Absolutely Famous (Famous Series)

by Heather Leigh

  She gives me the evil eye and we both crack up.

  “We’re both so fucked up, you know that, right?” Leah jokes.

  “Yeah, I know,” It comes out sadder than I meant.

  “You guys will be okay. This will be good for you both.”

  I give my best friend a weak smile as we hand my luggage to her driver and climb into the back seat of the car. We settle in for the twenty mile ride from Heathrow to the Warren Hotel and chat about Leah’s time in London so far.

  “So Leah, what do you do all day when you don’t go to the set?”

  “I go to the set most days and hang in Ryker’s trailer or with his assistant, Brittney. But sometimes I go shopping with her or out with other friends.” I give her a confused look so she continues. “I spend a lot of time with the same people, so I’ve made a few fairly close friends.”

  “That’s great.” I’m genuinely happy for her, and a little jealous. It’s easier to make friends when you don’t think everyone has an ulterior motive to hang out with you. Then it occurs to me, people do have an ulterior motive to be friends with Leah now that she’s with Ryker. “How do you know who to trust? You know, who wants to get with you just to meet Ryker?”

  “Oh, I don’t know who to trust. That’s why I only hang out with the crew, friends of the cast or crew, or friends of Ryker’s. No way am I going to let someone use me to get to him.”

  I sigh. Leah makes life seem so easy. Why is it that the exact same problems become monumentally unsurpassable as soon as they enter my world?

  “What?” she asks, not missing the huge breath I let out.

  “It’s just that I was in Vancouver for longer than you and I didn’t hang out with anyone except Drew. Am I unapproachable or a super-bitch or something?”

  Leah stares at me with a blank look on her face. “No Syd, you’ve always been closed off like that. I’m your only friend for God’s sake and you’re almost twenty-five years old!” She sees my face fall and hurries to finish her thought. “It’s how you’ve had to be, Sydney, to protect yourself. But now that your secret is out, you can open up more and let people in. Just be choosy about who and how.”

  “I don’t know how to make friends.”

  God, I’m such a loser!

  “Girl, that’s why you’re here with me! We’re gonna party it up like the hot young things we are!” She grins and throws her arm around me, hugging me to her side. “You’re going to relearn how to be social, and we are going to do it in style.”

  I smile back, not sure if this is the best idea she’s ever had. But she’s right. I need to figure out how to be a normal, functioning adult. Well, a semi-famous, tabloid fodder, not at all normal adult, but still. What I’m doing isn’t working so I guess I’ll do it her way for now and see what happens.

  “I forgot how bad traffic here can be.” I tell Leah as we finally make it to my suite almost two hours later. I flop on the bed exhausted and close my eyes.

  A sharp tug on my hand causes me to look up. Leah is standing over me, hands on her hips, scowling in my general direction.

  “Uh-uh! No way!” she chastises.

  “What?”

  “We’re going out. You are not going to bed at 9pm on a Saturday night in London! Get up!”

  “But it’s not Saturday night in my head. I barely even slept on the plane. I’ve had a really long, emotionally draining 24 hours Leah. Can’t we start tomorrow? Jet lag!” I beg her for mercy.

  “No. That’s what coffee is for. So get your butt up. Your stuff is all wrinkled and packed, so we’re going to my room to change and then we’re getting you sexed up and out of your funk.” She yanks my arms until I’m standing, then pushes me towards the door.

  Two flights up and we’ve arrived at Leah and Ryker’s two bedroom suite. I was thrilled to find out she was staying at the same hotel as me. In fact, they originally were at the nearby Corinthia until the paps found out that most of the cast from the movie were staying there. Dozens of photographers and a mob of teenage girls made a camp on the sidewalks surrounding the hotel. Leah recommended the Warren to Ryker’s assistant since she loves the one in New York so much.

  She swipes her keycard and we enter the exclusive suite. It’s much larger than my one bedroom, but the décor is similar. Deep grays and creams with hints of iridescent silver here and there. It’s gorgeous and minimal, just how I like it.

