Already Famous

by Heather Leigh

  “Miss Allen, Ms. Allen, it’s time.” The PA comes in to get them for their interview.

  I watch Sydney take a deep breath and pretend that she’s not on the verge of losing her shit. “Actually, it’s Miss Tannen now, not Allen.” She smiles at her mom.

  She’s so not ready for this. “Are you ready?” I ask, staring into her eyes to make sure she’s not going to fall apart.

  “Like ripping off a Band-Aid, right?” Her attempt at a joke lets me read her like a book. She looks pale and scared, and she’s shaking.

  Shit! I just want to grab her and run the fuck out of here.

  “Let’s go,” she says to me, sliding her clammy hand into mine for support.

  The closer we get to the stage, the harder she grips me with her trembling fingers. For some asinine fucking reason, Sydney thinks that making this appearance and explaining where she and her mom have been the past twelve years will close the book on this chapter of her life and satisfy everyone’s curiosity.

  Bullshit.

  I know the tabloids these days. They. Will. Not. Stop. No way. This story is too fucking huge, so huge even I remember it happening. Young Sydney Tannen is stalked, attacked, run off the road by paparazzi and almost killed, her mega star dad arrested, then she and her Oscar-winning mom disappear for twelve years? It’s too big to ignore or brush off with one simple interview.

  Then, we’re walking the red carpet next week at my premiere, which is looking more and more like a terrible idea each day. After that, the shit’s going to hit the fan. It’s the mother-lode of stories for these pricks. I thought about going to my premiere alone, leaving her out of it, but I’m selfish. I want here there. I’ve never wanted anyone with me before and now that I have her, I can’t imagine walking it without her by my side.

  I hear Brandon finish up his opening bit. Shit, it’s time. I hug Syd to me and touch her still-flat stomach, rubbing my thumbs in circles. A gentle caress for the baby inside. “I love you Sydney, no matter what.”

  She looks up at me with frightened cobalt eyes, “I love you too, always.”

  And then she’s gone. Walking out on that stage to have her hard won privacy ripped to shreds. She’s already changed her name back to Sydney Tannen, she doesn’t do anything halfway. When she has her mind set on something, there’s no going back.

  I don’t hear or see anything but Sydney as I focus on her from my spot backstage. I make sure to stand where she can find me, in case she needs moral support. Even though I loathe this entire idea and don’t want her out there, I’ll be here for her.

  Sydney takes the seat farthest from Brandon Eastlake, the host of the very popular Late Night Report. I’ve met him several times before, having done his show for every single movie release I’ve had. He’s charming and funny onstage which gets him huge ratings, but he can be a slimy prick with the women he meets.

  Syd’s shaking like a leaf. It’s subtle, but I can see that she’s sitting on her hands to hide it from the cameras and the audience.

  “So Sydney, how did it feel when you found out that your parents planned their split to get you away from L.A. and all of the trauma that you suffered?” Brandon asks after speaking with Evangeline for a few minutes.

  Sydney’s sweet face crumples and she looks like she’s about to cry.

  Mother fucker! I could literally punch him for putting that look on her face. I have to breathe deep and clench my fists to control the overwhelming need I feel to protect her.

  “Well Brandon,” she begins, her small voice breaking on the words. “It gave me closure. All of the pain I had felt about leaving L.A. and losing my dad, it made sense. It was a huge sacrifice that both of my parents made for me, and I love them for it.”

  I can tell she’s struggling to keep the tears back. Her mom takes her hand and squeezes it, putting a small smile on my girl’s face. Shit, that should be me out there comforting her. I feel castrated, standing on the sidelines like a useless asshole while she relives all of the shit she’s been through.

  “I heard a rumor that you don’t own a TV? Is that true?” Brandon asks her.

  A gorgeous pink blush stains Sydney’s cheeks and she lowers her lashes in embarrassment. “Yes, it’s true.”

  “So, have you ever seen my show?” Brandon leans over his desk so he can see her better. Fucker.

