Absolutely Famous (Famous Series)

by Heather Leigh

  He studies my expression for a minute, his intense green eyes studying my face. Then he relaxes into the bed and kisses me back, pulling me to him and wrapping his arms around me. My poor boyfriend, so worried about me all the time.

  “That was beyond intense. You always surprise me, Sydney.”

  “Yeah, well… I guess I was just really needy tonight.” I try to shrug casually but fail, feeling the prickly heat of a blush creeping up my neck.

  “You’re so cute, even after you try to take advantage of me.” He kisses my nose and curls up behind me, resting his arm on my hip.

  Try to take advantage?

  Forrester, I got exactly what I wanted, advantage taken.

  Chapter 3

  “What?”

  My head is spinning in disbelief. I decided to call Leah and catch up while Drew is getting his things ready for his meeting tomorrow. I was expecting some fun girl talk, not for her to drop a bomb like this on me.

  “You heard me, I’m going to London with Ryker Bancroft while he films the second movie in the Quantum Stranger trilogy,” Leah says.

  I pull my iPhone away from my ear and stare at it as though it might start laughing, telling me that Leah’s only joking. Great, so now I’m looking to inanimate objects to help my life make sense.

  “When the hell did this happen?” I stammer. “I’m completely lost here. You’re not only dating Ryker Bancroft, you’re going away with him to a foreign country for over a month? What about the café?” This is insane!

  “I hired my cousin’s management company. She’s got people I can trust to run the money part, and my classmate from culinary school is taking over the baking part,” she explains. “I haven’t had a proper vacation in a long time, Syd. Since I started the café.”

  “But what about Ryker? How did this happen?” I am stunned at this revelation.

  “We exchanged numbers at the opening of Verve. I didn’t see him for a few weeks after that, what with you taking off and me having to babysit a world famous superstar in the midst of a complete meltdown and all.”

  She’s never going to let me live that down. But in her defense, Angry Drew can be a bastard. He was probably horrible to deal with.

  “He called while I was in L.A. to see you.” She hesitates, not wanting to upset me by referencing the attack on me by a crazed stalker at Drew’s movie premiere. “I called him back when I got home, and we’ve been kind of seeing each other ever since.”

  At the Verve nightclub launch party, Leah had dragged me over to meet the man starring in the movie versions of her favorite sci-fi books. She was giggling like a nervous teenager when she met the boyishly attractive Ryker Bancroft. He seemed nice enough to me, but when he mentioned that I looked an awful lot like Evangeline Allen not knowing that she’s my mother, I panicked and left her there with him. Apparently, they hit it off.

  “He lives in New York?” I feel like a crappy friend for not knowing who my best friend is dating.

  “Yep, he grew up in L.A. and hates Hollywood and all the bullshit. Just like you and your man,” she states proudly. “Has a place on the Upper East Side, right near all of the great shopping!”

  I roll my eyes, Leah and her shopping. Going to any store with her is an absolute nightmare. I should know, somehow I always get roped into joining her whenever she has to buy a new dress for some big event or another. I usually end up wanting to poke myself, or her, in the eye with a stiletto.

  “You really like him? As in Ryker, not whatever character is it that made you act like such a fangirl at Verve?”

  Leah has never dated anyone famous before, so I want to make sure she isn’t just into the role he plays. Not like I have dated famous people, well, I have, but I didn’t know Drew was famous when we started dating, so I just treated him like a regular guy. And with my famous parents, I’ve got plenty of experience with people thinking that the real life person is the same as the character they portray, and nothing could be further than the truth. Leah is no star-fucker though, so I have to believe that she really likes him.

  “Syd, I know what you’re doing. And yes, I like Ryker, not Orion Donovan. So you can chill out.”

  “I have no idea what an Orion Donovan is, but I assume it’s his character’s name in the movie. Just looking out for you, Leah. You know I love you. If he’s what you want then go for it.” I have to support her in this, she’s been nothing but loyal to me over the last dozen years.

