Absolutely Famous (7 page)

Chapter
9

We get in late from filming, both of us exhausted. It’s been a long twenty-four hours. With the incident outside the restaurant, Kiera trying to bait me with her words, and the fight between me and Drew in the hotel room, we’re both pretty wiped out.

“Shower with me?” I ask Drew once we say goodnight to Steve and shut the door behind him.

His tired eyes dart up to mine, I see uncertainty in them.

“Just a shower, babe, I’ll scrub your back for you.” He hasn’t touched me since before we left for our ill-fated date. Not that we’ve had tons of time alone or anything. Last night, Drew was just too angry and too drunk.

“You go, I’ll get one later,” he says in an emotionless voice. Drew heads into kitchen, grabs a bag of ice from the freezer and sits on the couch with it pressed against his bruised knuckles
, checking his phone with his other hand.

I swallow nervously, forcing back the tears that I feel creeping up behind my eyelids
from his rejection. “Okay,” is all I can manage as I flee for the bathroom where I can fall apart in private.

Drew is still out in the living room when I finish getting ready for bed. I can’t take another
dismissal, so I don’t bother asking him if he’s joining me. Instead I grab my purse from where I discarded it on the floor near the closet and pull out my phone. I need help. I can’t deal with all of this by myself and I start to feel the panic rising from my chest. I quickly skim through the contacts and take a deep breath before dialing.

“Sydney?” T
he voice on the other end is confused by my phone call. Especially since the difference in time zones puts it squarely in the middle of the night on the East Coast.

“Hey, I think you need to fly out here tomorrow. We need, well, we’re going to need your help
.”

“I saw what happened on the evening news. He won’t take my calls. He won’t take Quentin or Rhys’ calls either,” the person responds. So, they didn’t get to yell at him about fighting a fan on the street.

“I know, it’s …things aren’t going well,” I say miserably. “I’m really at a loss here. I seem to be making things worse, not better. I was hoping you could help me turn it around for Drew. He’s so angry all of the time.”

I hear a long sigh come a
cross the earpiece of my iPhone. “Anything, Sydney. I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. I was going to be coming in next Monday anyway.”

“Thanks, I’ll be waiting here for you.” I click off the phone and toss it onto the floor.

Snuggling up under the covers alone, I cry myself to sleep.

Chapter
10

I wake up early the next morning. Too early. It’s still pitch black out. I peek over at the clock on the nightstand,

5:53am

Wonderful. I turn to wrap my arms around Drew and find a big empty space. Sitting upright, I notice that the covers are rumpled some. So he was in the bed with me at some point.

I get out of bed, pull on one of the fluffy hotel robes and head into the bathroom. I stand staring at the girl in the mirror. I look like complete crap. I have dark circles under swollen puffy eyes, my hair ratty and tangled from showering and going straight to bed last night, even my skin is pale and unhealthy looking. Pulling the robe tighter I quickly freshen up and get ready to see if Angry Drew is still with me or if I have my sweet, loving boyfriend back.

Checking every room in the suite, I come to the conclusion that Drew isn’t here. I know his call time with that skank Kiera Reynolds isn’t until nine o’clock. I call his cell and it goes to voice mail. I disconnect, pissed off at him for leaving.

Where the hell could he be?

Huffing loudly, I have no idea what to do with myself. I’m antsy as hell and need something to occupy my wandering mind. Spinning on my heel I snatch the hotel phone off of the side table and dial.

“Hello,” a muffled voice answers.

“Steve?”

“No, it’s Evan. What can I do for you Miss Tannen.” He sounds more awake now.

“Evan, I’d like to go for a run, and before you tell me that
I’m not allowed, I’m well aware,” I snap. Drew has banned my outdoor runs since the incident, and I need my exercise. “Would you accompany me down to the hotel gym so I can use the treadmill?” I ask as sweet as possible.

No way am I going to make things worse by going anywhere without protection or worse, going for my usual long run through the city streets like I’ve been dying to do. Drew would have an absolute coronary, although, I notice that
he’s
not restricted to the hotel suite like I am, nor did he let me know where the hell he went this morning.

Someone didn’t try to kill him either, dummy.

