Faking It

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Faking It Page 16

by Christina Ross


  “Are you sure?” he asked. “Because I’m not.”

  “I have to get ready for tonight. I don’t have time to wait.”

  “Then, sit tight,” he said. “I’m going to get out of the car, you’ll see me walk around the front of it, and then I’ll do my best to get you inside as fast as I can.”

  “OK,” I said.

  “Let’s do this shit.”

  When Austin opened the door to leave the car, the sudden roar of anticipation from the crowd stunned me to my core. People were literally screaming out my name. They were shouting it out loud. When Austin shut the door behind him, the noise might have ebbed, but I nevertheless heard him ask the crowd to step back and give him the room he needed to get me safely out of the car. Austin was such a foreboding presence that the crowd did move back a bit—but not by much. He fought his way through the hordes of people and finally came to my door. I held my breath as he swung it open.

  Outside, chaos reigned.

  It was as if I were a fucking Kardashian. Austin offered me his hand, which I gratefully took as I grabbed my handbag and swung it over my shoulder. Then I stepped out into staccato rhythms of light that were so bright that they literally blinded me despite the sunglasses I wore.

  People started to hurl questions at me—from the paps and from my alleged fans.

  “Sienna, are you planning to marry Jackson Cruise?”

  “Sienna, can I get a selfie with you?”

  “Sienna, you are fucking awesome!”

  “Sienna, please turn to your left!”

  “Has Jackson proposed to you, Sienna?”

  “Sienna, please—just one selfie! It would blow up my Instagram! Please! You don’t know what that would mean to me!”

  Inch by inch, I moved forward through the hurricane of noise and light as I kept my head down and fought to keep a smile on my face. My heart hammered against my chest. I’d been in situations like this before with Jackson, but never once on my own—and it felt different. It felt dangerous. It felt threatening.

  What the hell has happened to my life?

  “Step back!” Austin warned them. “You’re too close—you know that you legally need to give her room.”

  “Sienna, I saw you at Sephora!”

  “Sienna, what’s it like to sleep with Jackson Cruise? Is it everything I dream it is? Tell me it’s better!”

  “Sienna, how did you and Jackson meet?”

  “Sienna, please—this way for the camera!”

  “Who the hell is Sienna Jones?” I heard one man ask.

  I wanted to laugh out loud at that, but then somebody bumped into me so hard that it almost made me lose my footing. I was wearing four-inch heels, for God’s sake. If it weren’t for Austin’s strong grip, I would have gone down. But together, we strengthened our grip, and as we did—despite the circus that was unfolding around us—I felt the same bond we’d shared when we’d first made love. Right now, I felt not only how protective he was of me—but that he’d literally do anything for me.

  “I’m sorry, Sienna! That was an accident! Someone pushed me—I didn’t mean to bump into you!”

  I held up my free hand to signal that all was fine.

  Until it wasn’t fine. At that moment, somebody rushed up behind me and ran his hands up my torso until they grasped my breasts and squeezed them hard. Startled, I whirled around to see who it was, and when I did, not only did I see the young man laughing as he backed away from me, his cell phone lifted high to film the moment—but in the process, my hand slipped free of Austin’s.

  “What’s wrong?” Austin asked.

  “That man just groped me!” I said.

  “Which man?”

  “That one,” I said, pointing a finger at him. “The one who’s laughing. He just grabbed my breasts—and hard.”

  “We’ve got it on tape, Sienna!” one of the paps called out. To score points, the paps always leaped to a celebrity’s defense, because they knew that if they did, whatever star they were trying to help out might remember them later—and allow them more access and less resistance in the future. “That was an assault. We’ll get the video to you. Give it to the police so they can arrest him.”

  “Send me that tape,” Austin said to the man who’d offered it. And then he turned to the man who’d groped me. “You’re lucky I can’t leave her alone, you sorry motherfucker,” he said to him. “Because if I could, I’d beat your ass.”