  “Thanks, Syd. I’ll miss you these next couple of months. With you in Vancouver and me in London, we’ll be half a world apart.” Leah starts sniffing and I panic, not wanting to get emotional.

  “Oh God, don’t get sappy on me. I’ve cried so much over the last few months, I don’t know if I have anything left in me. I’ll miss you too, Lee-Lee.” I use her much despised nickname to try and lighten the mood.

  “Thanks, Syd-Syd,” she flippantly replies. I think I’ve been spared from the waterworks until she turns serious. “Call me if you need anything, Sydney. You know I’ll leave London and come to you if I have to.”

  Okay, now I might cry. Only a best friend would leave her dream vacation with her dream guy to help you out. “You too, Leah.” My voice cracks at the sentimental moment. “You’re like my sister.”

  “Your much cuter sister,” she laughs.

  “Obviously.”

  We say our goodbyes and hang up. I clench my phone tightly in my hand. I really hope she’s doing the right thing.

  Chapter 4

  Drew took off early for his production meeting this morning at the studio, so I’m left to find my own entertainment today. Well, me and Steve and Bruce, the Three Musketeers of Vancouver. He gave me explicit instructions not to go anywhere by myself.

  Bossy, gorgeous, ass!

  I sigh and call up Steve on his cellphone. His room is just next door to our suite at the Hotel Georgia, but I wouldn’t want to go over and knock and find him undressed or something embarrassing. Plus, if Drew knew that I saw him in his skivvies, he’d flip his damn lid.

  “Miss Tannen, what can I do for you.” Steve’s clipped military voice comes through the phone.

  “Hi Steve, I’d like to go to see some interior design shops. There’s a place called the Gastown District that has a lot of cool stores.” I hate having to basically ask permission to go out. It makes me feel like a child, and I despise that feeling.

  “No problem, I’ll have Bruce bring the car around front. When do you want me ready for you?”

  “Ummm, I’d like to go soon I guess. Maybe twenty minutes?”

  “I’ll be at your door in twenty minutes then, Miss Tannen.”

  “Thanks.” I disconnect, feeling magnificently stupid.

  I hate the loss of my freedom; it brings back stifling memories of my childhood. Carted all around L.A. by a score of bodyguards and handlers, never a having a minute that you’re not watched by someone. If it wasn’t the hulking security surrounding me, then it was the relentless paparazzi or crowds of fans that hounded my parents.

  Drew did say he came with a lot of baggage that I wouldn’t like because of my experiences as a kid, and I have to say this is one of them. But, it’s a small sacrifice to make in order to be with him, and after the attack on me I have to say that as much as I hate it, the bodyguard doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  I roll my eyes in disbelief, I’m actually agreeing with Drew and his almost obsessive-compulsive behavior when it comes to my safety.

  Damn, I must be losing it.

  I grab my sunglasses and my sweater out of the bedroom and just as I’m heading over to get my purse off of the couch there’s a light rap on my door.

  Flinging open the door to the suite, I find Steve standing there with his usual menacing expression. His short sleeve T-shirt is inappropriate for today’s cool weather. His two enormous, tattoo-covered biceps are visible and practically bursting the thin fabric at the seams. With the tattoos, his buzzed military style haircut and the aviator sunglasses he
wears, I’d be scared of him if he weren’t protecting me. The glower he throws my way when I open the door is enough to make me flinch back.

  “Miss Tannen, you didn’t check to see who I was. I could have been a reporter or a photographer or worse.” He’s angry.

  “Did Drew tell you to correct everything I do wrong?” I snap.

  Steve smiles at my sharp retort. “Yes Ma’am. He told me to make sure you were safe, and to help you keep yourself safe. That includes basic personal safety lessons.”

  I poke his giant chest. “Listen here, I’m a grown woman. You can tell Drew that I don’t need lessons or him spying on me … you know what? Forget it, I’ll tell him myself later.” I huff and stomp out of my suite and down the hall to the elevator, Steve following diligently behind. I ignore him the entire way to the car.

