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Max gulps his water and reaches for his phone on the table. After dinner with my parents, I scoured the internet and could only find a few mentions about me getting married in Vegas on some stupid little nothing blogs.
“Nice meeting you,” I say as she walks away.
“You got married? And you’re pitch-forking me over a trip to Europe?” Max’s fingers are flying over the screen.
I didn’t figure people actually read those tiny blogs.
Max’s thumbs stop moving and his eyes scan down the screen. “I thought you were smarter than this.”
I pluck the phone out of his hand.
“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised it’s to Mancini. That man put a wedge in our marriage the size of the Grand Canyon.” He goes back to eating his steak because he doesn’t give one shit that I married Dom as long as the blog doesn’t make him out to be a monster.
“I don’t see why it’s news in the first place.”
“You’re my ex-wife. Did you really think they wouldn’t figure it out? The media combs through every marriage license in Vegas. Either that or they pay off someone who works there. Hell, there’s probably a picture.”
I recall the picture stuffed into my nightstand behind my favorite unicorn vibrator. “The keyword is ex. I should be off the radar.”
“I think once you make it onto the list of names they scan for, you probably never make it off.” He winks again and my stomach hollows out. “Who would’ve guessed you’d be associated with my name your entire life whether we’re legally bound or not.”
The satisfaction he’s gaining from this information is wearing thin.
“It could’ve been you.” If he’d been able to keep it in his pants.
“Nah. You ruined the forever after shit. I’m going Dom’s style. Or at least his old style. Different flavors all the time, wasn’t it?”
Now he’s hitting below the belt. I gulp down the rest of my wine. “Are you insinuating I’m one of his flavors?”
He finally finishes his steak and moves on to his green beans. The man only eats one food group at a time. He’s basically a toddler.
“Don’t get upset. You’re his favorite flavor.” Max shrugs. The waitress comes over, and Max doesn’t even bother asking if I want anything else before he says, “Check.” She walks away and he sets his eyes on me as if he didn’t metaphorically jab me with a knife and I’m not bleeding out all over the floor. “I have to be on set early.”
“We need to discuss this trip.” I don’t budge.
He pulls out his wallet and places his card on the edge of the table. The hell if we’re going dutch when we wouldn’t be here if he’d act like a mature adult and consult me when it comes to Ryder. I’ll let him pay for my meal.
“Go play house with Mancini for a while, and I’ll take Ryder to Europe. See how civil I’m being?” He wipes his mouth again before putting the napkin on the table.
His words remind me that if my son is around all summer, I’ll have to tell him about my impromptu marriage. Dom and I have yet to decide where we’ll live. If Ryder goes away with Max… “You can have Ryder on one condition.”
One of his perfect eyebrows rises. “This should be good.” He leans back with a smirk and folds his arms.
“You take Ryder to Europe, but don’t tell him about Dom and me. Let me have the six weeks to decide how and when to tell Ryder when he gets back.”
He pretends to think it over, his head tilting from side to side and his eyes toward the ceiling.
“Otherwise I say no to taking Ryder, and you know very well what the papers say about taking him out of the country without my permission. I believe it’s called kidnapping.”
“Always a hard bargain with you, Val. Fine. Deal. But don’t blame me if he finds out on his own.”
The waitress returns with a credit card machine, and he puts on his reading glasses to read the screen.
“Please, you’re not that big of a celebrity. It’s not like it’s going to be on Entertainment Tonight or something.”
He looks over the rim of his glasses, testing me, but he knows it’s the truth. “Fine. I’ve already booked the tickets. We’re leaving this weekend.”
The snake thought he had me from the get-go. Was he really willing to lose the money for those tickets?
