I dread sleep tonight. I know my anxiety level is somewhere around DEFCON 1, the nightmares are inevitable. I drag myself into the closet and change into a tank top and sleep shorts and flop into bed.
****
“Hello class, we have a new student starting today. Miss Sydney Tannen just moved here from California, I hope everyone will welcome her kindly.” The older woman with the uptight hairstyle and glasses on a chain holds onto my arms with her cold, bony hands. “Sydney, just take the empty chair in the back row, dear.” She looks down at me and smiles a little too wide. I notice a big glob of lipstick on her front tooth and cringe.
I stare at my shoes and try to ignore the whispers as I make my way down the aisle of desks. I’m used to being the “cool” girl, the one everyone wanted to know. I have no idea how to bear the burden of being the target of gossip and stares and pity. Going from popular to pariah overnight isn’t easy when you were twelve. I’m not sure I will survive this hell.
When I reach the empty seat in the back row, I throw my new designer bag onto the desk and slump down into the chair, determined to become invisible. I thought I was succeeding in disappearing until I’m pelted by a balled up piece of paper a few minutes later. I look up and see the girl next to me grinning widely, her teeth swallowed up by huge metal braces. I choke back a laugh, I don’t want to be rude, and unfold the note.
Don’t worry about what all of these stuck up assholes say. I’m cool. I’ll be your friend. Leah Eliza Quinn-Slade
I crumple the note back up and stuff it into my bag. “Thanks,” I mouth at Leah. Apparently, perky little blonde New Yorkers with braces have no problem hanging out with the daughter of L.A. tabloid super-stars. My crappy week got a tiny bit better. But only just.
“Hey Tannen! I heard your dad banged everyone in L.A.!”
“Yeah Sydney, I saw your dad’s movie! You know, the secret one.”
“Sydney, if your mom is lonely, bring her over to my house!”
The first three months of school are the worst. Most days consist of kids yelling stupid crap and me removing tabloid photos that have been taped all over my locker every single day. Leah tries to get there first and take them down, but she can’t protect me from everything.
Grainy pictures of my dad and her. Photos of my mom and dad from their wedding, my parents at the Oscars, every single picture of them happy or angry over the last fifteen years regurgitated for the world to see.
Photos of my dad punching the paparazzi that have hounded him since my mom left. Pictures of her being followed everywhere, like she’s someone special. And my personal favorite, pictures of me and parents from when everything was still good. My life, my broken family, nothing but entertainment for the world. It feels like someone is pulling my heart out of my chest as I rip them off of my locker and stuff them in the garbage.
****
The shrill ring of my iPhone brings me out of my fitful sleep. “Where the hell is my phone?” I mutter as I feel around my nightstand. Unable to find it, I sit up and look around spotting it on my bed where I threw it last night.
Shit, I never realized how irritating my ring tone is.
Grabbing it, I swipe it on just to shut it up.
“Sydney! I’m on my way to your place. I’ll be there in five with coffee and croissants.”
Leah hangs up on me before I can even respond. Crap! What time is it? I peer down at the phone that I’m clutching.
9:55am
Falling back on my pillows, I groan. She’s going to want to know everything about Drew. What should I tell her? That I like him? Do I like him? Obviously, the answer is yes. How much will I tell him? Leah will think I should just spill my guts on the first date, like a test to see if he can handle it. I’m leaning toward less is more and I’ll address my personal life after we see if we’re compatible. The loud buzzer at my door means I’m out of time. Hurricane Leah just made landfall.
“Hey Leah.” I move to let her breeze past me into my loft.
“Did you just get up? My God! You never sleep this late Syd. Come, I brought the Nectar of the Gods” She holds up a huge cup of coffee as she makes her way to my kitchen.
I trail behind her. I may be tired and not in the mood for girl talk, but I’m not going to say no to the best cup of coffee in the city. “Here, I brought croissants too. Today is lemon crème.” She pulls two pastries from out of a brown bag and places them on plates that she retrieves from my cabinet.