  Great, now I’m not only being treated like a child, but I’m acting like one.

  Bruce is standing outside the huge SUV with dark tinted windows that the studio rented for the duration of the shoot. “Good morning, MissTannen,” he says cheerily.

  I climb into the back seat and Bruce gently closes the door behind me. Steve hops into the passenger seat and Bruce heads around to the driver’s side. “I know we’re headed to the Gastown District, and I’ve already prepared a route. Is there a particular store you want me to go to or will you just be walking around?”

  I hadn’t thought this far ahead. Everything has to be planned out now. It’s annoying.

  “I guess I’ll just walk around.” I sound as grumpy as I look, folding my arms across my chest. Sighing, I realize that I have to stop being a bitch and just accept my new life. My phone startles me with a text alert as I sulk.

  Drew

  Of course he knows what I’m doing. Certainly Steve is going to keep him updated on my day to day activities. He might be in a meeting today, but once he’s filming, he’s not going to be able to meddle as much.

  I type out a response.

  Me

  My phone beeps immediately.

  Drew

  My heart skips in my chest. A smiley face from Andrew Forrester? I’m being an ungrateful bitch. He’s been through a lot lately because of me. I guess if this is what he needs to be able to function and not worry, then I can suck it up and make him happy.

  Me

  A minute later, it chirps again.

  Drew

  Smiling, I toss my phone back into my purse. Bruce guides the Suburban down Water Street and pulls over next to an adorable shopping area with paved brick walkways and dotted with outdoor cafés. This is incredible, I can see at least four stores that I want to check out and am armed with a list of several more.

  Two hours later, I’ve made several contacts with some excellent furniture and interior design retailers. I took a ton of pictures of different pieces that I can use in future projects. I fully plan on returning to work after Drew’s movie is done. I’m sure he’ll have an opinion about that, but it’s what I know and love. I can’t just do nothing all of the time or I’ll lose my mind.

  I have one more store I want to check out, one that specializes in vintage pieces. Steve opens the door for me, intimidating glower in place, and follows me inside. A well-dressed young brunette, probably in her late twenties, approaches us smiling. Her face falls when she gets a good eyeful of Mr. Muscles behind me, but she retains her professionalism and shakes my hand.

  “Good afternoon, welcome to L’Atelier. I’m Ashley White.” I push my sunglasses up onto my head and shake her hand. “And you’re Sydney Tannen!” she states loudly, suddenly looking a little pale.

  Crap. I made it this far in the day without anyone recognizing me. I try to put on the ‘public’ mask that Drew and my mom have mastered. Unfortunately, I’m not an actress, and my face always betrays my emotions.

  “Yes, that’s me,” I say smiling broadly and feeling ridiculous.

  “Um, well, yes. What can I do for you?” She stumbles on her words, trying and failing to preserve her professional demeanor.

  “I’m an interior designer, and I’m just checking out all of the wonderful stores you have here in Vancouver. I wanted to look around and possibly get some contact information in case I want to use any of your pieces in any future designs.”

  She’s too busy gaping at me like a fish and giving Steve the side-eye as he stands next to me to be able to say anything remotely intelligent. Memories of people becoming speechless and stupid around my parents flood my mind, making me shudder.

  I want to scream that I’m not famous! I’m only famous by association.

  “Ashley?”

  “What? I’m so sorry. Yes, of course. Feel free to look around. I’ll be in front if you have any questions.” Ashley turns and hurries away.

  Wonderful. Letting out a huge breath, I wander through the store for almost an hour, occasionally snapping a pic of something that catches my eye. Steve stays by the front door since we’re alone in the store. I’m about to pick up a gorgeous vintage glass lamp when Steve calls to me in his serious staccato tone.

  “Miss Tannen, we need to go, now.”

  My head whips up at the urgent sound in his voice and my mouth falls open in shock. On the other side of the glass storefront are about a dozen reporters with cameras, and another twenty or so onlookers most of whom are taking pictures or videos on their phones.

