Extremely Famous

by Heather Leigh

  “Syd,” she says sympathetically, “They’re going to eat you alive no matter what. Just tell them on your terms and don’t let my brother bully you.”

  “I won’t. God, he’s going to be so mad when he finds out about the driving and the pier though. Plus, I’m not going to be wearing my ring for a while. I don’t want any more photos to feed the media speculation.”

  “Yeah, he is going to be pretty angry,” she agrees. “But really, what were you thinking? Someone could have attacked you while you slept on the damn public beach!”

  “Okay! I get it! Not my finest moment.”

  “I love you Syd, now go work your magic on my stubborn brother.”

  “If only he were that easy.”

  “I know, right? Bye Syd.”

  “Bye Allie.”

  I hang up the phone and stare out over the city. Drew is going to go through the roof when he hears what I did. Maybe he won’t see the articles and I won’t have to tell him. Yeah right, and maybe he already saw them and that’s why his hand is all fucked up.

  My poor, controlling fiancé. Always stressed out from never being able to actually control anything. Probably because I’m fucked up and constantly make it more difficult for him.

  Do I do it on purpose?

  Allie and Leah think so. I disagree. I’m just being myself and he needs to deal with it. Honestly though, he only gets really upset and violent when something has to do with me. I’m the trigger, whether directly or indirectly, it’s always my fault.

  To keep myself busy so I won’t run inside and wake Drew up, I decide to check my email. I immediately notice that there’s one from the office.

  To: Sydney Tannen

  From: Bridget Williams

  Sydney,

  We have a client that wants a complete redesign of their corporate apartment on 6th Ave. in SoHo. They’ve specifically requested your services. It’s a $28 million 3 story penthouse and it’s stunning, but could use an update. They want to start ASAP so let me know if you’re available.

  Bridget

  I open the attachment that she sent containing dozens of photos of the apartment. Bridget didn’t do it justice. It’s not stunning, it’s more than that. It’s beyond words. It’s 6,000 square feet of a designer and architectural lover’s wet dream. The desire to get access to that home is like an itch I need to scratch. I want it, badly and it’s only two blocks from my loft.

  I type out a response asking when would be the latest date I would need to start and hit send.

  Loud clanging from the kitchen lets me know that Drew is finally out of bed, so I go inside to face his wrath. I quietly walk into the small space and see him leaning over the sink, one hand braced on the edge and the other fisted against his forehead, his eyes tightly shut. He doesn’t look pissed, he looks devastated.

  “Drew?” I ask from the doorway.

  His head lifts slowly to look at me. He is a mess. Bloodshot eyes, wrinkled clothes and messy hair, my anger melts away and I want to comfort him but I’m not sure if he’d let me.

  “Do you want some coffee?”

  He stands up straight and rubs his hands down his face. “Yeah, sure,” he says, his voice hoarse. Jesus, he was probably yelling at Rhys all night.

  I move to pour him a cup and he watches me warily, not moving or attempting to touch me. I hand him the mug and lean on the opposite counter so I can face him.

  “Thanks,” he whispers as he takes the mug from me.

  “Are you okay?”

  He takes a sip and thinks a minute before answering me. “No, not really.”

  “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  Drew gives me a sad look. “No, I can’t Sydney.”

  I stand there, open-mouthed, at a loss for words. I hate when he hides shit in the name of ‘protecting’ me.

  “This is bullshit and you know it,” I snap.

  I refuse to cry again so I harden my features and storm out of the room.

  This is not a good idea, I know it. It’s my typical M.O. when things get bad, I run away. As I pull my bag out of the closet, I silently convince myself that I’m not running away. There’s a job offer, a really good one that I want, and it just happens to start soon. Getting away from the press tour and the paparazzi is just a bonus.

  And Drew needs less stress. Clearly, when I’m around, it throws him into these horrific, volatile moods. He needs to stop driving himself crazy trying to protect me from everything and anything that could possibly happen.

