Reluctantly Famous

by Heather Leigh

  “Hey, what’s up? Need help with that?”

  The cute blonde wrinkles her nose at me. When she looks up to find me smiling, her eyes go wide. “Uhhh, yes. I need help. I mean, a changing room. I need a changing room.”

  Chuckling, I lead her over to an empty stall and unlock it. “My name’s Declan. Let me know if you need anything.” I wink at the stunned girl before walking back to the pile of faded jeans I was folding.

  Another attractive girl heads my way, clothes in hand. “Hey! What’s going on?” I make sure to use the company taglines when I greet each customer. Abercrombie & Fitch insists that we not only look a certain way on the sales floor, but that we use certain phrases from the employee handbook.

  She stutters, blinking several times before speaking so low I can hardly hear her. “No. Just a fitting room please.”

  “Sure.” I unlock another stall and hold the door open for the tall brunette. “My name’s Declan. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “You have got to stop doing that.”

  I spin around to find my co-worker, Bree laughing as she shoves a few items onto their proper racks.

  “What? I didn’t do anything?”

  “You keep smiling and standing around all… hot.” She waves her hand vaguely in my direction.

  “I can’t help how I look, Bree.” I try to sound petulant and fail, miserably.

  She huffs. “Yeah, I know. I hate that you’re prettier than me.”

  I pull back in mock horror. “Pretty? I’m not pretty!”

  Bree grins. “You know exactly what I mean,” she says. “One of these days, a customer is going to faint. Then they’ll fire you for injuring her.”

  I can’t smother the laugh that escapes. “That’s… that’s just…”

  “Accurate?”

  “Stupid.”

  “Hi. I don’t need these.” Cute Blonde is standing in front of me, clutching a pile of clothes.

  “I can take them for you.” I give her my best smile.

  “Ummmm, yeah. Okay.” She hands me a few items, her face and neck flushed red. When I take them from her, she presses a piece of paper into my hand.

  “Maybe I’ll see you again,” she whispers before fleeing for the checkout.

  “Well?” Bree asks me, hands on hips.

  I can’t answer her, because Tall Brunette is approaching.

  “I don’t need these.” Tall Brunette holds out a pair of jeans, waiting for me to take them.

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Be sure to check the pockets,” she murmurs, her breath close enough to my ear to send a shiver down my spine.

  I smile politely. “I certainly will.”

  She winks, gives Bree a scowl, and then heads out of the store.

  “Right. You’re right. No one will ever swoon to death at your feet,” Bree jokes, glancing at the two phone numbers I’m clutching in my hand. “Hot, nice, and super smart? Mmm-hmm. Not swoon-worthy at all.”

  “Hey, all in a day’s work, Bree. All in a day’s work.”

  “I have to go,” Tall Brunette says as she climbs out of my bed. She shrugs into her clothes and grabs her purse. “Thanks for the good time.”

  The door of the apartment I share with two other guys bangs shut before I can even get out of bed.

  “Crap.” I scrub my hands down my face, sighing. Noise from the common area lets me know at least one roommate is home. Now I’ll have to take shit about bringing another girl home.

  Too tired to bother getting dressed, I throw on a pair of loose athletic pants. It’s cold out, but I don’t put on a shirt. Tall Brunette was wild in bed, so I’m feeling pretty warm.

  “Nice.” Fred, my roommate and classmate at the University of Pennsylvania grins at me from his spot on the couch where he’s playing Xbox. “She was hot, Dex.”

  “Yeah.” I trudge into the kitchen and grab a Gatorade out of the fridge, chugging down most of it right away.

  “What’s her name?” Fred asks as he shoots another enemy soldier.

  “Don’t know. She didn’t stay long enough for me to find out.” I drop onto the couch next to Fred.

  “They never do,” he scoffs.

  “So, did you study for the advanced business statistics final?” I ask Fred, eager to change the subject.

  “Yep. You?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to hit the library in a minute.” I slug down the rest of my Gatorade and put my feet up on the coffee table.

  “Sure you are.”

  “I am.”

