Reluctantly Famous

by Heather Leigh

  The look on my face must be pretty horrific, because no one presses me for more information.

  “I’m… I’m going to go upstairs.” Before anyone can stop me, I bolt for my room. My chest feels tight, as if an elephant is pressing down on it, making it hard to breathe. The only thing I can do is curl up into a little ball on the bed and pray that it goes away.

  I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I know, my bed is sagging under the weight of another person, and a hand gently rubs my back.

  “Allie, what’s going on?”

  Drew.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I say from under the thick blankets I’ve piled on top of me.

  “Come up here and sit with me. I haven’t seen you in what, a few months?”

  Reluctantly, I leave my warm cocoon, throwing off the covers to sit with my back against the huge white headboard of my bed. A bed bought by my brother, to fit the new house because he wanted us safe from his fans. I laugh to myself at the irony of it all. Drew moved us to this huge house to keep us safe, and the second I left it, I was exposed and vulnerable.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Oh, I didn’t know I laughed out loud. Nothing’s funny.”

  “Then what is it?”

  My eyes fill with tears when I see the way Drew is looking at me. He’s worried, really worried. I hate that. He did everything he could to protect us, but Mom is still stalked at work and I was still attacked at school. Never in a million years did I think my brother’s job would impact our lives so much.

  “I can’t tell you, Drew.”

  “Can’t or won’t.” His face twists with my betrayal. “We’ve always been close, Al. Don’t shut me out.”

  That’s all it takes to send me over the edge. I start sobbing, great big ugly, heaving sobs. Drew gathers me up in his arms and just holds me. Lets me cry until I’m spent, snotty and wet and gross.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “Don’t be sorry to need me. Ever. Are you quitting school?”

  “I don’t know.” For some reason, I don’t want to mention applying to pharmacy school. Probably because I can’t take the disappointment if I don’t get in.

  “I’m looking for a new assistant. Why don’t you take some time off and work with me?”

  I smile for the first time all night. “What happened to Kelly?”

  Drew groans. “God she was awful. I couldn’t work with her anymore. I found out she was using my name to get all kinds of perks for herself.” His body stiffens underneath me. “If I can’t trust her, I can’t work with her.”

  If there’s one thing my brother is big on, it’s trust. “Yeah, well, I can’t say I’m sad. She was a bitch,” I scoff.

  “I have to say I’m surprised you feel that way. Why didn’t you say anything?” Drew’s eyebrows are arched high, waiting for my answer.

  I shrug, which is difficult to do from his within his tight hold. “It’s not my place. She worked for you, not me. If you wanted my opinion, you’d ask.”

  “Well, I’m asking. Work with me, Al. It’ll be great. Travel, fun…”

  I interrupt, “My big brother acting all possessive and fatherly, squashing any attempt for me to have that fun.”

  He chuckles, his deep voice rumbling in my ear where it’s pressed against his chest. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  “I know.” I smile against his shirt and he squeezes me comfortingly.

  “Al, did something happen at school? See, I’ve been trying to figure out why you would just leave. You’re not a quitter. Your grades were good until your final exams. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Drew, please.” My voice sounds strangled.

  “Shhhhh, it’s okay. I’m not going to force you to tell me. But hear this. I have a feeling I know what happened, and God help anyone who dared to touch a single hair on your head. Say the word, I will take care of it for you.”

  I know. That’s why I can’t tell you. And I love you for it.

  Chapter 8

  Declan – now

  “Dex, you’re a nervous wreck. Just call her.” Ryker is grinning at me from his spot in the makeup chair next to mine.

  “Shut up, Ry. She just left two days ago. And I don’t want to discuss it here.” My eyes flick up to Micah, the friendly, middle-aged woman who has been doing my makeup since the first Quantum Stranger film.

  “Dex honey, you know I could care less what you talk about.” She smiles so big I can see it in the huge mirror. “All I care about is making sure today’s scrapes and scabs match up with yesterday’s. So try to sit still while you two gossip like teenage girls.”

  I laugh at her joke. Micah has two teenagers at home, so I’m quite sure she would know how they act. Ryker, however, looks affronted, which makes me laugh even harder.

  “Ow!” I rub the back of my head where Micah just swatted me. “What’s that for?”

  “You moved. Now I have to fix the bruise on your cheek. Sit still or I’ll smack you harder next time.”

  “Maybe we should talk later,” Ryker says seriously. His eyes are wide, watching every move Micah makes.

  His uneasiness doesn’t escape her sharp eyes. “Honey,” she says, turning to face Ryker, “you don’t need to be afraid of me.” He snaps his gaping mouth shut. “Unless you move while I’m doing your makeup. Then, you should run for your life.”

  Ryker turns pale and swallows, nodding his head in agreement. His makeup artist comes into the room so Ry uses it as a chance to escape the conversation.

  Micah and I make eye contact in the mirror and both burst out laughing at the same time.

  At least my life is never boring.

  I fiddle with my phone for at least thirty minutes before getting up the courage to call Allie. Why I’m nervous, I have no idea. She’s sweet and funny, and most importantly, she asked me to call. Plus, that kiss. Jesus, just thinking about it makes me hard. Those soft lips, her sweet taste, I haven’t felt this way ever.

