Extremely Famous

by Heather Leigh

  “Not long Daddy.” He gives me a big, comforting hug and leads me into the house with his arm around my shoulders.

  “Come in, I have lunch all ready for you. How’s L.A. been treating you?”

  “Great, it’s been great. It’s weird to be back though,” I admit.

  He brings me through a brightly lit foyer and into a mostly glass great room that opens up onto the back patio revealing sweeping views of Los Angeles.

  “Wow Daddy, it’s beautiful.” I walk out onto the terrace and stand on the edge, looking out over the entire city.

  “No views like that in New York, huh?”

  “No, not at all. It’s wonderful.” I turn and see a pool on one end of the patio and a large table set for two on the other end.

  “I thought we’d eat outside, since it’s so nice out,” my dad says.

  “Daddy, this is Southern California. It’s nice out every day,” I reply, laughing.

  He gives me a full Reid Tannen grin and my heart melts. I’ve missed him so much. I can’t believe I was ever nervous to see him.

  “I miss you Daddy.”

  He walks over and takes my hands. “I’ve missed you too Syd. So much. We have a lot to make up for, don’t we?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s eat and you can tell me all about your fiancé,” he says, winking at me.

  “Okay.”

  We sit at the table and enjoy fresh grilled fish tacos with roasted vegetables and sangria. I know there’s no way my dad made this meal. His cooking skills are somewhat equal to mine, meaning non-existent.

  “So how’s Drew?” he asks as I take a sip of sangria.

  Putting down my glass, I answer, “He’s great Daddy. Really great.” I blush and take a huge bite of food.

  “I like him Syd. He’s a good match for you.”

  “Yeah, he is,” I say, embarrassed to discuss this with my dad.

  “So, when’s the engagement party?” he asks, between bites.

  “Ummm, I don’t really want an engagement party, Daddy.” I hope he won’t be mad at me. I am his only child after all. He may want the whole father-of-the-bride experience.

  “Why not?” he asks, looking more confused than hurt.

  “Daddy, you know exactly how it will be. With Drew and you and mom all in one place… I don’t want that kind of attention. You know I hate it.”

  Great, now I sound whiney.

  “Well,” he says, putting down his fork. “What do you want?”

  “I want privacy. I want a wedding without paparazzi and fans swarming me. I want to run away and do it and not tell anyone.” I look up at my dad. “Is that crazy?”

  “Not at all Sydney. It’s completely understandable actually.”

  “You won’t be upset if you’re not there?”

  “Honey, I just want you to be happy.” He reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. “Besides, we can always throw a giant party afterwards.” He gives me a mischievous smile and I think of Drew. They really are exactly alike. What does that say about me?

  “I’m happy Daddy. Most of the time. I’m sure you’ve seen that we’ve had our share of problems.”

  “Heartbreaker, just be happy. Don’t worry about all of that other shit or it will ruin you.”

  My dad looks like he wants to say more but he doesn’t, then the moment is gone.

  I’m nervous, but I have to ask for my dad’s honest opinion. “Daddy, do you think Drew is too, I don’t know, violent, reactionary?” I think of Drew’s response this morning to someone just touching my arm and can’t help but wonder.

  He gives me a look of disbelief. “Sydney, with all the shit that’s happened to you, you need someone a little bit more aggressive than the average guy.” He pauses, his blue eyes meeting mine. “Someone who’s not afraid to stand up to the bullcrap and make sure you’re safe.”

  “Yeah, you’re right Daddy. He isn’t afraid of anything, that’s for sure.” Maybe my dad is right, whoever I’m with would have to learn to hold his own against fans, psychos, and paparazzi. That’s no easy task.

  Daddy laughs out loud. “No, he certainly isn’t.” My dad sounds proud of Drew for being just like him. The son he never had I suppose.

  We enjoy the rest of our meal under the gorgeous summer sun. He gives me a tour of his unbelievable home, showing me all of the architectural details that the original owner had put into the house and his new Oscar, which is sitting in a box in his office.

