Absolutely Famous (8 page)

From: Donna Ferrero

To: Sydney Allen

Sydney,

Here’s your itinerary and ticket info for Vertigo, London. I hope you’re doing well.

Donna

Attached to the email is an airline ticket to Heathrow leaving in two days. Two days! Jeff didn’t say anything about leaving in two days! What about sketching ideas or browsing design books? I can’t leave that soon, can I?

I open up the attachment with the itinerary and gape at the screen. I’m booked into a one bedroom suite at the Warren Hotel, London for the next sixty days.

Holy crap!

I press my hands into my temples in an attempt to keep myself from coming apart at the seams. What the heck was I thinking? I should have known that Jeff Talley was bullying me into something awful.

I close the email and pace the room, my nerves fraying apart. Suddenly, I feel the overwhelming need to get out of the hotel. It feels like the walls are physically compressing my body. Drew is going to be gone for at least another few hours, and I need to do some serious thinking. My usual way of coping with stress has been stolen from me since the attack, and I need it right now, badly.

Hurrying into the bedroom, I throw on my running clothes and shoes. I add a baseball hat and twist my long hair into a bun, tucking it up under the back. I pull up the hood on my navy blue zip-front jacket and grab my iPod, strapping it to my arm. Moving quickly so I don’t lose my nerve, I throw my phone in my jacket pocket, slide on my sunglasses and head out for a nice long run.

Roughly four miles later I’m running along the English Bay at Sunset Beach Park, listening to Justin Timberlake bring his Sexy Back. The weather is beautiful for early May, mid-60’s and sunny without a cloud in sight. I regret not keeping up with music over the last decade. The playlist Drew made for me shows me just how much I missed out on during my self-imposed exile from the entertainment world.

I feel better than I have since before the attack. It’s my first outdoor run, and my first run over three miles. I’d been easing back into it while my body finished healing. Nobody has recognized me or bothered me. Checking behind me every once in a while, I’ve concluded that no one is following me either. For some reason I’ve always had a weird sixth sense and been able to tell when someone is trailing me and it’s telling me that there’s no one there.

I’ve also been able to clear my mind and think, erasing the anxieties that surround me so I can focus on the job offer in London. I want to go. Getting away from the chaos that’s been surrounding us would be good for me. I’m sick of the paparazzi, the fans, Kiera, whoever is spying on us…

Drew, however, is probably going to lose his shit when I tell him. But I figure that he only has about 3 or 4 more weeks of filming here in Canada and then he can join me. I can even take Evan with me for protection to make Drew happy. The best part is that Leah is in London for the next month or so and the thought of spending time away from the crap with my best friend has pretty much sealed the deal for me.

Grinning and feeling positive for the first time in two months, I head back toward the hotel.

Chapter
12

I turn the final corner, walking to cool down after my six mile run. The amazing high I had been feeling is erased when I see two police cars parked in front of my hotel. An icy tingle starts up my spine, giving me goose bumps all over even though I’m sweaty and panting.

Pulling my hat down and hood up, I duck my head and scurry across the lobby to the elevators. The sickening feeling grows exponentially the closer I get to the suite. When the doors open on my floor and I step out, my suspicions are confirmed.

Two officers are chatting outside the door to my room, Sal standing next to them, listening to every word. I catch snippets as I
drift toward them.

“She was here this morning.”

“No one saw her leave.”

“She never called to say she was leaving.”

Shit, shit, shit
. Drew must have either come back or had Steve check on me and they didn’t find me here. I pull out my phone and check, twenty-two missed calls! I had the volume up on my iPod so I never heard the phone ring. So much for having a rational, adult conversation about London.

Steeling myself for the worst, I lower my hood and take off my sunglasses as I approach. Sal glances up then does an almost comical double take, meeting my eyes with his. His odd movements cause both officers’ heads to snap up and look at me. The female officer greets me as the male speaks into his radio. Sal has already gone into the suite, probably to tell Drew or Steve.

The officer is listening to me explain that I only went jogging. She says something back to me but I don’t hear her, I’m too busy praying that Steve is the one who reported me missing and not Drew. I hear a loud commotion on the other side of the door and I know that Steve isn’t the one coming out to get me.

