Ridge

I Don’t Want To Talk

I can’t believe the audacity of that woman calling me from her brother’s phone number. I was suspicious when I saw the same area code as hers, but as the head of security, I can’t dismiss a call when I’m working. It could have been anyone.

After blocking his number, I make my way downstairs for my daily meeting with Ash in a foul mood. I wasn’t in the best spirits, to begin with, but now I’m pissed.

“Good morning. I forgot to ask you last night, how was your vacation? Not long enough from the looks of you,” Ash says when I enter his office.

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Stella thinks something happened between you and Allison, that true?”

I love Stella but damn it if she isn’t nosey. “I’d rather not talk about it,” I repeat.

“Well, when you’re ready, I’m here.”

“I appreciate that, Ash. Your wife said the same thing last night. I’m not going to want to talk about it, though. Ever.”

“Well, all righty then, cowboy, I’m not one to press, but let me warn ya, my wife is relentless. If you keep moping around like this, she’ll call Allison herself. You know she will.”

I groan and scrub my face with my hand. He’s right. She will, no doubt about it. “I guess I’ll have to put on a fake smile then and make her think I’m just peachy,” I say with a giant fake-ass smile.

He wrinkles up his nose which consequently reminds me of Lydia when she has gas pains. I would laugh if I weren’t so pissed. He shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s gonna work, but you can give it a shot if you want.”

“I want.”

“Okay then, we should get to work then.”

“Thank you.”

We hash out plans for our upcoming NPDES inspection of our water system here on the ranch, and for the rest of my day, my mind is occupied by something other than Allison.

On Tuesday morning, I’m dragging. It’s easy to avoid thoughts of Allison when I’m working during the day, but as soon as I come into my apartment, the memories of our time spent together come flooding back with a vengeance. Everywhere I look she is there—cuddled up on the couch with her head on my lap while we watch Netflix—cooking steak and twice baked potatoes in the kitchen with my arms wrapped around her waist trying to distract her—straddling me in bed with her hands on my chest and her dark hair veiling us while she rides me to climax. It’s maddening, and it’s making me crazy. I can’t sleep, I have no appetite, and I don’t want to be in my apartment.

When I’m showered and have had three cups of coffee, I drag my ass downstairs to Ash’s office. Stella is standing next to him holding Lydia with a look of dread on her face. Her pretty features are all wrinkled up with worry when she looks up at me.

“Morning.”

“Morning, Ridge. I uh, I better check on Cannon and make sure he’s doing his math. I’ll see you for lunch?” she asks Ash.

“Of course, I’ll be in the office today, though, if you need me sooner.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” She scoots past me and out the door without saying goodbye, definitely not like Stella. I don’t like that vibe—she’s nervous like she can’t wait to get out of here.

“What’s with her?” I ask hitching my thumb toward the door.

“Have a seat, Ridge.” Now I’m very nervous. In all the years I’ve worked for Ash, he’s never spoken to me in that tone—authoritative yet sympathetic as if he’s about to give me terrible news.

“What’s going on?”

“I think I know why you came home from your vacation so soon.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Did you and Allison have a falling out?”

I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t out of respect for him. “A falling out is a mild way to put it, but yes, I suppose so. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re on the cover of Realm Magazine this morning, and there is a three-page piece on your life after Livi Fox,” he says turning his computer screen so I can see the latest butchering of my personal life. There I am, a photograph that Allison took of me sitting at my desk hard at work one night when she was trying to coax me out of my office and into bed. It didn’t seem unusual at the time, she took pictures of me doing everything—taking pictures was her thing—and when we were together, I was her favorite subject.

What a complete and utter fool I was to think she was taking them because she had feelings for me and loved me when it was all done to further her career. The picture could have been more damning. I guess I should be grateful she chose this one. She has nudes of me getting in and out of the shower and selfies of us in bed together.

It’s the caption that makes my blood boil—The Noble Hermit – Find Out Where Ridge Noble Has Been Hiding Out All These Years and Why.

Just like five years ago, they’re trying to use my last name in clever ways to attract more readers. I feel like I’ve stepped into a time machine and gone back five years to the days following my acquittal.

“What’s the article say?” I ask not sure I want to know, but knowing I need to so I can begin damage control. I learned to be quite a pro at damage control the first time around.

Ash sighs and pushes the mouse in my direction on the desk so that I can read for myself.

Ridge Noble, the man accused of raping world renowned pop star, Livi Fox, dropped off the radar years ago and hadn’t been seen since. Until now. Realm’s photojournalist, Allison Green, happened upon him working for none other than Ash Pride as his personal assistant and head of security.

