on her kid, Beth Russell was still beautiful. Tonight, with her hair piled up on her head in her signature America’s–sex kitten style and a white sequin-spangled dress, she was the embodiment of a MILF. But Cole knew her, and that shattered the illusion. The woman was poison.
“We’re here to celebrate your accomplishment,” Beth said, her voice smooth and innocuous, as if Tasha’s question didn’t make sense. “Yours and Vincent’s.”
Next to Beth, Vincent was smiling as if the crowd were happy to see him. The guy was a decent actor, given that Ryan looked feral and everyone else was stony faced.
“Vincent didn’t do shit,” Tasha said. “Actually—he didlotsof shit. But it isn’t worth celebrating. You need to go.”
“Yes.” Zoya had handed her bottle of champagne off to someone, and she was in full showrunner mode. “This is a closed party.”
“Paid for by the production, and I am the production,” Vincent said.
“Let’s talk about it out in the hall—”
But Tasha interrupted Zoya’s attempt to end this quietly. Looking Vincent directly in the eye, she spit out, “Don’t you realize you’re the shit in the punch bowl? You’re so used to being the most powerful man in the room, you can’t see how things have changed. You don’t have the same kind of clout you once did. You’re not on top anymore. Without the constant string of hits and new Oscars every year, you’re just a creepy, decaying producer, like dozens of others in Holmby Hills. You can’t smother all the whispers, not with social media. It isn’t like in the old days, when the magazines and the papers didn’t want to risk pissing you off. Those whispers are a gathering storm, and you know it.That’s why you’re scared under that suit. So get out—and while you’re running, know I’m done being quiet.”
Vincentdidlook scared, and while Tasha talked, his complexion got greener. Everything Tasha was saying? He knew it was true.
But Beth Russell didn’t seem to understand, or she was better at bluffing. When Tasha finished, she scoffed. “Can you believe I raised such an ungrateful child?”
Tasha shot her mother a lethal glare. “I can’t even look at you. Him? Him I get. I mean, he’s evil, but I understand. He thought he could get away with it. The way you served me up on a platter for him, though? That’s unforgivable.”
“And we’re done.” Zoya stepped in between Tasha and her mother and signaled to security. “Vincent, Beth, please leave.”
The security guys began to approach, but Vincent clearly understood that he’d lost this battle, if not the war, and he tugged Beth along with him toward the door. As he went, he made a hand motion of curt dismissal to Tasha, to Zoya, to the room. But the gesture only seemed pathetic, because he was the one leaving. He was the pimply kid at the door of the club, screaming that he hadn’t wanted to go anyhow when they wouldn’t let him in.
When the door closed behind the monsters, Zoya melted away, conferring with Esme, probably to figure out the security situation and to get herself another big bottle of champagne. This left the little knot of Cole, Maggie, Tasha, and Ryan alone again.
“Do you want me to take care of that?” Cole gestured toward the door. “Or I could back Ryan up while he takes care of it?”
Actually, letting him take the lead seemed like a better idea. Ryan looked as if he was about to explode.
Tasha set a hand on Ryan’s arm. The message was clear:You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to follow the predator.
“No, it’s okay,” she said to both of them. “You’d just get sent to jail.”
“It’d be worth it.” Besides, Cole had an excellent lawyer on speed dial, a relic from his younger and more irresponsible days. The guy could earn his retainer.
“Trust me, he’s definitely not worth it.”
As hard as it was, Cole needed to respect her wishes. Being the bigger person sucked sometimes.
He knew Tasha would want him to keep things light, so Cole said, “You were really impressive. This chapter in your memoir is going to be amazing.”
Ryan, though, wasn’t able to make a joke. His voice was gruff when he asked, “You okay?”
Tasha looked between them. She took a deep breath, released it, and then drained her glass of wine. “I’m actually fine. Good, even. Now it’s a party.”