“Let’s go sit on the couch where it’s more comfortable,” she says, already heading down the hall. I follow along, clutching my beloved Kona in one hand and a lemon crème croissant in the other.
“Mmmmm. I may feel human in a few minutes. Thanks.” I hold the hot cup of coffee in both hands as I sip from it gratefully. We nibble our croissants in silence and drink our coffees. Leah waits a few minutes for the caffeine to take effect before starting the third degree.
Maybe she won’t ask about Drew, pffftth, yeah right, and maybe I’ll give up coffee tomorrow!
“So. The cutie from the café, did he walk you home?”
Here we go.
“Drew, and yes, he did.” I take a huge bite of lemon croissant just to annoy Leah when my mouth is too full to elaborate.
“Drew. Okay, Drew then,” she says sarcastically. “And…is he the same Drew who rescued you the other day?” She stares at me expectantly, bouncing on the couch as if she were on a pogo stick.
“Yes, he is. I invited him up and we ordered sushi. And please stop bouncing, if you make me spill my coffee I may never forgive you.” I give her the evil eye and place a hand on her shoulder to stop the dizzying movement.
“And …? Did you, you know?” Her grin is going to split her face in two.
“Leah! You called me last night at eleven and I was doing yoga. I would hope that if I got lucky, it would have lasted longer than that.” I giggle at the thought. “But, we are going out again tonight.”
Leah’s eyes practically pop out of her head. “Sydney, it wasn’t eleven, it was eleven-thirty, and you are going on a second date. You. Dating. Drew from the gym. Your white knight. I can’t believe it. Are you sure about this?”
“I think I really like him.” I nervously pull my croissant apart.
“Like him enough to tell him?”
“Not yet. I’m not ready for that yet. But I do have a confession.” I see Leah look at me expectantly. “I Googled my dad the other day.”
Why the hell am I telling her this? Am I on Dr. Phil or something?
“Holy shit Syd! That’s huge!” She grabs my shoulders and goes in for a hug.
“Wait! Stop!” I hold up my palm. “I didn’t read any articles or click any of the links. I was too scared. All I did was look at a few photos and read some of the headlines.” My heart is beating out of my chest. I remove Leah’s hands from my arms and take another sip of coffee. Inhaling deeply, I steel myself to continue. “There was one article that terrified me. Did you watch my dad on Barbara Walters last month?”
Leah’s mouth twists into a scowl and she pauses a moment before answering me. “No. I didn’t watch it, Syd. But I do know some of what it was about.” Her eyes shine with pity.
I throw my hand up again. “Don’t! I’m getting there, but I don’t think I want to know anything yet.” I really don’t want to know.
“Okay, but I’ll just say it was kind of sweet. When you finally do check out your dad, watch that interview first.” She pops the last bit of her croissant in her mouth and relaxes into the cushions, casually scanning the room. “Holy fuck Sydney!” Leah is pointing at something and screaming, coiling back in fear.
“What! What! Is it a rat? Do I have a rat in my house?” I jump up onto the couch and scan the room for the offensive creature.
Leah shoots up, runs over to my fireplace and snatches up the fire tongs. She whips around and with a pained expression, walks back over to the coffee table and uses the tongs to pick something up. “What on God’s green ea
rth is this?”
Hanging from the end of my fire tongs is Drew’s nasty old baseball hat.
Chapter 7
On the verge of hyperventilating in my bathroom, I’m attempting to take deep breaths to calm myself down before my second date with Drew. “You can do this” I keep repeating over and over again.
I move back and do a final assessment in front of the mirror. I have to admit, I look hot. Leah had convinced me to spend the day with her at the spa to relax. We had every service you could think of. I was buffed, waxed, plucked and massaged. My hair is hanging in perfect auburn waves down my back. My skin is dewy and clear. The aesthetician even managed to get rid of my ever present under-eye circles.