  I had been looking forward to this trip, foolishly thinking that getting away from New York would be good for us. The damn media, especially with this big movie coming out, is unavoidable. They follow us everywhere, they always will, and when we’re together it’s a thousand times worse.

  I jam my clothes into the suitcase and grab my stuff from the bathroom, dumping it on top. I flop on the bed and send a quick text to Jane, asking her to get me a flight back to New York for later today. Throwing down my phone I sigh and press the heels of my hands into my eyes.

  I so don’t want to have this conversation with Drew. It’s just like Vancouver all over again. At least this time, he’ll only be gone another week or so and I’ll be at home instead of another country.

  “Are you leaving?”

  I shoot upright on the bed and see Drew near the door, cautiously eyeing my suitcase.

  “Work called, they have a job for me in New York. Near my loft,” I say nervously. He is falling apart right in front of me. Maybe I shouldn’t go. As angry as I am at being shut out, I don’t want to leave him if he needs me. “I’ll stay with you if you want.”

  Drew comes in and sits next to me with a sigh, the bed sinking under his weight.

  “I’m driving you away again, aren’t I?” His voice is wavering slightly.

  “No babe, no. That’s not it.” I scoot over until our bodies are touching and wrap my arm around him, needing the comfort of his skin against mine. “I just got the email this morning. It’s a remodel of a $28 million corporate apartment. I really want to do this. I’ll take Evan and Steve or whoever you want with me.” See? I’m reasonable.

  He visibly deflates at my words, his shoulders roll forward and his head hangs down.

  “Fuck Syd. Everything’s all fucked up.” He swipes at his hair and looks up at me. I see the pure anger on his face.

  “What’s fucked up Drew? Did I fuck up?” I ask him, wondering if he’s talking about my secret excursions.

  His expression softens and I can see the helplessness in his eyes. “No, you didn’t. You should take the job, Sydney.”

  Okay, I wanted him to not be angry, but I’m upset that he doesn’t want me to stay with him. How irrational is that?

  “You… you want me to leave?” I choke.

  He stands up and starts his relentless pacing. “No I don’t want you to leave, but I need to get you away from those… those fucking photographers!” he yells. Both hands are now on his head, fisting his hair in frustration.

  So it is about my excursions. I swallow loudly. “Drew, I won’t go anywhere without one of the guys again, I promise. I didn’t think going to the beach was going to be a problem. I even wore a hat so they wouldn’t recognize me…” I stop as I watch his expression go from angry to downright furious.

  “What?” His hands drop from his head and he clenches his fists to calm down. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he slowly speaks. “You went to the beach… without protection?”

  Holy shit! He didn’t know. Then what is he so pissed at?

  “Well, I mean… I guess I didn’t think…” I don’t bother trying to explain. His eyes are flashing with rage. The shame I feel is a thousand times worse than I thought it would be if he found out.

  “Sydney, you cahnt fuckin’ go out without a mothahfuckin’ bodyguahd! Jesus Christ! You know this!” His loud New England voice fills the room. Hello! Angry Drew is here.

>   I drop my eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry.” I’m mortified by my complete disregard for his feelings.

  “Fuck!” he yells and stomps into the closet. He comes out wearing just a towel around his waist and goes into the bathroom. I hear the shower start and sit frozen to my spot on the bed.

  So he wasn’t angry about the photos of me with his co-star and he didn’t know I went out by myself. What the hell was he so furious at on the phone last night? Why did he storm out to meet Rhys and come back drunk with bloody knuckles?

  I grab my phone and call Rhys, determined to get him to tell me what the hell is going on.

  “Sydney? Is everything okay?” Rhys asks, picking up on the first ring.

  “Not really.” I steel myself and go for it. “Can you tell me why Drew came home drunk with bruises all over his hand?”

  Silence.

  Wonderful, the boys’ club is going to protect its own.

  “Rhys? It’s important. I have to go back to New York for work but I don’t want to leave him if he’s unstable or something is going on that will require me to be with him.” Maybe spinning it so it’s in Drew’s best interest will get him to talk. I pick at a thread on the comforter as I wait for a response.