  In the blink of an eye, it’s two hours later. Bruce is driving me back to the hotel and I can’t stop smiling. Finally, I have my dad back in my life. Permanently this time and I couldn’t be happier.

  When I get back to the hotel, I cautiously walk down the hallway toward the press junket. I notice a different man is standing at the entrance and he says nothing as Evan and I pass. He won’t even make eye contact. I’m sure Drew had something to do with that.

  Afraid to knock on one of the doors and interrupt an interview, I text Jane to let her know we’re outside. Moments later, she comes out of the furthest room down the hall.

  “Sydney,” she whispers, motioning me over. “This one is almost over. Come in, but be very quiet.”

  Evan and I slip into the room and press ourselves against the wall. Drew and his co-star Zane McNamara are in front of a banner with the film’s logo all over it, being interviewed by some guy who is sitting off-camera asking questions. They finish a few minutes later and Drew jumps up to see me.

  “Hey babe, how was lunch?” he asks, giving me a quick kiss. I see his eyes flick over to my arm to make sure it’s not still red. Satisfied, he smiles at me.

  “Great, it was just perfect. You should see my dad’s house sometime.”

  “Hey Sydney, good to see you again,” Zane says as he comes up to us.

  “Hi Zane, how did the interviews go?”

  “Long, it’s been a long day.” He rubs his giant hand over his short blonde hair. “I’ve got to tape a bunch of talk shows over the next few days, and Eastlake in an hour or so. You going with this guy to tape Eastlake tomorrow?” Zane stabs his thumb in Drew’s direction.

  “Yes, she’s coming,” Drew answers for me. I give him an exasperated look that lets him know I can speak for myself.

  Zane doesn’t miss the exchange and he excuses himself. “I’ll see you two later.”

  “Did you have any trouble getting back here?” Drew asks me as he takes my hand.

  I give him the side-eye. “You know damn well I didn’t.”

  He smiles. “Let’s go upstairs. I’m beat.”

  CHAPTER 15

  The last time I saw Brandon Eastlake we were sitting in my hospital room at Cedars Sinai not too far from the studio where his late night talk show is filmed. Nerves plague my stomach as I pick at my food, unable to eat anything placed in front of me because I can’t stop thinking about the reason I was in the hospital.

  Drew frowns when he notices that I’m not eating. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked Cuban food?” he asks as he takes a giant bite of his sandwich.

  I take a tiny sip of my drink, and my stomach twists in protest. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m just anxious to see Brandon again.” I push away the food and hug my midsection.

  “Why?” He grimaces and leans across the table to hear my response.

  We have to speak softly because we’ve attracted quite a bit of attention by acting ‘normal’ and sitting at an outdoor table at this tiny Cuban café. I’ve been doing a pretty good job of ignoring both the constant clicking of the paparazzi’s cameras from the sidewalk fifteen yards away and the hushed whispers of the other diners who are shocked to see us here. As usual, our giant protectors keep everyone from getting too close.

  “Just bad memories.” I shrug so he doesn’t think it’s a big deal. I don’t want to freak him out right before taping. That’s all I need, an angry, amped-up Andrew Forrester on air with Brandon Eastlake. Drew already thinks Brandon wants me, but then, he thinks every
guy wants me. He’s so freaking jealous sometimes. Is it wrong to say I love it?

  Drew’s gorgeous face screws up into a frown. “I wish I could help you forget all that crap, Syd.”

  “I know babe.” I reach over, take his hand and smile. “It’ll be me watching you from the side of the stage today,” I say lightheartedly, wanting to change the subject. “Although I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in that chair than I was.”

  “You’re probably right. I wanted to run out on that stage and take you somewhere safe. When you were talking to Brandon about your childhood…” He shakes his head at the memory. “Shit Syd, it took every bit of restraint I had to stay away.”

  I try to lighten the mood. “Hopefully, I won’t have to save you this time. All that talk about your new movie and how great you are, you might crack under the pressure.”

  He smiles. “You never know.”

  An hour and a half later, we’re waiting next to the stage while Brandon Eastlake finishes his opening monologue.

  “You’ll be great.” I tilt my head up to be caught by Drew’s intense green eyes.