  “I’m afraid I haven’t, Brandon. I actually had no idea who you were until the other day when we were booked on your show,” Syd admits with a shrug. The audience laughs at Brandon’s dumbfounded face.

  Ha! Egotistical prick! She didn’t know who I was either, so don’t take it personally.

  “Sydney, you’ve hurt my feelings,” Brandon jokes.

  “Well Brandon, I guess I’ll have to get a TV just so I can watch you,” Syd says with a giggle.

  The audience eats that shit up. Me, I’m seeing fucking red. That ass Eastlake flirting with my girl in front of millions of people.

  The interview wraps up and I hurry to meet Syd in the green room, unsure if she’ll still be a shaking mess.

  I storm into the room and find her standing near the couch with a bottle of water in her hand. Needing the contact with her, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close, kissing the top of her head and burying my face in her hair.

  “You did great babe,” I whisper.

  The door opens again and Brandon Eastlake’s voice grates on me like nails on a chalkboard. He’s talking to Eva while I have my back to him, so I can’t see his face.

  “Sydney! You did great!” Brandon walks over to us and stops dead in his tracks when he sees me glaring at him, his phony smile wiped off of his face. “Forrester? What are you doing here?”

  Well, what I really want to do is punch the shit out of you for making my girl feel uncomfortable and for flirting with her.

  I turn and put my arm around Sydney’s waist and pull her to me. Territorial asshole, I know, but I recognize the look in Eastlake’s eyes and I know his reputation.

  “I’m here with my girlfriend, of course,” I say smoothly. I don’t miss the shock, then the disappointment in the prick’s eyes the exact second he figures out that he has no chance adding Sydney to his list of conquests.

  “Wow, well… uh… how come you didn’t want to do the interview with her?” he asks, still clearly annoyed by my cockblocking existence.

  “Today was about Sydney and Eva, not me.”

  “I just didn’t want the media to go crazy, you know. I wanted to keep it focused,” Syd says, trying to lower the tension between Eastlake and me by changing the subject.

  I tense up. She’s still in complete denial over how much of a shitstorm this interview is going to cause. She thinks it’s going to be a one and done thing. She’s so wrong.

  Brandon attempts some small talk with me about football, but I’m still too pissed off at him and this entire situation to do more than snap back responses as Sydney sneaks away to talk to her mom.

  Today, the fucking nightmare begins.

  “I just need to get a few things from my place, Drew. It won’t take long.”

  “Syd, we can’t go to your place, it’s going to be a clusterfuck of paparazzi. I’ve told you this.” She is still in denial. Thirty million people watched the Eastlake show last night, a new record for late night talk shows. I know she’s not naïve enough to think her life will be the same as before, but her idea of how this is going to play out is not anywhere close to reality, not even the same universe.

  “Stop being so negative,” she snaps at me.

  I frown and lower the partition. “Bruce, we need to swing by Sydney’s loft first.” I turn to her, “Happy?”

  She smiles and curls into my side, “Very.”

  Fifteen minutes after leaving Teterboro, Bruce attempts to pull onto Sydney’s street. And can’t. Because there are no fewer than ten white news vans with satellite dishes sticking up off of them parked all along the road and sidewalks. I can see her building halfway down the block and th
e massive crowd of people clogging the walkway out front.

  Clenching my teeth, I lower the partition again, “Bruce, home. Now!”

  “What? Why?” Sydney sits up straight and looks outside. Her hand flies up to her mouth and every bit of color drains from her skin. “Oh.”

  I pull her back in a desperate attempt to shield her from the terrifying sight. “It’s okay Syd. You’ll stay with me. They don’t know about us and won’t know to look there. Either way, I want you with me so I know you’re okay.” I can feel her small frame shaking against my chest. Fuck! This is exactly why I didn’t want her to do that interview. Her life will never be the same and this stress can’t be good for the baby.

  Who the fuck am I kidding though? Next week, after she walks that premiere with me, it’s going to be the same shit as this. Either way, we have to get used to the new normal for her, and for us. My days of only finding a random photo of myself buying fruit in the tabloids are almost over.