“Sure thing, Miss Tannen, when do you need me?”

“I’m getting dressed right now, is fifteen minutes enough time?”

“Yes, I’ll be at your door.”

“Thanks, Evan.
” I hang up the phone.

Twenty minutes later Evan is ushering me through the glass doors of the posh hotel gym. I didn’t expect anyone else to be here this early, but across the huge gym past all of the equipment, I see two shirtless men in protective headgear sparring each other, throwing vicious punches non-stop.

Ignoring them, I grab the nearest treadmill and pop my ear buds in, cranking up the modern playlist that Drew so thoughtfully put on my iPod. He decided that my decade long shunning of any new music needed to stop, and compiled a list of his favorites for me. I set the treadmill to a pretty good pace and watch the two men fight as I run to the sounds of Maroon 5.

As I observe them hit and kick each other, I notice Steve come out of the men’s locker room and stand next to where the men are sparring. Suddenly nauseous, I feel a prickle of fear run up my neck and plunge down into my stomach.

Slowing my treadmill so I can focus better, I look right at the two men. With a sickening feeling spreading through me I realize that I recognize the torso of the man who is currently on top of the other, pounding on him over and over again with his fists. It’s only when I see Steve jump in and yank them apart that my brain registers that Drew is the man beating the shit out of his sparring partner.

I hit the kill switch on the treadmill and pull out my ear buds, approaching Drew cautiously as he catches his breath. Glancing at the man on the floor, I see that he’s removed his protective headgear. It’s Drew’s fri
end and trainer, Damien Spader.

I kno
w Drew had him flown in from New York to train with him for the film, but they usually only work at the gym on the studio lot. Drew isn’t supposed to spar when he’s filming. He said the studio told him it gives him too many bruises and injuries to cover up, and he could break something important and put filming on hold. Damien seems okay, angry but no blood, so I focus on Drew.

“What’s going on? Why did you leave the room without telling me?” I ask.

Drew’s eyes dart around and he reminds me that we aren’t alone. “Not here, Sydney.” Turning from me he grabs a towel and wipes the sweat out of his eyes.

“Then upstairs, Forrester. Now,” I say in a low, angry voice.

He spins around with wide eyes, surprised by my demand. Did he think he wasn’t affecting me with his standoffish bullshit? He can’t be that stupid.

“Fine
. Grab our gear and bring it up,” he barks at Steve. “I’ll see you on set tomorrow Damien.” Damien waves, pretending not to notice the tension between me and Drew.

Drew turns and grips my arm tightly, hurrying me out of the gym and to the elevators. Pissed off, I grab his hand and pry his fingers loose.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I whisper angrily. “I didn’t do anything to you, so stop punishing me.” Now I’m the one who’s fuming,
and
he made me skip my run which I desperately need to stay sane.

The elevator signals its arrival and when the doors slide open, it’s empty. I stomp in and Drew follows. He stabs the button for our floor and spins around, his arms on the wall on either side of my head, his tape-wrapped hands inches from my face.

“I don’t know, Sydney. I have all of this …this
anger
at our situation and I don’t know how to deal with it.” He closes his eyes and I see his jaw clenching. “It’s not that I’m angry with you, I just can’t stomach the thought of something happening to you again. I won’t allow it.” His beautiful mouth just millimeters from mine. “But I can’t stop it either, and it’s fucking killing me!” he says, the cords of muscle in his neck bulging from stress.

“Your anger is going to affect your performance.”

“Fuck my performance!” he yells, causing me to cower in the tight space.

Then, without warning, he roughly grabs my face and pins me to the wall. Pressing his half naked, sweat-covered body against mine, he kisses me with a passion that I haven’t felt from him before, imposing, forceful and very determined.

“Sydney,” he whispers against my mouth. “I need to have you.”

I reach around him and grip his hard ass, pulling him closer to me. I can feel his thick erection through his silky gym shorts and I instinctively grind my body against it.

The elevator doors open and Drew slides his hands under me, lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and cling to him, never breaking the precious contact between our hungry mouths. Somehow, he gets the keycard out of his pocket and flings the door to the suite open. He carries me in, kicking the door shut behind us.