  I know with my background I shouldn’t have formed an opinion of Ryker before knowing him, but I honestly expected the room to be filled with loud music, drunken groupies and the smell of weed. All I hear though is an acoustic guitar, strumming a hypnotizing melody.

  Leah beckons me to follow her through the dining room and into the main living area of the suite.

  As I turn the corner, I realize that Karma must really hate me. I must have done some seriously bad shit in a previous life, because playing guitar on the couch next to Ryker Bancroft is none other than Adam Reynolds.

  The music suddenly ends with a loud screech across the strings. Adam and I lock eyes for a moment, until I feel the heat in my cheeks and look away.

  Holy shit! I’m going to kill Leah.

  I sneak a peek at her as she flops down onto Ryker’s lap and curls her arms around his neck. She’s grinning from ear to ear. She did this on purpose!

  “Sydney? You’re quite possibly the last person I ever expected to see walk into this room,” Adam says in his lilting British accent, clearly just as surprised as I am by this ambush. He stands up and places the guitar on the coffee table giving me a kiss on the cheek before pulling me in for a hug. “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he whispers in my ear.

  I step back and smile apologetically. “Thanks for ummm, calling the hospital, Adam. I, uh,.…” I stumble over my words. Thankfully, he takes pity on me and interrupts my babbling.

  “No worries, Sweetheart. I’m just glad to see you doing well.” He gives me a genuine smile and I relax some.

  “Yes, thank you. I’m doing much better. I appreciate you caring enough to call. And, I’m sorry for the way I freaked out last time I saw you.” I feel the embarrassment creep up my neck.

  “Not a problem,” he laughs. He lets me sit in his seat next to Ryker and Leah and drops into the chair next to the couch.

  “Hello again, Sydney,” Ryker says from his position underneath my best friend. “I would have stood to greet you but as you can see, I’m currently being overpowered by Leah.” He stretches out his hand and shakes mine. I laugh at him because Leah is about five foot three if she’s lucky and maybe weighs one-hundred pounds. Ryker, on the other hand, is about six foot one and covered in lean muscles. He could probably pitch her clear across the room if he felt like it.

  “No big deal,” I say. “I’m pretty much used to Leah’s odd behavior by now.”

  “Hey! I’m not odd,” Her face contorts into a look of fake hurt. “Oh who am I kidding? I’m totally odd, but in an awesome way!” she laughs, and so do we.

  In my three and a half hours in England, I’m having more fun and less stress than in my entire three and a half weeks in Vancouver.

  Leah jumps off of Ryker’s lap and grabs my hand. “Come on, Syd. Let’s go get ready. We’re going to have a hell of a lot of fun tonight!” She drags me off to her bedroom to get dressed.

  An hour later, I’m sitting in a booth in a crowded London club, with Ryker Bancroft and Adam Reynolds. Life can be so strange sometimes.

  “Let’s dance, Sydney!” Leah yells over the thumping bass of the music.

  “Okay.” I relent and slide out of the booth we’re sharing with Adam and Ryker.

  She’s been bugging me to dance with her for the last hour, ever since we set foot in the exclusive Low Rent nightclub in the trendy West End, near Piccadilly Circus. It’s packed, even here in the VIP area of the club. I even found that sometimes it helps to have a recognizable face. We were able to skip waiting in the enormous line outside, simply by being us. The bouncer even knew who I was
and called me by my name though I have no doubt it was Ryker and Adam who got us in so easily.

  We step down the few stairs from the VIP lounge to the main dance floor and manage to carve out a tiny spot of our own. We get jostled around some, but that’s what happens in crowded clubs. It’s no different than in New York when we would dance all night and pick up guys.

  After a few songs, I start to notice that I’m being bumped more than normal. I’m so jetlagged that I haven’t had any alcohol for fear of falling asleep at the table, so my senses are better than they usually are at a club. I peek over my shoulder and see a decent looking guy dancing to my left. I shrug and look at Leah, she’s got her hands over her head and her eyes closed, moving to the rhythmic beats.

  Someone bumps me hard and I slam into a man dancing next to me.

  What the fuck?