  Shit, I should have worn the mullet.

  Lowering my sunglasses, I hustle to the front of the store where Steve is waiting for me. He tucks me in next to him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He leans against the door and looks down at me, “Ready?”

  “No,” is all I can manage to croak out. Why do they care about me? Drew’s not even here. My entire body is shaking from the adrenaline coursing through me, a result of my new fear of crazy fans that could be wielding sharp objects.

  Scowling, Steve pushes the glass door open and hustles me out onto the cobblestone sidewalk. Within a half a second, we’re assaulted by a barrage of bright flashbulbs and loud questions from every side. It’s only twenty feet to the open car door where Bruce waits for us, but it may as well be two-hundred feet. I’m paralyzed by fear and with the huge crowd surging around us, there’s nowhere to go. Steve literally has to use his free arm to shove people aside to make room for us to pass.

  The personal questions rain down on me from every possible side as dozens of hands reach in and touch me. Steve does his best to keep walking but there are just so many of them in our way, and my inability to make my feet move doesn’t help.

  “Sydney! Are you in town with Andrew Forrester?”

  “Are you healed from the attack?”

  “Where have you been the past month?”

  “How do you feel about the man who attacked you?”

  “We heard you reconciled with your father at the hospital. Is it true?”

  “Is it true that you’re seeing Adam Reynolds and Andrew Forrester?”

  “What does Andrew think about what happened at his premiere?”

  “I love you, Sydney!”

  At the last comment, I flinch away, my eyes wildly scanning the crowd as I press further into Steve’s side. That’s what the lunatic said right as he slid the knife in. That he loved me. Steve guides my head down and lifts me into the back seat of the SUV and Bruce steps on the gas and takes off.

  I can’t breathe. Am I dying? Somewhere in the back of my mind I see Steve next to me saying something. All I can hear is a loud pounding, almost like a whooshing sound in my ears.

  Is someone shaking me?

  “Sydney! Hey! Look at me!” After what feels like forever, I’m finally able to understand that Steve is talking. The pounding sound subsides and I realize th
at the noise is just my own rapid heartbeat thumping behind my eardrums.

  “What’s happening?” I whisper in an unsteady voice.

  “You’re having a panic attack. Are you okay?” Steve seems worried, his stoic façade cracking, and he’s gripping the tops of my arms rather firmly. I look down at his hands with wide eyes and he releases me, leaving red marks where he was holding on.

  “Y-y-yes, I’m okay n-n-now.” I breathe deep, sitting on my hands to try to stop the shaking. “That person, someone in the crowd, they frightened me. I feel much better, thanks.”

  I don’t really feel like explaining my neuroses to a bodyguard that I barely know. I turn toward the window and stay silent for the rest of the ride back to the hotel, choking back the tears that burn against my eyelids.

  Once I’m alone in my room, I walk over to the full bar and pour a huge shot of fancy tequila, slamming it back quickly before my trembling hand can spill it everywhere. Then I do another and make a face. I call room service and ask for a bucket of ice and some lime wedges to be brought up, ASAP. I put down the phone, knowing that this is a bad idea.

  Fuck it!

  A rapid knock at the door lets me know my room service is here. Damn, they’re fast. A young man pushes in the cart and hurries out without a word after taking note of my sweaty, panicked state. At some point, I remember that I didn’t check who was at the door before opening it, then just as quickly realize that I don’t give a shit.

  Screw Drew and his rules.

  I scoop up the bottle in one hand, wiping my mouth with the back of my other hand and put it on the cart. Pushing it in front of me, I grab a cashmere throw off of the sofa and step out onto the huge private patio overlooking the city street down below. Falling onto one of the soft outdoor couches I wrap up in the warm blanket.

  This is my life now. I throw back another shot.

  Everything I hated as a child, all of my fears coming true. The crowds of people, the paparazzi, the lack of anonymity; everything multiplied by a million because of the attack at the premiere, who my boyfriend is, and who my parents are.