Drew had said to dress up, so I put on my short black Alexandre Vauthier. I love the loose long-sleeve top and the tight miniskirt. I slide my feet into my beloved grommet-studded Manolos. A handful of thin gold bangles and my small gold hoop earrings and I’m ready.
I still have a few minutes to spare so I walk over to my bedroom window and watch the busy city to gather my wits. I seriously contemplate having a few shots of Patrón when the buzzing of my phone causes me to nearly fall over in my stilettos. I shout out a curse and grab the phone to read the text.
Drew
I asked Drew to text me when he got here so he wouldn’t have to come upstairs. He protested, saying it wasn’t gentlemanly to not come to my door but I won. I convinced myself that it would feel too much like a proper date if he came up to get me, and I was afraid that I would want to shove him down on my bed and rip his clothes off if he came inside my loft. He’s just too tempting.
I fetch my coat and keys, swallow down my insecurities, and head out to enjoy my night.
As I cross the large foyer I spot the sleek black car waiting outside. Approaching the car, the driver’s side opens, and Bruce comes around to open the door for me. “Thank you so much.” I give him a small smile. “For your help the other day that is.”
“My pleasure Sydney.” He guides me to the car and helps me to get inside. As I slide across the seat, I’m hit with the enticing smell that is Drew. Body wash scented like grapefruit mixed with the purely masculine fragrance of his body, it saturates every surface of the car. I inhale deeply and turn to see him sitting next to me with a huge grin on his face.
“Sydney, you look stunning”. His greedy eyes look me up and down as he takes my face in his hands and presses a soft kiss on my lips.
I can feel the hot blush creeping up my neck under his dark gaze. “Drew, you clean up rather well yourself.”
Holy shit he is even hotter than I remember!
His thick brown hair is haphazardly styled so that the pieces stick up randomly on his head. His face is clean shaven for the first time since I met him, so I can see his dimple clearly. I think about what it would be like to lick it, and know that I must be turning a deep crimson again. He is wearing a beautifully cut dark gray suit and black shirt with a black tie. I’m having a hard time reconciling this sleek, beautiful man with the unshaven, nasty hat wearing guy from yesterday.
“Shoot. I forgot. You left your hat at my place.”
I see his mouth quirk up at the corner, a habit I’m starting to like. “My hat. Yes, I’ll need to get that back. It’s sort of my lucky charm.” He reaches out and casually puts his hand on my knee and my nipples instantly tighten from his touch. Shit, if he can get me this turned on just from a casual kiss and a hand on the knee, I’ll never make it through dinner without incinerating.
I’m able to choke out a sentence, even with his overwhelming presence and my racing hormones. “Lucky charm? Why is it lucky?” I look at his hand on my knee, then back up into his brilliant green eyes.
“I was wearing it when I bumped into you at the coffee shop after I was convinced I’d never see you again.” He says it so simply, and so honestly, that I stop breathing for a minute. Surely this fascinating man isn’t as taken with me as I am with him. I swallow and hold his gaze.
“Sydney, we’re here.” He breaks eye contact with me and takes my hand to help me out of the car. I step onto the pavement and find myself pressed against him. Time seems to stop as I feel the warmth from his body seep into mine. His eyes fall to my mouth and his lashes drop in a hooded stare. “We’d better go in, it’s cold out here,” he whispers as his thumb brushes across my lips.
“I hadn’t noticed,” I murmur. The cold cruelly rushes against me when he turns to walk into the building. He takes my hand just like he did the other day, and I look around as we walk. We’re in a small parking lot surrounded by tall buildings. It’s well-lit, but secluded, as if hiding from the prying eyes of Manhattan. Sort of like me.
“What is this place?”
“This is Sunset House, on 76th street. We’re using the back entrance. I’ve reserved us a private dining room.”
Private dining room?
He continues toward a non-descript red door located in the middle of a brick building.
“Oh. Why a private dining room?”
He opens the door and speaks softly as I enter, his velvety voice sending a rush of blood to my sex. “So I can spend time with only you, of course.”