  Fred laughs. “You hardly study, Dex. You probably don’t even have to.”

  “That’s not true,” I tell him. He’s right though. I don’t have to study. I do it because it feels wrong not to. My stellar grades and my Irish immigrant parents’ tiny bank account got me a full ride to UPenn’s Wharton School of Business. I refuse to take it for granted, even if it means studying subjects I can recite in my sleep.

  I get up from the couch to change my clothes. “See you later,” Fred calls out.

  “Yep. Later.”

  “Hi.”

  Startled, I spin around in my chair. A gorgeous girl is standing behind my favorite study spot in the library, fidgeting while waiting for me to speak.

  “Ummmm, hi?” I phrase it as a question because I’m not sure if I know her or not.

  “I was studying over there with my friends.” She points to a nearby table where two giggling girls are watching us. “And I wanted to say hi.”

  “Okay.” Puzzled, I wait for her to continue.

  “Do you want to hook up sometime?”

  Is this girl coming on to me at the library?

  “Well…” I try to think of an excuse to let her down easy. She’s hot and all, but I’m too busy to deal with this right now. Finals are gearing up and I have a full work schedule because of the holidays.

  “I’m not looking for a boyfriend,” she clarifies, making sure I know she’s only out for casual sex.

  “I understand, but…”

  “Are you on the soccer team?” she interrupts.

  “No, but…”

  “Swim team then?” Her eyebrows rise hopefully.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You must play something. No one gets that body without being a top athlete.” She leers at me and not for the first time in my life, I feel dirty. “Are you a model?”

  “No. I don’t play anything and I’m not a model. I’m in the Wharton School of Business, actually.” I scowl at the girl. “If you don’t mind, I’m studying.” Irritated beyond belief, I return to my books and put my earphones on, but don’t hit play on my iPod yet. I want to make sure I can hear her leave.

  The girl huffs and stalks back to her friends. Certain I can’t hear her, she complains, “What guy that hot turns down a no strings fuck?”

  “He’s probably gay,” one of her friends says.

  The girl responds by laughing. “He thinks he’s smart or something, highly unlikely. The hot ones never are.” They laugh as they pick up their books and take off.

  My fists clench on my thighs in anger. I turn on some music before I do something stupid. An hour later, I still can’t focus on studying. Pissed that I let her get to me, I throw my books into my bag and stomp out of the library. The walk home in the bitter cold numbs my anger. By the time I get back to the apartment, I’ve almost forgotten about the rude girl’s nasty comments.

  “Yeah! Go. Go. Go.”

  “Wooooooooooh!”

  Loud cheers accompany the music that pours out of my apartment and into the musty hallway.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, pressing my forehead on the front door. All I want is to take a shower and crash. It seems that one or both of my roommates have other plans.

  I close the door behind me, hoping I can make it through the crowd in the living room without being spotted.

  “Dex!”

  “Hey man!”

  Crap. No such luck.

  “Dex, we’re having a pre-finals p
arty! Join us.” My other roommate, Seth, throws his arm around my shoulders.

  I wince at the blast of stale beer from his breath as it hits me like a Mac truck. “Nah, I got work tomorrow.” A double shift at the store, plus drive time and my day is going to be long.

  “Come on!” He pulls me over to a group of girls, refusing to release his tight grip. “Ladies, this is my roommate, Dex. Dex,” he slurs, “these are the ladies.”

  “Oooh, Seth. You didn’t say how hot your roommate was.”

  “Dex, hi.”

  “Hey.”

  The girls smile and preen and their eyes scan me up and down like a piece of meat at a market. The incident from the library comes back full force, pissing me off all over again. I twist out of Seth’s hold and beeline for my room, shutting and locking the door behind me.

  My heart is pounding against my ribcage. “Shit.” I rub a hand over my chest, unsure of what just happened. Whatever it was, I don’t like it. I take a slip of paper off of my nightstand and stare at it for a long time. Frowning, I tear up the phone number that I got from the Cute Blond yesterday at work, and let the pieces fall to the carpet.

  Fuck.

  Chapter 3

  Allie – now

  “So you’re going to the UK?”