Mr. Noble has been keeping the Pride family “safe” for five years. Ms. Green, who has been dating Mr. Noble for two months now, states that he helps supervise Mr. Pride’s young children and is regularly left in charge of them. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want an accused rapist taking care of my children.

The words begin to blur together on the screen when rage encompasses my brain, my bones, my blood, and my soul. I want to take Allison’s pretty little neck and snap it in two for doing this to me, to us, all of us. Part of me has been denying that she could hand over the pictures and the personal details of my life. That part just got a healthy dose of reality.

“That back-stabbing bitch,” I say falling back against my chair. “How can anyone be so fucking conniving? I was going to ask her to fucking marry me, Ash, marry me! I wanted to spend the rest of my life with that monster!” I shove my hands into my hair and pull it trying to rid my mind of the words in the article.

And the pictures that accompanied it—thankfully, they weren’t the ones of us in bed—but they were personal just the same. There is one of me drinking coffee and reading the paper at the kitchen table, another of me playing basketball with Cannon that first day we met, and me rocking Lydia in her nursery. They’re painting me as a child-molesting pedophile for Christ’s sake!

“I was found not fucking guilty! Why can’t they focus on that instead of trying to make me a fucking pedophile? What is wrong with the world?” I yell.

Ash stands up and rounds his desk. He leans on the edge of it and reaches out to place a hand on my shoulder. “We are prepared to sue the magazine and Allison for defamation of character, yours and ours if you truly believe Allison is responsible for this, Ridge. We aren’t going to hang you out to dry. You have us in your corner this time.”

“Well, who else could it be? She’s the only one who knows where I am and what I’ve been doing here. And she took those fucking pictures. It had to be her.”

“Okay, I just wanted to check with you first. I’m going to call my lawyer right now and get the ball rolling. Things move fast when you put a lot of money behind them, and I intend to put a lot of money behind this. They essentially told the world that Stella and I are bad parents who hire perverts to care for our kids. That shit will not slide. Even if you decide not to go forward for yourself, and I don’t know why you wouldn’t, we are filing a lawsuit ourselves.”

I nod my head. I’m speechless. In less than ten minutes, I’ve gone from feeling rage toward Allison to shocked and grateful for Ash and Stella’s support. I didn’t have that last time. I dealt with the fallout alone. The only good thing that came out of that ordeal was being so broke after the trial I had to come home to Montana where Ash hired me and made me part of his family.

I don’t know what to do. I can’t work, I can’t even concentrate on one thought for more than a few seconds before my mind jumps to something else. How could she? Why? How much money did she get? What kind of promotion is worth ruining a man’s life? What’s going to happen to David when she goes down for this? Because she will go down for this, of that, I am sure. Ash is a great guy until you mess with somebody he loves, then he turns into a warrior, fiercely protecting his own. I watched him do it in person when his piece-of-shit father tried to ruin his relationship with Stella by bringing Cannon’s mother back into his life. He nearly pummeled him to death right in the foyer.

“What can I do?” I ask looking up at Ash already weary and drained, and it’s only eight-thirty in the morning.

“I have a suggestion, but I don’t think you’re going to like it,” he says.

“I think the like-it-or-not ship has sailed. What do you want me to do?”

“I think you should call Allison and confirm with her that she was the one who provided Realm with the photographs and the information. I know it seems pretty straightforward, and they name her in the article, but, Ridge, she didn’t seem like the type of person who would do this. Stella and I are good judges of character, and we saw how she was with you. She could be a victim in all of this, too. Please, just call her and ask for her side of the story. I’m going to be honest with you, if you don’t call, I will. I think it will be more effective if you do it, but I’m having a hard time believing this is all her doing. She deserves the chance to defend herself. If she’s guilty, so be it, I’ll go after her with guns blazing, but if she’s not, she might need help as much as you do.”

The text her boss sent was pretty clear, “Get back to me a.s.a.p. with the photo and info on Ridge Noble.” Unless she was just pressuring her to be involved, I didn’t read the rest of the message. And I haven’t exactly given her the opportunity to explain herself. I’ve been so caught up in my anger and hurt, I never once considered that she could be a victim in all of this.

“I’ll call her.”

“Good, you go do that, and I’ll contact my attorney. When you’re done, let me know what you think, and we can move forward from there.”

“Okay.” We both stand, but before I turn to leave, Ash pulls me into a hug and slaps me on the back.

“You’re not alone,” he says.

“Thank you, that means a lot.” More than he could ever know.

Back in my office, the phone is ringing off the hook. I usually handle the media, so all of the calls are routed directly to me. Not today, I forward all calls to voicemail and sit down to make the most important call of all—the call to Allison.