Of course. I swallow down my nerves as he reaches for my hand again. Jesus, I can hardly be near him without turning into a quivering mess. Drew holds my gaze, his eyes unwavering as he continues, “Plus, you’re too sexy for your own good. I don’t like to share, Sydney. Every man in the restaurant would be watching you.”
Who would have thought that Neanderthal could be such a turn on?
Before I can say anything, a young man in tailored black dress pants, shirt and tie, welcomes us in a small foyer. “Mr. Forrester, Miss Allen, welcome to Sunset House. I’m Chase and I’ll take care of you tonight. We have your room ready, please follow me.” We go up a flight of stairs to a short hallway with three doors, all located on the same side of the hall. Chase opens the first door and ushers us through.
Wow! I have seen some things in my life. I have money, I have famous parents, I’ve been to many upscale restaurants in many different countries, but I have never seen anything like the private dining room at the Sunset House.
The space isn’t small but it somehow feels cozy and intimate. It’s an inviting mix of steel and cable and warm woods, most likely African Zebrawood, I think, noting the bold striations on the buffet by the door. A table for eight, but set for two sits in the middle of the room, low light emanating from industrial-style pendants hanging overhead.
But what makes the room so special is that the far wall is made entirely of glass. Looking out, you can see the entire restaurant below. From the busy kitchen in the center of the room to the tables surrounding it, everything is visible. The interior designer in me is impressed. The girl on a second date is a little overwhelmed. I had no idea that Drew had money like this. And now I’m nervous that people will be staring at us from the main dining room, like animals in a cage.
“Don’t worry,” Drew whispers in my ear, his hot breath sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “The glass is one way. No one can see into the private rooms from the main restaurant.” I’m about to ask Drew how he knew what I was thinking when Chase interrupts to take our coats, hanging them in a small closet near the door.
Drew pulls out a chair for me and once I’m settled, he takes the seat next to me. “I hope you like champagne, I ordered some for us.” No sooner has he finished his sentence than Chase is back and filling two flutes for us, leaving the bottle behind in a bucket of ice. He exits just as quickly, giving us the privacy that the room promises.
“So, I’m impressed, Mr. Forrester.” I finger my glass of champagne and look at Drew amusingly. “I guess I should find it odd that the host knew your last name and I didn’t and we’re on a date. Or should I be more creeped out that you know mine?”
The corner of his mouth twitches in that sexy way. “Well Miss Allen, if you must kno
w, your doorman used your name last night. That’s how I know it. I promise I didn’t go through your mail to find out. And you never asked for my last name, so now you know it. There’s no secret motive behind my actions, I just enjoy spending time with you and want to get to know you better.” Thankfully, Drew looks amused, so I didn’t make him angry with my accusation that he might be a stalker.
“A toast then, Mr. Forrester?” I hold my flute a little higher and arch an eyebrow.
“To getting to know each other better.” His darkening eyes meet mine and I lick my lips in anticipation.
“Yes. I’ll toast that.” As long as you don’t ask questions about my parents.
The ride back to my loft is filled with tense, thrumming desire. Dinner had been perfect. We enjoyed the food immensely. The chef even came up to our room to explain his farm to table menu and how he only uses local produce. Drew became very animated speaking with the chef about organic food, his New England accent Boston, I’m guessing? getting more pronounced the more excited he got. We ate and drank while we watched the other diners like voyeurs, spying from our crow’s nest as servers scurried around the room.
Small touches between us during dinner started a slow burn between my thighs that is now a raging fire. It’s bad enough that his warm, rough hand is drawing slow circles on the inside of my leg. It’s all I can do to stay in my own seat and not jump on Drew’s lap and tear the clothes off of his mouthwatering body in the back of the car.
God, he’s turning me into a clothes-ripping crazy person!
We pull up to my building and he seizes my hand so I can’t get out. His other hand moves from my leg to my face, brushing across my cheek. My tongue darts out to lick my suddenly parched lips and my gaze falls to his perfect mouth. “Drew,” I pant.
Relatively Famous (Famous Series) Page 6