  “We’ll send Bruce and Leah to get your stuff, Syd.” I squeeze her knee in support.

  She doesn’t answer me, her new reality is finally starting to sink in. She’s scared as hell and there’s nothing I can do to make it better. I really hate that.

  I should have insisted that she not do that fucking interview.

  We drag our stuff into the brownstone and Sydney immediately disappears upstairs. “Bruce, you can go, but be here tomorrow at ten, I’ll need a favor.”

  “Sure thing Drew, see you then.”

  I head to the bedroom and find Sydney staring out the windows, her forehead pressed to the glass. Quietly, I cross the room and stand behind her, leaving just an inch of space between us. I’m not sure if she wants my comfort or if she wants to be alone.

  “I…I guess I had no idea…”

  The hitch in her voice stabs me right in the heart. I close the gap between us and pull her back to my chest, running my nose up her soft neck and curl my arm around her belly protectively.

  “It will be okay… eventually, Syd. They can’t stay there forever.”

  Shit, I can’t even convince myself.

  “Look at me, Sydney.” Reluctantly, she turns towards me, her hands hanging limply at her sides. Defeated. I tilt my head and put my forehead to hers, holding her face in my hands. “We. Will. Be. Fine. I won’t allow you to live in fear. This… this crap? We’ll just have to find a way to adjust, okay?”

  I carefully watch her, the way her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, her pouty lips pulled into a frown. She brings her arms up to my chest and slides them around my neck, “Okay, Drew. For you, for us, I’ll be stronger.”

  Her words suck the breath out of my lungs. “Baby, you’re the strongest person I know.”

  While Syd takes a shower, I pull out my laptop and check my emails and other work commitments. My parents and sister got the conformation for the airline tickets I purchased and will meet us at the hotel before the premiere. They’re beyond excited to meet Sydney, I’ve never introduced a girl to them before, so this is huge.

  Jane has been keeping up with work stuff, so there’s not a whole lot to do. I’ve already sent her to L.A. to have every major designer send a dress for Sydney to choose from. I want her to feel beautiful standing beside me on the red carpet.

  Bored, I do something I hardly ever do. I pull up Google and do a search.

  Sydney Tannen Interview

  Enter

  Holy shit, the amount of information is staggering. I click on Brandon Eastlake’s homepage and see a few photos and a video of the interview. I’ve already seen that so I go back and skim through the list of trashy blogs and real news sites and read their headlines.

  Evangeline Allen and Sydney Tannen Reemerge After 12 Years in Seclusion

  nbcnews.com- After shunning Hollywood over a decade ago, Oscar winning actress Evangeline Allen and Sydney Tannen, her daughter with recently crowned Oscar winning actor Reid Tannen, came out of hiding…(12 hours ago)

  Sydney Tannen Breaks Down Over Broken Childhood

  celebcast.com- Shaken and teary, the daughter of Hollywood royalty Sydney Tannen breaks down during her interview on Late Night Report. Reminiscing about the near-fatal car crash….(6 hours ago)

  Sydney Tannen the Perfect Combination of Reid and Eva?

  gossiphound.com- We all knew that any child of gorgeous stars such as Evangeline Allen and Reid Tannen would be beautiful. But who could have dreamed up a vision like Sydney Tannen?

  She appeared on Late Night Report last night, watched by an estimated record-breaking 30 million viewers, and stunned everyone by being a complete knockout. Wearing a form-fitting, navy Burberry dress with strappy stilettos, the beautiful redhead won over the hearts of the audience, and the fantasies of the men who watched.

  We’re wondering how this hot, sexy girl managed to stay hidden for so long. You would think with a face like that, a body for sin, and those lips! Well, we just don’t equate hidden away from what we’ve seen!

  What. The. Fuck!

  I admit, I imagined all kind of fucked up shit happening after Syd did that interview, but other men ogling her and lusting after her wasn’t something that ever crossed my mind. In hindsight, I’m an idiotic asshole. Of course men are going to want her, she’s fucking gorgeous, but seeing it in print, in such a crude manner? Rage isn’t the word for it.