The door flies open and Drew steps into the hallway, his face full of panic, T-shirt and jeans wrinkled, feet bare, and his hair standing at a hundred different angles off of his scalp.
He’s been running his hands through it from the stress. Stress I caused, because I went for a fucking run.

He looks me up and down, making sure there’s nothing wrong with me. Satisfied, his lips flatten into a tense line and his hands clench and unclench in front of him. I can’t move or speak, pinned into place by his cold stare. Drew spins on his heel and storms into the suite. I hear him ask everyone to leave, making sure to thank the officers for coming.

Steve and Sal ignore me as they pass me in the hall, their eyes fixed on a point somewhere past where I stand. Evan gives me a sympathetic look as he walks by. I’m scared to go into the hotel room.

“Sydney? Are you coming inside?” Drew asks from somewhere in the suite.

I force my legs to carry me over the threshold and into the living area where Drew is sitting. I stand there, unsure what to do or say so I just stare at the hole that he punched into the wall after the dress incident.

“Sit, please,”
He points to the seat across from him.

I slide into the leather chair
. “I only went running, Drew.”

He taps his finger on his lower lip and I can see his jaw tightening under the shadows of his face. Closing his eyes, he breathes deeply and continues running his finger across his mouth, but he says nothing.

“I’m sorry that I worried you.” I sound pathetic, even to my own ears.

“Worried
? Worried isn’t the word I would use.” Drew looks over at me with hard eyes. “Terrified? Destroyed? Sick? Horrified?” His expression changes and I see his tough stare become softer, heartbreaking.

I jump up and land on his lap, squeezing him against me as I cradle his head in my arms. He gives
in and hugs me back, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying closer to me.

“I just wanted to feel normal for a few hours, go running, think some things over. I was going crazy here, Drew! Knowing that you were on the set with your hands all over someone else. I needed to get a piece of me back, the real me!” I wipe tears away, sitting back
to look at Drew.

“There is no normal anymore Syd, especially with me. You know this. You’ve seen it. You’ve experienced it!”
He puts me on the couch and gets up to pace in front of me. “I know you think I’m unreasonable and overbearing, Sydney.” He glares at me, cutting off my response. “It’s because I love you, Syd. I can’t love you and have you putting yourself in danger all of the time. I can’t go through what happened at the premiere again. I won’t do it.”

Drew stops over by the bar and puts his hands on it, facing away from me. His head hangs down, his shoulders stooped, he’s a man defeated.

I stifle a sob, and move to stand behind him. I can’t let him continue like this. I’m slowly destroying this beautiful, vibrant man. I ignore the pain in my gut that’s telling me not to do this. “You won’t have to. I’m going to London for two months to redesign the Warren Hotel nightclub there.”

That gets his attention. Drew whirls around to face me, nearly
knocking me over. “What? You’re going to London?” His expression is blanketed with fear, his eyes frozen and his mouth open in surprise. He swallows several times before continuing. “You can’t go. I can’t keep you safe there.” He lifts his hands and places them on my arms.

“Drew,” I whisper, tears running down my face. “You won’t have to worry about me.”

Understanding creeps up on him. He drops my arms like he’s been electrocuted.

“You’re leaving me.”

“It’s not like that,” I cry, stepping toward him.

“No, don’t.
” He holds his hands up in front of him to keep me back. “You think that leaving will keep me from loving you? From caring what happens to you?”

“It’s only for a couple of months, so we can… so
I
can adjust to my new life. I don’t know how to do this, Drew. I was wrong! I can’t handle all of it at once! Fame, a relationship, coming out of the hole I’ve been hiding in for the last twelve years! It’s all too fast. I’m trying to relearn how to do every single thing that I was avoiding. Every reaction I used to have is suddenly wrong. I can’t trust my instincts anymore!” I stand in front of Drew, begging him to comprehend my situation.

“That’s not what you’re doing, Sydney. You’re doing what you’ve a
lways done. You’re running away.” He slips past me and into the bedroom. Moments later he emerges wearing shoes and his Red Sox hat.

“What are you doing?”