  Rhys sighs heavily into the phone. “Sydney, I can’t tell you, but I will let you know that he’s not angry at you or anything you did. It’s a PR thing and I’m taking care of it. Go home and work. We’ll be done with the tour in a week and a half. I’ll be with Drew the whole time,” he says to me kindly, handling me with the same kid gloves as Drew.

  “I’m so sick and tired of being treated like a child, Rhys!” I yell into the phone.

  “I’m sorry Sydney. It’s not anything you need to be stressed out about.”

  “This is bullshit Rhys and you know it. I seem to bring out the worst in him. Was he always angry and blowing up at people and punching things before he met me?”

  More silence.

  “So it is me.”

  “No Sydney. It’s not you.” Rhys exhales and I can hear the exhaustion pouring out in that one breath. He’s also had to deal with Angry Drew. Certainly he’s just as tired and frustrated as I am. “You know how he is. He likes everything to be exactly the way it’s supposed to be, ordered and controlled.”

  “Yes.” There’s a pause, probably as Rhys decides how much to tell me.

  “You throw a wrench into his tidy little world where he only has to worry about his next job or his next interview. He can’t keep the paparazzi and fans from getting to you. That’s what makes him blow up, not you. He hasn’t been like this since eager women kept bugging his mother at her school, forcing her to quit. Something he couldn’t stop or control. That drove him just as crazy, Syd.”

  “So he’d be better without me around?”

  “No!” Rhys says quickly. “He’s happier with you too. You magnify the happiness in his life. Unfortunately, your relationship magnifies the negative aspects of fame as well. Stuff he barely tolerated before he met you is a thousand times worse and now it affects more than just him.”

  “I guess I understand Rhys. He doesn’t care if fans bug him but it drives him absolutely nuts if they involve me or bother me.”

  “Exactly Sydney. He can’t stop the fans or the paparazzi from approaching you, but anger isn’t going to fix it. He just needs to learn a better way to cope with it is all,” Rhys says.

  “Like what?”

  Rhys snorts. “If I knew that, I would tell you. Listen, I have to go. Drew has that final interview and then the flight for Toronto leaves at four. Will I see you there?”

  I pause before answering, staring at the closed bathroom door. “I don’t know Rhys. I have to figure this out.”

  “Okay, well I’ll either see you later today or when we stop in New York in a few days before going overseas.”

  “Alright, bye. And thanks Rhys.”

  “Anytime Syd, bye.”

  I toss the phone on the bed and wait for Drew to finish his shower. A text from Jane comes in letting me know my flight is due to leave at 8pm. Great, that’s not for another eight hours or so. I’m so fidgety there’s no way I’ll be able to sit around until then.

  Drew comes out of the bathroom and stalks into the closet to get dressed.

  “Drew?” I call out from my seat on the bed.

  He slowly walks over to me wearing only a loose pair of jeans, his tan muscles moving gracefully as he takes each step.

  “Yes,” he says calmly, his voice defying the fire I see in his unwavering stare.

  “Ummm,” I’m momentarily speechless from the sight of his perfect abs just a few feet away. Closing my eyes, I focus my thoughts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you by going out alone. I’m going to go back to New York to work. Hopefully, if we’re apart for a few days, the media won’t be as interested in us.”

  “Yeah right,” he scoffs. Kneeling in front of me, Drew takes my face in his large, rough hands. “I’m not mad at you Syd,” he says gently. “Well, I am mad at you for going out without protection, but that’s not why I’m mad.”

  “I know. I wish you would tell me.”

  “It’s nothing for you to worry about.” Drew leans in and touches his forehead to mine. “Shit, you’re not leaving me are you Syd?”

  “No!” I yell louder than I meant to, startling Drew. “I mean no. I just really want to do this job. You should see this apartment Drew, it’s just ... there’s no way to describe it.”

  He attempts a smile, but it’s more sad than anything else. “I can see how excited you are babe. Go. I’ll be fine.” Then his eyes turn dark and his features harden. “But you will take one of the guys with you everywhere you go.”