  And because I’m a stupid bastard who loves to torture himself, I click on the comments section of the last article.

  Bigdaddy12- Fuck yeah! She’s hot enough to fuck without a bag on her head or on my dick!

  Roman27- I’d even let her spend the night and make me breakfast after fucking her!

  JessiePrinceSpider- No clothes, leave on the spike heels. I’ll even be nice and pull your hair for you baby!

  CelesteThornton00- You guys are pigs! Nasty pieces of shit. Leave her alone.

  Ronniebigman- All I got to say is those lips, my cock. Nice.

  I can’t read anymore, my vision has gone red, pure undiluted rage coursing through my veins and burning me from the inside. Every muscle in my body is twitching to pound the fuck out of something or someone for that vile shit. Clenching my fists isn’t going to work this time, neither is breathing deep.

  Fuck. Me.

  Standing up, I grab the laptop and crack it over my knee until it splits in half. Holding the two broken pieces, I throw them as hard as I can against the wall, watching the halves bounce off and scatter across the room. I still don’t feel any better, the urge to throttle someone for disrespecting my girl running hot and raw at full speed.

  “Drew? What are you doing?”

  Startled, I look up from where I’m stomping on the shattered remains of the computer and see Sydney, dripping wet, wrapped in a towel, and looking scared to death. Of me. The fury drains from me when I see the expression on her face.

  Damn.

  Kicking the remnants of my laptop aside, I walk over to Sydney. She takes a step back, her eyes wide, shifting from me to the broken computer.

  It kills me that she’s afraid of me.

  “Babe, I’m fine. I’m sorry. I just…” I bring my hands up to fist my hair and drop my head back to stare at the ceiling. “Shit.”

  “What happened?” she whispers, still keeping her distance.

  I can’t look at her, I’m too ashamed her having seen that behavior. Especially the fact that I’d do it all over again every fucking time.

  With a sigh, I lower my hands and look at the floor. “I read an article about you. About the interview.” I pause, eyeing her reaction. “Specifically, about how you looked… physically.”

  “Okay…” she sounds confused.

  “There were comments… from men.” I inhale deeply and look up at her. She sees my face and her eyes get even wider. I must still look pissed. I am still pissed. “Let’s just say that they need to have my foot put in their disgusting asses and leave it at that.”

  Sydney’s eyes narrow, then she takes a step toward me and smiles. What?<
br />
  “You’re so sweet, getting all caveman and protective of me.” She reaches up and runs her hand down my cheek. “Maybe no more computer for a while, what do you think?”

  Unable to help myself, I smile back at her and tug her hips against mine. “What do I get in exchange for agreeing to that?” Still smiling, I lean down and skim my mouth down her neck and nip at her shoulder.

  “I can think of something,” she says as she lets her towel fall.

  CHAPTER 29

  “Wait here, I’ll jump out and get you all checked in.” I watch as my manager, Quentin, hops out of the car and darts into the Sunset Marquis.

  “I don’t understand why we can’t just check ourselves in,” Sydney pouts on the seat next to me.

  She’s so funny, and still in complete and total denial. Laughing, I answer her. “Syd, you and I cannot just waltz into a hotel in Hollywood and stand around the lobby. Unless you want a riot to start.”

  Her eyebrows pull together, twisting her face into an adorable grimace and she grunts at me. She’s so fucking cute when she’s in a bad mood, and my excitement is starting to get on her nerves. I’m so fucking thrilled to have her here with me, going to my premiere tomorrow to let the world know that she belongs to me, that I’m riding an incredible high.

  I can’t keep my hands off of her, even though I know it’s starting to piss her off. It appears that, it pays to be persistent, because I slide my hand up her shirt for about the millionth time today, and this time, she’s too annoyed to swat at me. Before she can change her mind, I take advantage of her weak moment and yank down one side of her bra and run my hand over one perfect breast.

  Sydney takes in a sharp breath and my already uncomfortable erection turns to steel at the mewing sound she makes. I pull up her shirt and tilt my head down so I can lave on her tight bud until she starts to pant and squirm on the seat.