“I’m already back to being an overbearing asshole, that’s what you’re saying?”
“No! Of course not. We’re all feeling freaked out by the intrusion on our privacy. And Allie, God I feel terrible that she’s caught up in this crap.” I stand up and put away my iPod and roll up the yoga mat. “It’s just a fucked up situation, again.” I throw my hands up in defeat. “It’s going to follow us forever, isn’t it? This, this … tornado of shit?”
Drew’s lip quirks up at the corner and his eyes light up in amusement. “Tornado of shit?”
“Yes, a tornado of shit.” I put my hands on my hips and try to look stern. “A mother-fucking, F5, tornado of shit,” I say seriously. Then my eyes meet his and I break down laughing.
He grabs my hand and pulls me down onto his lap. “A mother-fucking, F5, tornado of shit,” he whispers against my lips. “Let’s go tear apart that fucking tornado,” he growls.
“Together?”
“Together.” Drew agrees.
Drew stands up and holds his hand out to me. “Ready?” I take his hand and nod, smiling at the man I love. He pulls me to my feet and gives me a quick kiss. “Let’s get those fuckers,” he says with a glint in his eye.
The living area is teeming with people. Evan and Steve are standing across the room with their arms crossed. How he managed to get them here is beyond me. They must have all come in on the same flight this morning. I’m not sure where Sal went, but I don’t see him. Agent Wilson is near the dining table, talking with two other men in suits, while the two giant, tattooed, SEALS listen intently to the conversation.
“Who’s that?” I ask Drew, pointing to a well-dressed but disheveled gray-haired man sitting on one of the couches. He has a laptop open on the coffee table in front of him and is talking rapidly on the phone. The cufflinks on his expensive white dress shirt are missing and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His paisley tie is loosened and the top button on his shirt is undone. I see a dark suit coat draped carefully over the back of the couch behind him. He looks as tired as Drew, like he jumped a plane and flew all night to get here.
“That’s my lawyer, Samuel Jennings. Come, I’ll introduce you.” Drew begins to walk over to the sitting area but stops when he sees that I don’t move to follow him. “What?” he asks, his brows pinched in confusion.
“Your lawyer? When did he get here?” I turn to face Drew. “In fact, when did Steve and Evan and Sal get here?”
I don’t miss the flash of guilt in Drew’s eyes before he answers me. “I called my lawyer yesterday when I made plans to come here. I told him to get on a plane from New York and get his ass to London to help us deal with this shit.” He notices the surprise on my face but keeps speaking. “Steve flew in with me this morning and has his own room.”
“What about Sal and Evan?” Drew’s jaw clenches and he doesn’t say anything. Before I can push the subject any further, his lawyer has ended his phone call and approached us.
“Drew,” he nods. “This must be the lovely Sydney.” He extends his hand to shake mine. His grip is warm and comforting, and his smile is friendly as he places his hand in mine. “Sam Jennings, it’s a pleasure to meet you Sydney. Quite a mess going on here, huh?”
“Thank you so much for coming here on such short notice, Mr. Jennings…”
“Call me Sam, please,” he tells me with a congenial smile.
“Sam, then. I hope this trip hasn’t been an inconvenience to you.” I’m sure Drew tore the man’s head off to get him to drop everything and leave the country.
“Sydney, don’t worry about me. This …” he hesitates, “Situation is very unusual, even for people at yours and Drew’s level of fame.” Sam’s eyes tighten and his mouth presses into a line before he continues. “I have to tell you, I’m very interested in finding out who is recording your personal conversations. Unfortunately, every recording we know of happened in either the U.K. or Canada and they have very different laws from the United States. So for now, my goal is to help you as a liaison to the British or Canadian attorneys that you’ll need to hire if you wish to press charges or sue.”
“Oh, we’re pressing charges,” Drew says firmly. “They crossed the line when they invaded my privacy, then Sydney’s privacy, but recording and writing about my Goddamn sister?” he growls in a low voice. “I’ll fucking kill them myself.”