  Turns out, this shit is hard when you’re looking for more an easy lay and you actually have to talk to each other. And when Allie was here, boy we did talk. A lot. About all kinds of things, and not once was it weird. She’s smart and funny and loved my nerdy sense of humor.

  Get it together, Foster. You’re such an idiot.

  Feeling immensely stupid at my nervousness, I push send.

  “Dex?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. How are you doing?” I slowly let out a breath of relief when I hear her voice. Hearing her brings me right back to where I was when we were together, comfortable, content, and generally just happy to be in her presence.

  “Good, well, you know. Okay I guess.”

  That’s a pretty vague answer and I have a feeling it’s not true, because she sounds miserable. She wasn’t looking forward to going back home, worrying about her coworkers’ reactions to the articles.

  “What do you mean? Did you go back to work yet?”

  “Yes. Yesterday. I-I don’t think I can stay there.”

  “What, like quit your job?” I’m sure I sound appropriately horrified when I probably should have tried to sound more supportive. But damn, quit because of an article?

  “Quit, yes. It’s too… weird at work. All day the only thing I did was fend off questions about Drew. It’s exhausting.”

  “But eventually everyone will get over it, right?”

  “No Dex, it doesn’t work that way. It didn’t in college and it won’t at the hospital. I can’t go through that again.”

  Allie sounds as if she’s on the brink of tears, so I change the subject.

  “Hey, I wanted to let you know that can come to your brother’s charity event on the fourth.”

  “Really?” That turned her bad mood around quickly.

  I know this charity is really important to her. In the U.K. we spent hours talking about why Drew set up the foundation that sends teachers into hospitals to help kids stay in school while they’re sick. Her mom is one
of the volunteer teachers and family friends run the charity.

  “Yep. I even got my plane ticket. I’ll be back in L.A. by then, so I’ll fly into Logan from there.”

  I think about being back in my depressing hotel rental by myself instead of with Allie every night. It makes me shudder.

  “I’m so excited, Dex! You have no idea. Ryker told you that he’s going with Leah, right? They’re driving up from New York.”

  I let Allie talk about the night and all of the events they have planned, content to sit back and savor her happiness.

  It seems as if somehow, over the course of the last week and a half, Allie Forrester’s happiness has become my top priority. I never thought I would put someone else’s needs above my own, especially after my parents made me feel like shit for doing just that.

  Declan – then

  “Declan, yer ma and I just don’t get it. You spent yer whole life tryin’ to get a good job and a college degree. Now you’ve got it, and yer trowin’ it away!”

  My dad’s Irish lilt sounds harsher than normal when he’s angry. Twenty-five years in the U.S. and he still has the same accent as the day he got here.

  “Dad! I’m not throwing it away! I can make more money this way, help you guys out. Then I can get a job with my degree after that, in a year or two.”

  I sit helplessly at my parents’ chipped Formica table in their tiny row house in a very Irish section of Philadelphia. My dad is pacing the small room, glaring at me angrily while my mom sits across from me, wringing her hands. It smells just like it has since I was a kid. A mix of Pine Sol, the sausages my dad eats every morning, and that damn floral candle Ma insists on burning.

  “We don’ understand, son.” My mom reaches across the table for my hand. “You finally got what yer wanted and yer suddenly movin’ to New York to be what… a model?”

  My younger brother, Garrett covers his mouth and giggles. I turn and scowl at him. “Is there a reason you’re here, Garrett? Don’t you have video games to play?” My voice is dripping with contempt. If he’s not going to back me up, then he can get the fuck out of here.

  He leans back in his chair, balancing it precariously until the front legs are off of the tattered linoleum. “Nah, this is way better than Madden. Watching Mr. Perfect get his ass handed to him is more entertaining than anything I could be doing.”

  A hand whips out lightning fast and cracks the back of Garrett’s head. Shocked, he slumps forward until all four legs of the chair clatter back to the floor.

  “Ma! What’d you do that for?” Garrett’s blue eyes are wide as he rubs the spot where she got him.

  “Don’ curse in front ev me, Garrett!” My mom narrows her eyes at my brother, giving him a taste of the cold hostility I’ve been served since I walked in the door and told them about the Abercrombie contract.

  “Sorry!” he cries out. “Geez, I was just sitting here.”

  “Well go sit somewhere else, Garrett. We’re talkin’ some sense into yer brother.” My dad doesn’t have to tell Garrett twice. He jumps up from the table and disappears to his room.

  I flex my hands under the table, gripping my knees so I won’t be tempted to make a fist.

  “I don’t understand,” I say to them. “All I want to do is earn enough money to help out so you can retire someday. Maybe fix up the house or move to a nicer one. This is the fastest way to do that.” Actually, all I really want is for them to be proud of me. I thought giving them a lot of money might actually work since nothing else I’ve ever done has.

  “Son, do yer think we got where we are by takin’ the fast way?” my dad asks. “We came from Ireland with nothin’. Worked night and day to make a life here. To raise yer kids right. Honorably. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with startin’ from the bottom.”