  “Fuck you,” the guy said. But when he said it, the crowd turned against him. People started to call him out. Others closed in on him. I saw one muscular man in his thirties walk over to him, slap the phone out of his hands, and stomp on it—crushing it—before taking the man by the throat and punching him so hard in the face that he collapsed to the ground.

  At the first sight of blood, I felt myself go pale, horrified that this was even happening. I turned to Austin and reached for his hand again as the situation became unhinged. Before this exploded into something neither of us wanted to see, I begged him to get me inside.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  With the crowd distracted, he was able to pull me forward through the thundering sound of clicking cameras as the paparazzi moved in fast to get in front of us and block our entrance to the building. In earnest, they went for it and got their unexpected money shot—my horrified, terrified, deeply disturbed expression.

  “Get out of the way now, or I’ll move you myself,” Austin said to them.

  When they parted, their cameras still flashing and snapping, we reached the door. Austin swung it open with force and finally got me inside. As the door shut behind us, I heard people screaming my name in ways I now understood were dangerous, threatening, and terrifying. I’d just been sexually assaulted. All of it had been captured by the paps, and they would spread my assault as far and as wide as they could.

  What the hell is next for me? I wondered as my body began to shake. Austin wrapped his arm around me and started to press me forward. Because that was just the tipping point. What happens from here? How bad will things become for me? I’ve still got seven more months of this! What the hell have I signed up for?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Are you all right?” Austin asked.

  He’d led us away from the glass door so the paparazzi couldn’t continue to photograph us. We were standing around the corner in the stairwell that led to my third-story walk-up.

  “He reached around me and grabbed my breasts,” I said. “Who in their right fucking mind does something like that?”

  “I wish I could have taken him out for you, Sienna, but in that situation, there’s no way I could have left your side.”

  “No, you did the right thing—I would have been lost if you’d gone after him. Besides, he got what was coming—whoever that man was took him down.”

  “From what I saw, that son of a bitch got a busted nose.”

  “Now we just need to bust his ass for what he did to me.”

  “The police will be involved—trust me on that. If they aren’t already. Because who knows what’s happening outside right now. That crowd turned on him for a reason. For all we know, they might be detaining him until the police arrive. You and I both know that someone called 911.”

  It was too much to absorb. Standing there in front of Austin, I felt shaken, sexually assaulted, and frightened by the thought of how the press would play this when it hit the entertainment shows and online sites sooner rather than later.

  What had just happened to me was the kind of thing that went viral, which meant that interest in me would only grow. Not that I wanted any part of that right now. If ever.

  “We should get you inside your apartment.”

  “But what about your car?” I said. “It’s double-parked. They’ll tow it.”

  “Let them,” he said. “It’s a car. I’ll get it later. Besides, my business owns several limousines. And I’m not leaving you alone right now.”

  In truth, I didn’t want to be alone, regardless
of the potential ramifications of being alone with Austin. I just nodded at him, and we took the stairs to my apartment. When we stepped inside, it was sweltering.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I should have left the air-conditioning running, but I try my best to keep my electric bill as low as possible.”

  “It’s not a problem,” he said.

  He reached for my hand and led me into my living room, where the white roses he’d sent me were standing tall and bright in a vase on the coffee table. I’d kept them—and now he knew for a fact that I had. Being the gentleman he was, he didn’t say a word about them. Instead, he asked if I’d like to sit on the sofa.

  “I would,” I said.

  “Then, sit,” he said. “You need to relax.”

  When I tossed my handbag onto the chair across from me and sat down, I watched Austin walk over to the window and turn on my air-conditioning unit. The living room was so small that it would cool off quickly enough, for which I was grateful, because it was hellish in there. When Austin stepped in front of me, his concern for my well-being was etched across his handsome face.

  “Can I get you a glass of water?” he asked.

  “You can get me something that looks like water.”

  He smiled when I said that.

  “Are you talking about a martini?”