Drew doesn’t stop until we’re in the bedroom. He jerks his shorts down around his ankles with one hand and sits on the bed with me still draped around his muscular torso. His need to claim me is out of his control.
Settling me on his lap, Drew reaches between us and seizes my thin spandex shorts at the crotch, tearing them apart as if they were made of paper. Roughly yanking aside my thong, he impales me with a single swift movement, not asking but taking.

“Shit, Syd,” he moans into my mouth.

It’s so intense I can’t speak, instead stroking his angular face with my hands as our tongues dance.

He moves his large, taped hands to my waist and begins forcing me up and down on his cock, slamming to the
hilt with each powerful downward thrust. He needs this to reassure him that I’m safe with him. To reassure him that we’ll be okay and I’m more than willing to let him get that comfort from me.

Within minutes I feel the delicious burning beginning deep inside my core and spreading outward. Sensing it, Drew clutches me even more forcefully to his chest, wrapping his arms completely around me as he rocks me aggressively
back and forth across his lap.

He presses his sweaty forehead down to mine, eyes closed in ecstasy and I watch his beautiful face as it contorts with pleasure; his lips swollen from my kisses, cheeks flushed from exertion, his teeth clenched as he concentrates on every feeling of our desperate lovemaking.

My breathing hitches as the sensations crest, my sex pulsing around him. Drew’s eyes fly open, the green blazing with desire, the brown darker than usual, staring me down as I reach my peak. Fire rushes throughout my body, flowing into him as he pulls me down even harder, groaning in pleasure. He releases into me, our slick fluids joining as the sounds of our hedonism fill the room.

I collapse on his shoulder panting, and feel Drew skim his lips up and down my neck, whispering his love for me as he holds me to him. We’re so good together, it shouldn’t be so difficult. In this moment nothing else matters; not the fans, not Kiera, not the cameras, not the g
ossip. Only me. Only him. Only us.

Brushing my hair back from my face, Drew loosens his arms from around my small frame, urging me to look at him. I lift my head from its resting place against his warm neck and we lock eyes once more.

“I love you, Sydney.” He grazes small kisses along the corners of my mouth.

“I love you too. We’ll be okay, right?” I ask in a broken voice, willing myself not to cry.

“Yeah, we will.”

I hope he’s right because I have a nagging feeling that
we can’t go on like this.

Chapter
11

I nervously tap my fingers on the arm of the sofa, trying for the millionth time to reach my mother
on the phone. Voicemail, again. Damn!

I was hoping to talk to her, anything to distract me from the destructive thoughts that have been torturing me all day. Drew, filming scenes with Kiera today. Kissing scenes. Nearly naked, fake orgasming, all-consuming love scenes.

For the first few hours of the morning, I laughed at the thought of them in front of the camera. Drew didn’t shower this morning, and after his workout with Damien and then our own private workout, he was pretty ripe. I think of how wicked he sounded when he whispered to me that he wanted the smell of me on him all day, especially if he was going to have to pretend to like being touched by someone else. Kiera was definitely in for a noseful today, and that made me giggle.

But now it’s not all that funny anymore. If it were anyone but her, I think I’d be okay with it. Well, as okay as you can be when your boyfriend has to simulate sex with other people for a living. Kiera hates me though, and her misguided grudge is not something I take lightly. She wants Drew and has the potential to be a conniving bitch.

I jump out of my skin when my phone rings in my hand where I’m clutching it in a death grip.

“Hello.” I’m
trying to control my shaky voice.

“Sydney? Is that you?”

“Yes, who’s this please?” I don’t recognize the man’s voice.

“It’s Jeff Talley, from the Warren Hotel Group. How are you?”
He sounds way too excited.

Jeff Talley wasn’t my favorite person in the world a few months ago. He was the project manager for the interior design remodel that I did for his hotel chain’s flagship nightclub in New York City. He strong-armed me into going to the nightclub launch party with Adam Reynolds, who I knew casually from Leah’s coffee shop.

I had no idea when we were hanging out that Adam was an internationally known rock star. Adam, however, knew that I was in charge of the remodel because we had discussed it before. He called me out on the pages of GQ magazine then had his agent arrange with Jeff for me to be his date.