  I try so hard not to roll my eyes. It actually physically hurts to hold back, that’s how badly I want to do it.

  “Well, we are on a plane to Heathrow.” I tilt my head towards my seatmate. He’s around my age, twenty-five, and cute, but too stupid for my taste.

  “Yeah, I didn’t think about that. So, what’s in London?”

  Fuck, really dude? All I want to do is close my eyes and try to get some sleep. Genius over here wants to chat. Wonderful.

  “My brother’s girlfriend. I’m going to visit her.”

  Why would I tell this guy about Sydney? I must be more tired than I thought. It’s going to be a nightmare dealing with the media in London that’s been hounding her and Drew, but getting away from the hospital for a while will be worth it.

  “Cool. I’m going to be in a movie.” Genius leans over into my space.

  That wakes me up. “Movie? What movie?”

  Genius smiles. In his mind, my change in attitude is because I’m impressed that he’s going to be in a movie. Fat chance. When your brother is Andrew Forrester, one of the highest paid actors in the world, things like that don’t impress you. Unless you’re Ryker Bancroft. I’m looking forward to hanging out with him.

  “The new Quantum Stranger film. I play Elliott Stryker.”

  Great. So I’m probably going to run into Genius at some point since Sydney’s best friend is dating Ryker, the star of that movie.

  “Interesting.” That’s all I can come up with to say to him.

  “My name’s Jeremy. Jeremy Morales.” He sticks out his hand and I reluctantly shake it. I can’t ignore the guy. I’m stuck next to him for the next seven hours.

  “Hi Jeremy. I’m Allie.” I don’t give him my last name. He’s in the industry and might make the connection between Drew and me.

  “Allie, niiiiice.” Jeremy smiles his perfectly straight, white smile again. His dark eyes shine with lust, or maybe just superficial interest. Either way, I don’t care.

  Ew! That’s just too bad buddy.

  “Well, I’m going to listen to music now, Jeremy. Nice to meet you.” I pull out the noise-cancelling headphones that Drew bought me last Christmas and plug in my mp3 player. With a dramatic flick of my fingers, I hit play so there’s no doubt that Jeremy saw me do it, and let the acoustic sounds of Boyce Avenue surround me.

  From the corner of my eye, I can tell that Jeremy is shocked that I’m not into him. Figures. Good-looking, actor, sitting in first class… he’s probably used to girls tripping over each other to get to him. He’s barking up the wrong tree then, because none of that crap impresses me. Not since it bit me in the ass.

  Allie – then

  “What Beth! I’ve had a really bizarre morning. I’m not in the mood to talk.” I flop down dramatically on my bed and pull a pillow over my face.

  The pillow is whipped off and my roommate sits down next to me. “It’s important, Allie.”

  Ugh! “Fine.” I swing my legs around and sit next to her. “What’s the big deal?”

  All of a sudden, Beth looks nervous, like she’s afraid to ask me something. “I heard some gossip today.”

  “Oh thank God. Can you tell me what the hell is going on? Everyone has been acting like they’re from another planet and it’s really freaking me out.” I patiently wait for her explanation, but all Beth does is stare at her hands. “Beth!”

  “Sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just a stupid sounding question, I guess.”

  “Listen, I’ve held your hair back while you’ve barfed up a kidney. I’ve slept in the common room so you could hook up with that lacrosse player. I watched you fall in the quad in a skirt with no underwear on. I think we’re past all that.”

  “Brad. That’s the lacrosse player.”

  I glare at her and she wilts a little. “Brad, right. Anyway, just ask me the damn question, Beth.”

  “Are you Andrew Forrester’s sister?”

  I freeze up, unable to answer. My mouth gapes open and suddenly it feels as though I can’t get enough air to my lungs. I think Beth is still talking to me, but I can’t quite hear what she’s saying. I’m too busy focusing on taking in deep breaths, gulping down each one as if it’s my last. Drew said not to tell anyone, but he didn’t say I couldn’t confirm other people’s suspicions.

  “Allie! You’re scaring me!”