I reach out and take Drew’s hand, gently squeezing it to try and calm him down. “Where is Allie?” He frowns and works his jaw muscles again, tensing up at my question.
“She went with her new little friend to watch him film tonight. Said she couldn’t be here to deal with the legal shit,” he spits out. “I had Sal go with her, to make sure no one fucks with her. Now that she’s been identified and they know she’s in the country, I didn’t want her alone.”
Crap. That article is probably going to ruin Allie’s life back home if any of her friends or co-workers read it.
“We’re ready to discuss your options,” says Agent Wilson from across the room. Everyone heads into the living area and sits down to listen. Drew and I take one of the couches, holding hands while we wait to hear what Wilson has to say.
He stands on one end of the room so we can all see him as he speaks. “So, we know that there’s little doubt that someone is recording or listening in to private conversations between different parties in your group.” He looks at us and Drew gives him a stiff nod. “Right, we also know that these conversations have only ever taken place in hotel rooms. Not always the same hotel, correct?” Again, Drew just nods. Wilson continues in his sharp British accent. “Okay. Myself and Fitzroy and Jones from the Home Office,” he motions to the two other men in suits, “Have checked the suite and the blueprints for the building. Based on the fact that there is nowhere close enough that anyone could to listen directly to the conversation and the fact that it’s happened in several different hotels, all with varying floor plans, I’d say it is most definitely a listening device and not a live person that is responsible.”
The Home Office is the British agency in charge of tracking crimes of national importance, kind of like the FBI or Homeland security. Apparently, Drew felt it was time to involve the authorities.
“Why can’t we ever find the device then?” I ask, frustrated by the situation.
“It’s being brought into the suite and removed in between the times that you are sweeping for devices.”
“But we sweep every time we enter!” I yell, getting angry at the situation. Drew smirks at me and squeezes my hand. It’s his turn to calm me down and he thinks it’s pretty amusing.
“Right, so they are most likely pushing a device under the door to your suite or you yourself are carrying it in and out and don’t realize it.” Wilson crosses his arms and stares at us meaningfully.
I gasp at the thought and Drew clenches my hand. “Are you saying that someone is planting something on us and we’re too stupid to notice?” he says menacingly. “Bullshit.”
Agent Wilson holds his hands up. “I’m not necessarily saying that, but the device is clearly coming in and out of the room.” He turns and gestures toward Evan and Steve. “I’ve instructed your men to monitor the door to the suite whenever someone is inside to make sure no one is listening from the hall. This,” he bends down and picks up a handheld black box similar in shape to a large walkie-talkie from the table and holds it in his hand, “Will be on at all times near the front door.”
“What is it?” I ask.
A devilish smile spreads across Agent Wilson’s face. “This is a government-grade counter surveillance device. It detects any possible type of bug that could be used to record you and it is always on, meaning no more sweeps.”
“Why didn’t you just give that to her to begin with?” Drew snaps.
“Because it literally detects everything. You won’t be able to turn on your cellphones without it beeping, it will detect the Wi-Fi signal from the hotel if your computer is on and you can’t use Bluetooth technology
without it sensing that as well. You can use your phones and computers, but know that it will set off the device when you do.”
“Oh,” I say dejectedly. I turn and look at Drew, “This is awful.”
His gaze narrows and he pauses for a moment, then looks right at me with his glittering green eyes. “But it’s going to be so worth it when we catch those bastards.”
Oh shit, I’d really hate to be on the receiving end of a pissed off Andrew Forrester right now
Chapter 24
With Allie and Leah gone for the evening, and Drew satisfied that Allie is safe with Sal, we decide that we want to go out to dinner and leave the stifling confines of the suite. Well, I decide that I want to go out to dinner; Drew wants to keep me locked up and hidden from the world. He’s still upset over the altercation he got into with the fan in Vancouver and the resulting fight that it caused between the two of us. I told him I’d dress conservatively tonight and that we’d go somewhere low-key and he seemed marginally happier at my compromise.