  The man I landed on gives me a lewd look and keeps his hands on me too long. Now I know I’m being deliberately knocked into. ‘Decent-looking guy’ on my left has hip-checked me into his friend’s slimy arms. I hadn’t noticed this guy before, but now that I’m paying attention, I can see that they’re together and that they’re doing this to me on purpose.

  I move to tell Leah that I’m going back to sit down with Adam and Ryker when I feel a hand on my inner thigh that moves up under the short Versace dress I raided from her closet.

  “Hey luv, don’t go yet. We’re just getting cozy here,” he says from behind me where he’s pressing up against me.

  Choking down the bile I feel rising up in my throat I bring my arm forward, then drop my elbow back into his gut as hard as I possibly can. He lets go of me immediately and doubles over in pain, trying to catch his breath.

  “You fucking twat!” he coughs out.

  His friend moves toward me, a hostile look on his ‘decent-looking’ face, and grabs my wrist in his very non-decent hand.

  “What’s your problem?” he sneers, “We’re just having a bit of fun, gorgeous.”

  His breath reeks of liquor and he’s trying to force me closer to him. I am so sick of standing around being a victim. To hell with this shit! I bring my knee up and connect with his balls, causing him to release my arm and drop to the floor, writhing in pain.

  “What the hell, Sydney?” Leah stands next to me, gawking at the two men gasping for air on the dance floor. She shoves me toward the VIP area and into the booth, her eyes darting around like we’re about to be arrested or something. Maybe some of Angry Drew has finally rubbed off on me.

  Adam notices the scowl on my face and the shock on Leah’s as we slide into the seats. “What’s going on?”

  “Sydney just took down two guys on the dance floor, that’s what’s going on,” Leah huffs.

  “You did what?” Ryker asks in disbelief.

  Embarrassed, I tell them what happened. “These two guys kept jostling me into each other so they could cop a feel. Then one of them put his hand up my skirt, so I elbowed him in his diaphragm.” The men’s faces are ones of pure astonishment. “Then his friend manhandled me so I kneed him in the nuts,” I say unemotionally, sipping my juice.

  “Wow,” says Ryker. “I wish that I had seen that. That’s freakin’ awesome!” He holds his fist out to me.

  Embarassed, I lightly tap my fist to his then we all burst out laughing.

  “Don’t mess with Syd, she’ll eff you up!” says Leah.

  “Yeah, well I’m tired of having to be protected all of the time. I’m taking care of myself.” I feel awesome, like a new person, New Sydney.

  Adam raises his pint of beer and the others do the same with their drinks. Reluctantly, I raise my cranberry juice. “To Sydney, molest her and she’ll put you on your arse while you’re knees up at the hippest club in London!”

  We all laugh and clink glasses, turning a serious situation into the funniest part of the evening.

  I have to admit, it feels good to not be helpless for once.

  Chapter 15

  Waiting around in the conference room of the Warren Hotel seems to be a common occurrence for their nightclub remodels. I’ve already toured the space upstairs, an outdated club named Risk. The layout is decent but the furniture and color palette are too new to be retro and too old to be modern. Management has decided to go with a “V” theme for all of their nightclub names, so Vertigo will be the second club in the rebranding of their new, trendsetting style.

  The conference room looks out on the Thames River, its muddy color not detracting from the beauty of the old buildings that crowd along its edge. I don’t feel any anxiety, but I still stand and face the window and press my forehead to the cool glass. It seems like a lifetime ago that I stood like this nearly every day in an attempt to calm my fraying nerves. If nothing else, the ups and downs of being Sydney Tannen over the last few months have at least healed that part of me.

  I spin around when the door opens and three people enter. Two I don’t recognize, but the arrogant and handsome face of Jeff Talley is not one I had anticipated seeing here.

  “Hello Sydney,” Jeff says politely, extending his hand to me as he walks around the table.

  “Hello Jeff. Thank you for bringing me on for another project.” I stuff down the urge to throw up on his perfect suit.

  “Sydney,” Jeff continues, “This is Violet Thompson, Vice-President of Operations in Europe.”

  I shake hands with a pleasant older woman with a graying bob and a matching gray power suit. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Thompson.”.

  “Pleasure, Sydney. Please, call me Violet,” she says in her clipped London accent.