  “I will.” I’ll do whatever he says to keep him happy. I hate having them around, witnessing every emotion that I have, but I’ll keep my promise.

  “I mean it Sydney. If something were to happen to you like back in March, and I could have prevented it…” he stops and swallows, squeezing his eyes shut. “I couldn’t live with myself.”

  When he opens his eyes I see pain. Pain from the memories of the attack at his premiere. I don’t ever want to see that look on his face again. A look that I’m putting there with my selfishness and inability to accept my new reality.

  “I promise. I won’t go out without them again.” Hesitantly, I lean in and kiss him on his soft lips.

  “I’m trusting you with this, Syd. I love you.”

  “I know, I love you too. Can I go with you to your interview? I have a few hours until my flight.”

  Drew smiles, and this time it’s genuine. “I would like that. Anyway, we have to get Evan and Steve on your flight with you.”

  Right. How could I have forgotten that?

  CHAPTER 18

  “Hey Sydney! Are you on your way to the office?”

  Bethany Williams’ cheery voice puts a smile on my grouchy face.

  “Hi Bethany, not yet. I want to get over to the apartment and see it in person. You know, do some measurements and check out the lighting.”

  I’m sitting at the island in Drew’s massive kitchen, drinking a huge cup of coffee and staring at my exhausted reflection in the stainless steel wall oven. After taking the red eye into JFK early this morning, I needed a massive jolt of caffeine to wake up my brain.

  This is a concession I made that I’m not very happy with. Drew adamantly insisted I stay at his place because there are enough bedrooms for Steve and Evan to stay with me so I never have to be alone. He doesn’t want me to have to call them to come over, not believing me when I said that I would call them and wouldn’t just jump in a cab by myself. I was pissed when he told me, but relented, not wanting to start another huge fight. Plus he’s right, I would just jump in a cab and not call Evan or Steve and I made a promise I intend to keep.

  “Evan, I’m ready to leave,” I call out to the big man on the couch in the sitting area of the kitchen.

  He gets up and puts his own coffee mug in the sink w
ith a clatter. “Okay Miss Tannen. Bruce is in the garage waiting for us.” That was the other concession I made. Drew insisted that only Bruce was allowed to drive me anywhere and promptly put him on the flight with us back to New York.

  I grab my bag and my phone and we head down to the garage. Less than ten minutes and six blocks later, we’re pulling up in front of a fourteen story brick building with a non-descript entrance.

  “Bruce, we’ll be upstairs for a while. Did you want to come back?”

  He turns to look at me in the back seat, embarrassment evident on his kind features. “I’m supposed to stay with you Sydney. I’ll be right out here.”

  I roll my eyes and let Evan open the door for me. I’m sure Drew gave him hell after he let me walk from the Village Coffee Bar the day Adam Reynolds followed me home. There’s no way he’ll do that again.

  The concierge takes my business card and checks a list at the desk.

  “You may go right up ma’am. Elevator on the left, push PH1,” he says, nodding in the correct direction with a tilt of his head.

  When the doors open on the penthouse level, I use an electric keypad to punch in the code that Bethany gave me to get into the apartment. As I open the door and step inside I’m so stunned by the beauty of the apartment that I stop short and Evan plows into my back, almost knocking me down.

  Evan’s large hands grip my shoulders to steady me before I land on my backside. “Sorry Miss Tannen.”

  I look out the huge windows and back around the room. “It’s my fault Evan. Have you ever seen anything like this?”

  He snorts, “Uhhh, no. Not really.”

  I turn around in the massive space. The penthouse is three open floors of dark woods, white walls and steel accents; with the entire back wall of the three story space made of glass. The views of uptown are magnificent.

  “I think I’m in love,” I say to myself. Touching every surface that’s within arms reach.

  We stay all morning as I measure and make notes. I won’t have a real idea of what needs to be done until I speak to the client so there’s only so much I can do. Evan does a great job of holding the other end of my measuring tape.