I pull on a pair of russet colored Phillip Lim ankle pants and a long-sleeved knit top that I found at a cute little boutique on Carnaby Street with Allie the other day. I slip on my black suede ankle boots and am ready to go. No skin showing, not even my toes, so Drew should be happy.
I tell myself I’m not changing my wardrobe for him, I just want to keep the peace until all of this other shit is over, then I’ll wear what I want. But honestly, keeping him calm and happy makes me calm and happy, so I don’t really see the big deal. For now.
Drew looks delicious in his distressed jeans and tight gray T-shirt that shows every sculpted muscle in his chest and shoulders. He’s paired it with his black and white Chucks, which makes me melt inside. He’s so fucking sexy, and dressed-down Drew is even sexier.
I try to ignore the tiny pulses that flutter down low in my core, causing the heat between my legs to build. Taking a deep breath, I turn to Drew.
“Ready babe?” He pulls me close and cups his hand behind my neck, extending his fingers into my hair.
“Ready.” I breathe shakily into his chest as he skims his lips up and down my ear and neck. I step back and shake him off. “Don’t, or we’ll never get out of here.”
He steps toward me with a wicked glint in his eyes. “That’s a bad thing?”
I hold my hand up and press it to his hard chest. “Yes, I need to get out of this room. We’ll pick this up later.” I drop my gaze to his perfect lips.
“I’m holding you to that,” he growls. I grab my clutch and the room key and walk into the hallway when Drew opens the door. “Steve,” Drew nods at the man standing just outside the room.
One of them will now be following us everywhere we go, oh joy. Memories of Vancouver and how miserable I was flood my mind. I stomp them out and drop kick them from my brain, determined to have a good time.
Drew wants to see the nightclub so we walk up two flights to the 34th floor where Vertigo is located. Steve waits by the elevators while I show Drew around the space. Only a few workers remain since it’s dark out and there are very few light fixtures assembled. Spotlights on folding legs have been brought in and are lit throughout the space, giving the corners of the club a dark, foreboding appearance.
I point out what’s been done so far, showing Drew where the bar will be and the dance floor that’s already installed. We ascend into the VIP area, one level above the main floor, giving the guests a bird’s eye view of the space. He holds my hand as I lead him outside to the giant patio that spans the entire side of the building, showing him the outdoor bar and the massive fountain that had been giving Oliver trouble the other day. Or was that just this morning? Time seems to lose importance when I’m with Drew.
“This is amazing Sydney,” he says, pulling me into his arms to keep me warm. The breeze on the top of the hotel is chilly this time of year and the space heaters aren’t set up yet. “I regret that I didn’t get to share your happiness in New York when you finished your work there. His eyes are saddened. “I want to be here for you this time.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to stay here with you until you’re done in London. See it to the end with you, like a team.” He presses a soft kiss on my lips and pulls back, watching my face for a reaction.
“You … you can stay here that long?”
“For you, anything.” He has that look on his face that I’ve come to love and associate with everything Drew; honest, open, caring. He means what he says and then follows through. Sometimes I don’t like the way he goes about it, but what he does is always for us, for me.
When I don’t answer right away, I see a flicker of doubt on his face and I hurry to set his mind at ease. “I’d love for you to stay, more than anything. I don’t want us to be apart again.”
“Me either.” He lowers his mouth to mine and presses his tongue against my mouth, causing me to gasp. Drew wastes no time diving in when my lips part, kissing me like I’m the only person on Earth. Right now, in this moment, it feels like we are the only two people on Earth, so right for each other even when things go so horribly wrong for us.
He stops and brushes his thumb across my swollen lips. “I love you Sydney. Now let’s get dinner, I’m starving.” He gives me a huge grin, revealing his panty-dropping dimple and my heart flops around in my chest gasping for air.
“Okay.”