  Jeff continues, gesturing to the incredibly attractive, thirty-something year-old man with close-cropped hair and designer stubble. “And this is Oliver Clarke, he’s the project manager here at this location and will be your point person for the Vertigo remodel.”

  I gratefully shake Oliver’s hand. At least Jeff isn’t my project manager here like he was in New York. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Clarke.”

  “The pleasure is certainly all mine, Ms. Tannen,” he says in a more northern British inflection, clasping his left hand over our joined ones as we shake. It doesn’t escape me that he didn’t ask me to call him Oliver.

  Interesting.

  We take our seats and they tell me what they would like to see in the design, what they like and don’t like, and which ideas that I used in New York that they want to have duplicated for continuity between the two locations. Violet, despite the fact that she’s probably a few years past sixty, has very strong opinions on what young Europeans expect in a nightclub.

  She must notice my astonished expression, because she winks and says, “I do love a crowded club dear. Partied with the Beatles and the Stones in my day.”

  Fascinated, I’m about to ask her about the Beatles when Jeff interrupts, “Oh Violet, Sydney here doesn’t like celebrities, you know. She wouldn’t care if your husband was Paul McCartney or Mick Jagger was your brother.”

  That smug bastard is sitting back smirking while I must be turning about a hundred different shades of red.

  “In fact, Sydney parties with all kinds of famous people. Don’t you Sydney?”

  Violet turns to look at me in interest, but I notice that Oliver rolls his eyes and scratches his head uncomfortably. I hope he’s rolling his eyes at Jeff and not me. I have to work with this guy on a daily basis.

  “I’ve told you Jeff…”

  “I know Sydney, you don’t know any famous people,” he finishes for me.

  Anger starts to bubble up in me. New Sydney doesn’t press her head to the glass. Nope, she kicks assholes in the balls and elbows them in the stomach. I clench my hands under the table so I won’t slap Jeff in front of the other executives. God, I’m turning into Drew.

  “I never said I don’t know any famous people,” I explain to Oliver and Violet. “I said I don’t follow celebrity stuff like gossip or movies.”

  Violet nods her head in understanding. “Yes, they’re just regular chaps like us, aren�
�t they?”

  Jeff produces a tabloid website printout from somewhere and pushes it across the table so I can see it.

  “I’ve told you, I don’t read gossip.” I firmly shove the paper back toward him.

  “Oh, then I’ll read it for you,” he says.

  Holy crap! I’m actually going to have to kick him in the nutsack!

  “The gorgeous Sydney Tannen was spotted out last night at Low Rent, an exclusive nightclub in London that caters to many stars, accompanied by music sensation and Sphere of Irony front man Adam Reynolds. Insiders spotted them getting cozy in a booth in the VIP section along with heartthrob, actor Ryker Bancroft, who is in town filming the second installment in the Quantum Stranger trilogy, and another female friend.

  “Several clubgoers witnessed an altercation between two other male patrons and the feisty Tannen, in which she knocked down the two men on the dance floor. The men were then escorted out by security for harassing her.

  “There are no reports as to why Tannen is in London, or whether she’s still seeing rumored beau, actor Andrew Forrester. Forrester is currently still in Vancouver filming Downtrodden Masses with actress Kiera Radcliff. Video taken a few days ago outside a Vancouver eatery showed Forrester assaulting a fan that tried to fondle Tannen as they left the restaurant.

  “Are Forrester and Tannen done? Have they swapped partners for hunky Reynolds and sexy Radcliff? After the standoff at Verve nightclub in March, there’s no doubt that Forrester will not be happy to see Tannen hooking up with the very eligible Reynolds while he’s on the other side of the globe. Maybe we’ll get to see these two hunks face off again soon. It seems Tannen has something that these men find irresistible.”

  Jeff finishes and tosses the sheet back across the table.

  “There are pictures too,” he says gleefully.

  Unable to stop myself, I reach for the glossy page and pull it closer. Under the huge headline “Sydney Tannen Plays Rivals Andrew Forrester and Adam Reynolds Against Each Other”, are four giant color photos from last night.