  I snap my mouth shut, forcing myself to concentrate long enough to answer Beth.

  “Where did you hear that?” My voice is faint, raspy, probably from the shock of her question. I never told anyone here about Drew. Not one single person. Whenever anyone asked about my last name and if we were related, I laughed it off.

  “Everyone.” Beth fidgets uncomfortably. “I guess at that party Saturday night, at Rafael’s place, you showed a bunch of people some pictures on your phone.”

  My head is spinning. I don’t remember doing that. Honestly, I don’t remember doing anything that night. One of the many dangers of drinking way too much alcohol.

  “Tina, you know, Rafael’s girlfriend, said that you were snapping pictures of the party and she asked to see one. But when you brought up the picture roll, it was of Andrew Forrester and you, like… a selfie with him.”

  The coffee in my stomach roils, threatening to make a reappearance.

  “Well, she freaked out and then took your phone and showed everybody at the party. And I mean everybody. Now the entire campus is talking about it. So…?”

  Beth stares at me, eyebrows raised, waiting for a response.

  “I don’t think… I mean… I’m not sure…”

  “Al, I’m your roommate and best friend. You can tell me.” She throws an arm around my shoulders and hugs me tight.

  “Yes, he’s my brother.” My voice is barely audible.

  “Holy shit,” she mutters.

  “I know.” Drew is gonna be so pissed, that’s why I’m not telling him. I don’t need that kind of shitstorm in my life.

  Then my roommate’s serious expression brightens, her scowl becomes a wide grin. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard. God, Allie, you’re like, a celebrity or something.”

  I smile back, enjoying Beth’s excitement. “Not really, well, sort of. He’s the celebrity, not me.”

  “Well, I have a feeling that’s all going to change, Al.”

  After the shitty day I’ve had so far, the thought of everyone on campus adoring me, knowing who I am, sounds wonderful. Like my tiny group of friends just expanded to include the entire B.C. campus.

  “Yeah, it is.” I’m so giddy I might explode from the exhilaration of it.

  Like they say, hindsight is 20/20.

  Allie – now

  Okay, so Ryker Bancroft is just as hot in person
as he is on the screen. Plus, he’s a really cool guy. I can say that because I just got back from spending an entire day watching him film the new Quantum Stranger sequel.

  “God, Allie. You’re not even in London twenty-four hours and you’ve fixed Syd’s relationship and helped her get her head on straight. Now, if you can just figure out who’s recording her.” Leah stares at me in awe as we take the elevator up to mine and Syd’s suite at the Warren.

  “True,” I say. “If only I hadn’t lost that magic wand I used to have, imagine what I could do?”

  Sydney laughs while Leah scrunches her face up, unamused.

  “The guys will be back soon, so we need to get ready,” Leah says sternly. “Especially Allie, since Dex and her were making lovey eyes all day at the set.”

  I scoff. “Lovey eyes? What the hell is that?”

  Syd and Leah share a look. “You couldn’t stop drooling over each other,” Syd points out. “It’s okay. He’s hot.”

  “He’s really smart too,” Leah adds. “Like super smart.”

  “Huh, I like smart guys. Well, I think I would. I wouldn’t know. Every single guy I’ve ever dated was a total tool.” Not that I’ve dated much.

  Leah chuckles while Syd stifles hers in an attempt to be polite.

  Leah puts her hand on my arm, her eyes serious. “I can tell you without hesitation, that Declan Foster is not a tool. We’re all going out tonight and you can see for yourself. He told me he was discovered while working as an Abercrombie model in New York. That’s how he got into acting, but he went to college for something else, I just can’t remember what.”

  I really hope she’s right. Between every idiot I’ve dated and Genius on the plane, I’m pretty fed up with tools.

  The VIP area of club whatever-its-called is a welcome respite from the crowded dance floor. Dancing body to body is fun, but sweaty.

  “It’s so hot in here,” Leah whines, holding her frozen beverage up to her forehead.

  “That’s because you haven’t stopped dancing since we got here.” Ryker puts on a fake pout, crossing his arms over his chest.