Drew takes my hand again and leads me to the elevators. I push the down button and wait, thinking about our conversation. He’s going to be here, in London. With me until the renovation is complete. I’m so excited that I can’t stop grinning like a complete idiot. I look over at Drew, who is chatting a few steps away with Steve, and feel the electricity between us crackle, igniting the tiny nerves that pulse through my body. I’m getting turned on and he’s not even touching me. How does he do it?
The elevator dings and Drew steps over, taking my hand in his. When the doors open, I step in without looking. Not paying attention, I crash into a very surprised Oliver Clarke, who drops the stack of papers that he had been holding and they flutter to the floor around us.
“Sydney?” he says in surprise, looking me slowly up and down.
“Sorry Oliver, I didn’t see you. I … I wasn’t … I didn’t think,” crap! “I’m so embarrassed,” I squeak out trying to gather all of the papers.
“I’ve got it Sydney,” Oliver says as he takes them from my hands.
I feel Drew’s large presence behind me and he puts his big hands on my shoulders possessively. “I’m Andrew Forrester, and you are?” His voice is cold, hard. He definitely didn’t miss Oliver checking me out, that’s for sure.
“Oliver Clarke, project manager for Vertigo. You must be Sydney’s boyfriend?” Neither of them makes a move to shake hands.
“That’s right, I am.” I turn and glare at Drew over my shoulder. He’s acting like a total ass.
“I’ve uh, heard good things about you,” Oliver says unconvincingly. “Visiting London, are you?”
Holy crap Oliver, stop making conversation and let us leave! The testosterone is spiking to dangerous levels around me.
“No, I’ll be here with Sydney until the project is over,” he says calmly, stepping out from behind me and taking my hand. “If you’ll excuse us, we have reservations,” he says signaling Steve to get the elevator.
“No problem.” Oliver steps out of the way so we can leave, “See you tomorrow then, Sydney.” He looks at me once more, then turns and walks into the club.
I say nothing, my mouth gaping open and closed like a damn idiot. Drew drags me by the hand into the elevator and smashes the button for the ground floor. I know he doesn’t want to say anything in front of Steve, but he’s way too angry to stay quiet. “What the fuck was that?”
“Which part? The part where you got all caveman and practically clubbed me and dragged me out by my hair or the part where you acted like a total douchbag to my boss!”
I hear a snicker behind me and see Drew scowl
at Steve for his very uncharacteristic laughing.
Drew turns his body so he’s face to face with me. “The part where that asshole eye-fucked you with me standing right there! Is he doing that every day when you work together?”
“What? No! You’re crazy.” I dismissive him even though I know he’s right. Oliver is attracted to me, I’m not stupid. And my crazy sex-starved hormones reacted to him today so now he has ideas in his head that I unintentionally encouraged.
“Sydney, I’m not crazy. That guy wants to fuck you,” he growls.
“He does not! We work together and that’s it.”
“We’ll see.” Drew narrows his eyes.
I put my hands on my hips and stare him down. “I just want it to be noted that I dressed conservatively just like you requested, and according to you I was still hit on buy a guy. Now you know that what I wear out has no basis for whether or not men look at me,” I snap.
Drew can’t help it, his angry face crumbles and a smile appears. “That’s because you’re too fucking sexy for your own good.”
“Whatever,” I say dismissively, then I meet his eyes and smirk at him. “You’re a pain in the ass, Forrester.”
“I know, but I’m only a pain in your ass, babe!” He waggles his eyebrows and the angry moment is gone. For now.
“Lucky me.”
Bradshaw’s is a little hole-in-the wall restaurant on the edge of SoHo. The original SoHo, not the one near my loft in New York. The place is small but private, with tall backs to the booths and low lighting to maintain the cozy atmosphere. The hostess greets us warmly, then I watch her eyes bug out when she recognizes Drew. Her gaze flicks to me and they bug out again.
I sigh, this is my life. It will always be like this. New Sydney, doesn’t give a shit about being recognized and with Drew next to me. I’m not scared or anxious. I just don’t like it very much.
Absolutely Famous (Famous Series) Page 18