  So now he’s insinuating I haven’t worked hard.

  “I didn’t say there was, Dad.” I grit my teeth together, my words hissing out between them.

  Why am I bothering with this? They’re so old school. They’re never going to see things my way. I would have just gone to New York and lied about my job if I didn’t think someone they knew would see the ads and tell them about it.

  “Declan, I never thought I’d see the day I was disappointed in ya, lad. But thar’s a time for everythin’ I guess.”

  My heart feels as if someone is squeezing it in my chest. Disappointed. I’m a disappointment. As if my dad wasn’t always disappointed in something I did. He never said it, but I got the message loud and clear. If I got an A, why wasn’t it an A+? If I hit a triple in little league, he’d mutter that it should have been a home run. I chose to go to UPenn and I should have gone to Harvard. Nothing was or is ever going to be good enough for him.

  It pisses me off that every decision I made in life was to make my dad proud, to hear him say it. Not once, not one single fucking time has he ever done it. Why I still care is beyond me. I’m sick and fucking tired of caring.

  I stand up, my chair scraping loudly when I shove it back. “That’s bullshit. All I’ve ever done is work hard to prove myself to you. Straight A’s in school, a full scholarship to UPenn, bust my ass to get my degree in three years instead of four… all while working almost forty hours a week.”

  The anger builds inside, bubbling up from my gut and churning until it has to explode out of me. Twenty-one years of anger, about to spew out at once.

  “Now, I finally have a chance to make money, a lot of money, and you disapprove of it? Fuck that and fuck you!”

  The last thing I see is my parents’ shocked expressions before I turn on my heel and storm out the door.

  Chapter 9

  Allie – now

  “Okay Patty, I’ll talk to you later and we’ll finalize the details for the silent auction.”

  “Bye.”

  I hang up the phone, exhausted. Every year I tell myself I’m going to let the Grady’s handle the Fourth of July fundraiser without me, and every year I end up taking on way too much anyway. It’s my own fault, I love parties, I love Inpatient to Learn, and I love everyone who’s involved in the charity. It’s only natural for me to want to pitch in and help. Unfortunately, I never say no, which leads to massive amounts of stressing out.

  No sooner do I hang up my phone than it rings again. I’m about to let it go to voicemail, but decide to look at the display in case it’s Dex. He’s flying in from L.A. tonight, and I don’t want to miss his call.

  The number isn’t one I recognize. It’s not Dex.

  “Hello?”

  “Allie. How are you?”

  “Beth? I’m good. How did you get my number? Not that I’m mad or anything, but I’ve changed it at least three times since leaving school.” Each time because someone found out about Drew and kept calling me to get to him.

  “I have my ways,” she says deviously.

  I laugh at my old roommate. “Yeah, you’re about as devious as a kitten, Beth.”

  “Honestly, Allie? I stopped by your parents’ house and they gave it to me.”

  “You’re in town?” I haven’t seen Beth since my sophomore year of college. After I left B.C., we only spoke sporadically. Then I graduated and she graduated, my phone number changed and she moved out of state, and well… that’s pretty much it.

  “I am. I’m here for an event.”

  “An event? What kind of event?” I’m puzzled. My old roommate, who I haven’t spoken to in almost six years, is in town for an event and calling me.

  “Some charity thing, something about teachers and hospitals or something. You know me, I never was good at remembering stuff.”

  “You sneaky little bitch,” I say, laughing. “What are you doing right now?”

  “Sitting in my hotel room, staring at what could be the most hideous piece of art I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  She always knows what to say to make things less awkward. “Lunch?”

  “Of course. We have a ton to catch up on, and from what I understand, you won’t have a lot of free time a
t the ball.”

  “No, probably not. Where are you staying?”

  “The Copley Square Hotel.”

  “Ooohhh, we can go to the Met Back Bay!”

  “I love that place. One hour?” Beth asks.

  “One hour.”

  I’m so excited to see Beth again. I rush around the high-rise condo that Drew insisted on buying for me a few years back. He said he wouldn’t let me live anywhere without full time security and locked doors. As annoying and bossy as it was, I relented because I felt bad about not letting him help me after I left B.C. He never forgot how messed up I was, and I’m sure the guilt at not being able to do anything about it just about killed him.

  I decide to walk to the restaurant since my condo is only a few blocks away. Big mistake. It’s July in Boston, which means it’s hot and humid. By the time I’m seated across from Beth, I’m sweaty and sticky and more than ready for a cold drink.

  “You look so good!” I squeal, taking in my old roommate after a long hug.

  “You look tired, girl,” Beth replies, her grin wide enough to be seen on the other side of the Charles.

  “Yeah, I always take on too much for the fundraiser.” The waiter comes by and takes our drink order. I decide on sangria since I need something to help cool me off after walking in the blistering heat.

  “Not tired like that,” Beth says. “I saw the recent articles. It brought back a lot of memories and not good ones.” Her mouth twists into a frown, her chocolate brown eyes harsh and angry.

  It touches me how much she still cares about what happened back then, about what’s happening now.