  “As long as I can see you and know that you’re okay, I’ll be fine.” Drew maintains eye contact and gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

  “I’ll be right here watching.” He takes my hand and kisses my engagement ring sensually, making me forget everyone else around us. When Drew drops his gaze and fixes his jacket, I snap out of it and focus back on my surroundings.

  Brandon is introducing Drew. Here we go, I really hate this.

  “It gives me great pleasure to introduce my next guest. Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you all know him.” Drew shoots me a teasing look, one that says I was that person who used to live under that very rock. “Please welcome, Mind of the Enemy star, Andrew Forrester.”

  Thunderous cheering and applause fills the Late Night Report studio as Drew’s name is announced.

  “See you in a bit,” I say to Drew. He gives me a quick peck on the lips and heads onstage.

  My fiancé looks every bit the famous movie star that he is as he crosses the stage to shake hands with Brandon Eastlake, the host of the show. Drew chose to wear an impeccably tailored dark suit with a light blue dress shirt, skipping the formality of a tie. His dark wavy hair is perfectly messy, giving him a look as though he just rolled out of bed.

  My body responds to his sexy, just-fucked styling, the blood racing through my veins as my heart speeds up.

  Damn, everything he does affects me.

  “Good to see you,” Brandon says as the audience finally calms down.

  “Great to be here Brandon.” Drew waves when a fan calls out his name and then sits gracefully in the plush chair.

  “So, anything interesting happen lately?” Brandon asks, causing the audience to laugh and Drew to smile. He’s clearly referring to all of the drama surrounding us in the tabloids.

  Drew gives the crowd his panty-melting grin. “Uh, not really.” He’s evading the question.

  “Uh huh,” Brandon deadpans, getting another round of laughs from the studio audience.

  They discuss Drew’s movie and show a clip. I watch intently, since I haven’t seen any of it yet. All I know is that Drew and Zane are CIA agents who go undercover in Russia during the Cold War. The short scene is mesmerizing. Drew is brilliant, as usual.

  The audience loves it and cheers when his character kills someone in the short scene. Drew gives them a humble wave and smiles.

  “I have something here you might find interesting,” Brandon says to Drew. He pulls a magazine out from behind his desk and holds it up to the camera. It’s Drew’s “Sexiest Man Alive” issue of People, his gorgeous face filling up the entire cover.

  Embarrassed, Drew covers his face and shakes his head.

  “Nothing to say about this?” Brandon jokes.

  “You know, Brandon, it doesn’t really mean anything. I don’t even know how they decide this stuff. I’m sure there are more deserving guys out there.” He shrugs modestly and smiles. He hates that title, the whole ‘sexiest man’ thing.

  Brandon laughs and asks the audience, “Do you think Andrew here deserved this cover?”

  The audience whoops and cheers, the women shrieking in agreement. Poor Drew looks like he wants to sink right down into the chair and vanish. Brandon lets him off the hook and tosses the magazine onto his desk.

  “So, you know I gotta ask,” Brandon changes the subject fast enough to give me whiplash. “I interviewed a lovely lady a few months back and rumor has it that you’re an item.” The screen behind them shows a photo of me and Drew rushing past paparazzi on the street, him clutching my hand. It changes to a photo of us at my dad’s premiere, Drew tightly holding my left hand as usual to hide my ring. “Well?” Brandon asks.

  Brandon knows damn well that we’re together, this is just another part of the bullcrap media shell game.

  Drew grins, but only says, “Those are great pictures Brandon.”

  Brandon smiles at his evasion, leaning back in his chair. “No comment? Because if she,” he points to me in the photo on the screen, “were my girlfriend, I’d yell it from the rooftops.”

  Ugh! This is mortifying!

  “Brandon, pictures speak so much louder than words, what else can I say?” Drew answers, basically confirming that we’re together.

  The audience hollers and whistles and Drew just gives them a lopsided grin. My stomach clenches with nerves as they discuss our private life. I hate this, so freaking much.

  “Oh I know all about pictures speaking to us, Andrew. What do these say?” Brandon asks with a mischievous look on his face.