He gets to the door of the suite and speaks with his back to me. “I’m doing what you do, Sydney. I’m leaving.” He turns the knob and disappears, letting the door close quietly behind him.

I collapse in a heap on the floor and cry.

Chapter
13

A faint knock on the door stirs me from my fitful sleep. After Drew stormed out, I showered, crawled into the bed and cried myself to sleep. I’m contemplating getting out of the bed to see who’s knocking, when I hear someone swipe a keycard and enter the suite.

Now fully awake, I leap out of the bed and wrap up in a hotel robe, afraid.

“Drew? Sydney?” I hear someone call out from the other room. In all of the drama, I forgot about my visitor.

“Jane!” I cry and run into the living area, hugging the stunned woman as I break down again.

Jane Hardy is Drew’s longtime personal assistant. In her mid-forties, Jane is like a mother and a sister to Drew all in one short, intimidating, blonde package. Usually she’s completely unflappable, able to carry out any request quickly and without fuss. Right now, Jane is too confused to even hug me back as I clutch her and sob.

“Sydney, what the heck has been going on out here?” she asks from underneath my bone-crushing hold.

I release her from my grip so I can answer. “Everything’s all messed up. I messed it up, Jane. It’s worse than when I called you yesterday.”

She looks at me with kindness and maybe a hint of
sympathy, taking in my red swollen face and haggard appearance, “It can’t be all that bad, Sydney. I’ve seen the photos and videos, and yes, it hasn’t been great. Well, and maybe Drew shouldn’t have attacked that guy on the street but…” She stops when she sees my face crumple and tears start down my cheeks again.

Tugging me over to the couch, she sits me down and brings me a bottle of water and a box of tissues.

“Now, tell me what that boy did this time.”

Shaking, I proceed to fill her in on everything that’s been going on for the last few weeks. I tell her about Drew’s un
relenting anger stemming from his fear of my being hurt, Kiera’s bitchiness and how she wants to break us up, my apparent unwillingness to keep myself safe, being on lockdown at the hotel, the studio wanting Drew and Kiera to be an item, and finally, I tell her that I’m leaving for London to remodel another Warren Hotel nightclub. The only thing I keep to myself are the articles on
CelebCas
t. I don’t want Jane to give Drew anything else to worry about right now, especially if it’s just my imagination that we’re being spied on.

“Oh my, you’re right. I
t is worse than I thought,” she says after I finish speaking.

“I have to go to London, Jane. I need to work. I can’t just sit here in a hotel room worrying about people and situations that I have no control over.”

“Of course you can’t just sit here, Sydney. Drew hasn’t figured out yet that he has no control over any of those things; fans, panic attacks, you. It’s one of the reasons that he’s been single for so long. He likes to have full control over everything important to him. When that attack happened, all of those fears came true while he sat in a room fifty feet away from you, unable to stop it.” Jane sits back on the couch, choosing her next words carefully. “He’s like your dad in that way, I think. He’d rather give you up than keep hurting you.”

A silence stretches between us as I think about what she said.

“But I don’t want to give him up. Is that what I did?” Fear courses through my body as the reality of not being with Drew crashes down. “What have I done.”

“Sydney.
” Jane looks at me with her kind brown eyes. “Go to London. Work, figure out how to be Sydney Tannen, interior designer, grown daughter of celebrities, tabloid target. Then, when you’re done with that you can figure out how to be Sydney, the girl who’s loved by Andrew Forrester.” She smiles and makes little air quotes with her fingers around mine and Drew’s names as she speaks.

“But…”

“But nothing. I’ll stay here and work on your man while you’re gone.”

“What if he doesn’t want me anymore?” I whisper.

“Sydney, I’ve known Drew for over six years. I’ve never, ever seen him in love with anyone. He doesn’t let anyone get close enough. He still wants you, believe me.”

I leap up from the couch
. “I need to change my flight to one tonight, can you arrange it for me? If I see him, I’ll chicken out and stay.” I start to run into the bedroom to pack my things.

Jane grabs my hand before I can leave th
e room. “I’ll take care of everything dear.”

Drew is so lucky to have her
.
Hell, I’m lucky to have her.