No one seemed to care that I had a boyfriend at the time, not Jeff and not Adam. Kiera Radcliff certainly cared though. She’s Adam’s ex-girlfriend and was downright hostile to me when I showed up with him for the party at Verve. I haven’t forgiven Jeff yet for forcing my hand like and causing trouble for me.

“Jeff, I’m fine. How are you?”

Why is he calling me? I should have changed my phone number.

“Well, Sydney. I have news for you.”

God!
I can just see him smirking on the other end of the line because he knows something that I don’t. It makes me want to scream.

“Oh, and what news would that be Jeff?” His news is never the kind of news I like.

“The Warren Hotel Group loves what you did with Verve so much that they are going forward with another nightclub redesign. Ben Walton has asked for you personally.”

Ben Walton is the CFO of the entire worldwide Warren Hotel Group. I like the older man immensely and I’m flattered that he wants me to redesign another one of their nightclubs. Maybe work is what I need to keep my mind busy. I could sketch and come up with ideas while I’m in Vancouver, then work on it once D
rew’s done filming. Maybe Drew could come with me to whatever city the hotel is in.

“Sydney?” Jeff interrupts my errant daydreaming.

“What? I’m sorry. Jeff, that’s wonderful to hear. I’m thrilled that Mr. Walton was impressed with my work. I can’t believe he would want to do another nightclub so soon after the first. And to think he wants me to redesign the next one as well, I just don’t know what to say.” I’m babbling, my thoughts coming faster than I can speak. Even though the party was a bust for me, working on the nightclub was a dream come true. Doing another one would be unbelievable.

“Yes, well,” Jeff clears his throat,
obviously hesitant to continue. “Would you be up for the job? You know, I mean, what with everything that’s happened since we last saw you?”

I tense up. Jeff is referencing the incident at Drew’s premiere. The incident that will come up in just about every conversation I have for the rest of my life. I close my eyes and breathe in deep. Ben Walton is probably just worried about me. He sent flowers to the hospital and called to check on me. I never returned anyone’s phone calls, too depressed about the miscarriage to speak to anyone if I didn’t have to.

“Ummm, yes I’m fine Jeff. I’d be up for the job,” I answer as calmly as I can.

Don’t cry Sydney, and definitely don’t yell. You want this job. You need something to do so you don’t go crazy.

“You know Sydney, after the party, I saw you on
Late Night Report
and found out who your parents are. Then I heard from my wife that you were dating Hollywood big shot Andrew Forrester. When she told me that, everything made sense. I finally knew why you weren’t impressed with the different celebrities or interested in dating Adam Reynolds,” he laughs.

The fucker actually laughs!

Jeff is one of those people who loves celebrity. He loves being around it, associated with it, the name dropping, the schmoozing, all of it. I hate it. The way Jeff gets when he’s talking about someone famous that he encountered, like it makes him special or better, makes me want to slap his smug smile into next week.

He’s probably been dying to ask me about Drew.
Honestly, he’s probably pissed that I never introduced them, not that I knew at the time that Drew was a celebrity. Even if I did, I still wouldn’t have told Jeff anything.

“Yeah, well, like I said before, I don’t like Hollywood and I don’t care about celebrities. That still stands Jeff, whether people know who I am or not
.” It’s easy for Jeff to think being famous is so great when he hasn’t had to live with the pain it brings.

“I still think it’s crazy Sydney, to come from such a famous Hollywood family and not want to live the life. I’d be screaming it from the trees if I were you
.”

Yes, I know you would. Ass!

“Anyway, I’ll email you the details and then you can arrange everything with my secretary Donna. She’ll get you set up with travel arrangements and a suite at the hotel so you can be on site as often as you need to.”

“Jef
f, which hotel did Ben choose?”

“Oh, Ben did
n’t choose, he let me,” he says with a hint of contempt in his voice. “I chose Vertigo, at the Warren Hotel in London, of course.”

Of course
he did.

An hour later my laptop pings, letting me know I have a new email. After pacing around the suite since talking to Jeff, I race over to the desk in the living area to see if it’s from Donna. Finally! I sit down and click the envelope.