  The next picture is a blow-up of my hand at my dad’s premiere and shows a very pixelated, but very obvious diamond, on the palm side of my left ring finger.

  Shit!

  The screen changes to another similar photo, then another. I see Drew squirm in his seat and know that it’s killing him to not just tell everyone about us. His good-natured smile is gone, replaced by a deep ‘v’ between his brows and a straight line where his grin was moments ago.

  “So you know I have to ask, are you, the ultimate single guy, engaged to the lovely Sydney Tannen?” The crowd goes nuts again, clapping and shouting their approval.

  Drew shifts in his chair again. Now I know how he felt when he saw me so uncomfortable on that very stage. I want to run out there and rescue him from the intense scrutiny. I should have just let him tell everyone that we’re engaged, but I can’t. Not yet.

  “Brandon, you’re going to get me in trouble,” Drew says awkwardly, attempting to look casual and unaffected by the question.

  “C’mon, we’re friends right?” Brandon teases.

  “Well,” Drew glares at Brandon seriously. “I thought we were.” Brandon looks a little unsure for a second, then Drew gives him a big fake smile and lets him off the hook.

  Drew glances just off stage where no one else can see me, certainly able to read the fear on my face. His eyes flick back to the host, who is waiting patiently for an answer.

  “I can tell you that we are definitely not engaged Brandon, but you’ll be the first to know.” I release the breath I had been holding, allowing myself to visibly relax, letting my shoulders loosen and unclenching my teeth.

  Thank God.

  The audience lets out a collective groan of disappointment. Who knew that fans wanted us together so badly? Maybe it’s the fact that we’ve faced a ton of obstacles to get here. People love to root for the underdog, don’t they?

  “That’s too bad,” Brandon says to Drew’s adamant denial. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up. She’s quite beautiful and very charming.”

  Drew gives him a scowl. “Keep your hands off Eastlake. You know I had to buy her a TV just to see your ugly mug every night after she made you that promise that she’d watch your show.”

  They laugh and finish the interview smiling. Drew is faking it, his Andrew Forrester mask firmly in place
.

  We wait in the green room after the show, where Drew paces back and forth. He’s angry at being caught off-guard.

  “I don’t see why we can’t just tell them Sydney. This whole thing is so stupid! That fucker Eastlake. He did that shit on purpose to piss me off!”

  “I don’t want that kind of attention, Drew. Can’t we just focus on the press tour right now?” I stay calm for him, using my perfected state of denial so I won’t freak out. “Paparazzi already follow us everywhere. They will go insane if we announce anything. Please.” I beg, pressing my body up against his. “Let’s let all this die down first. I could barely stand it at lunch, I can’t face a crowd ten times that size.”

  He mashes his lips together and I see his jaw muscles flinching. “Fine, but I don’t like it at all.”

  The door opens and Brandon Eastlake walks in, all smiles. I step back from Drew, unsure what he’s going to say about the interview.

  “Sydney! Great to see you again, and under much better circumstances!” He hugs me warmly.

  “Hi Brandon,” I say quietly, waiting for Angry Drew to make his appearance.

  “Eastlake,” Drew says in a low voice. “Don’t grope my girl.”

  The amiable host swings his attention to my fuming fiancé and his eyes widen in surprise. I have no idea if he’s angry with Brandon for the line of questioning or at me for preventing him from answering honestly.

  Brandon slaps Drew on the back and laughs nervously. “You’re not mad at me are you? You know I had no choice, the producers brought me those pics and told me to drill you.” Is it just me or does Drew not like this guy?

  Drew bristles from the ribbing. “I know man, but that was…” he rakes a hand through his tousled hair, “fuckin’ stressful.”

  “Nah, the audience loved it. Denials are part of the game, you know that. It was great, they ate it up,” he says to Drew, flicking his eyes over to my very obvious engagement ring. I stuff my hand in my pocket self-consciously.

  Thankfully, Jane chooses that exact moment to come into the green room and point at her watch.

  “Eastlake, we have to go.” Drew’s voice is cold and detached, but he shakes the host’s hand and ushers me out of the room.