  “Are you serious? After that? That’s absolutely what I’m talking about. There’s vodka in the freezer. And there’s vermouth—”

  “I know my way around a kitchen,” he said. “I’ll find what I need. You just sit tight. Give me a second, and I’ll be back in a flash.”

  “I hope you’ll join me,” I said as he walked into the kitchen. “You probably could use a drink yourself.”

  “I shouldn’t, because I’m working—but to hell with it. I’m joining you.”

  “One martini won’t kill you.”

  “One martini won’t.”

  After he’d made our drinks and returned to the living room, he handed me mine and then asked me where I’d like him to sit.

  “You can sit next to me,” I said.

  That seemed to surprise him.

  “Are you sure?”

  Right now, I felt so violated after what had happened that I needed to be close to someone. And Austin was it.

  “I’m sure.”

  He sat next to me, and we each sipped our drinks. For a moment, we lapsed into silence as we tried to process the last twenty minutes.

  For weeks, Harper and Mimi had stoked the flames with the paparazzi, and having my photo blasted everywhere with Jackson had finally caught up with me. Was today an anomaly? Or was this only the beginning? I had to believe it was the latter. What I also knew is that if my life were going to turn into this kind of shit show, I needed more security around me. And later, when the time was right, I planned to ask for it. Because as good as Austin was, today he’d had to struggle to keep me safe. He’d become as overwhelmed as I was. If he were going to protect me going forward, he would have to bring on other members of his team to do so.

  Deal with it later, I thought. Austin just did his very best for me, and I don’t want him to feel that he didn’t. Later today, I’ll talk to Harper alone, and I’ll tell her exactly how hard he tried to protect me. But she also needs to know that in the environment she and Mimi have created for me, I needed more security. No one should expect Austin to handle what he just endured on his own.

  I turned to him.

  “Austin, I want to thank you for getting me through that,” I said. “You advised me to wait for your staff to arrive so they could assist us, but I was in such a rush to get ready for tonight that I was naive. I should have listened to you. I’m beyond sorry that I didn’t. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “Why are you sorry?” he asked. “Sienna, you had no control over what just happened. Going into your contract with Jackson, I bet you had no idea that agreeing to be his fake girlfriend would ever blow up into anything like this.”

  “Harper warned me as best she could, but to be completely honest with you, I don’t think I really heard her. I’ve been trying so hard for so long to make it in this industry that I think I just went blindly into the contract Mimi and Jackson offered me because I knew the attention would help my career and that the kind of money they were offering me would benefit me forever. What I don’t understand is why I don’t hear about these sorts of things happening to the world’s biggest stars. Like Julia Roberts. Or Meryl Streep. Or Oprah, for God’s sake?”

  “That’s easy to answer,” he said. “It’s because they don’t have agents aggressively tipping off the paps to their every move. That’s the reason this happened to you today. Harper and Mimi are giving the paparazzi free and total access to you and Jackson. The other actors you mentioned have already made it. They want to fly under the radar, and for the most part, they can do so—unless they’re attending an event or a movie premiere.”

  “When my contract is over, what does my life look like then?”

  “The life you once lived is officially gone, but you already know that. You’re a celebrity now. You’re new and fresh on the scene, and people are excited by what they see. At the end of your contract, you’re set to shoot three major films in a row with three A-list directors. If even one of those films becomes a hit, expect your star to rise. But as long as Harper isn’t feeding you to the paps—like the Kardashians are, for instance, who actually want this kind of craziness in their lives—things should settle down for you. When the paps aren’t aware of where you’re going to be every day, the feeding frenzy should end. And because of that, you’ll live a more tolerable life, I think.”

  “May it be,” I said.

  “It’ll get better, Sienna.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Once your contract is over and your financial situation is taken care of, I know it will. And I’ll be there for you when it is, because I get it. I’ve had time to think about this. The kind of money you’re being offered is life changing, so I agree with you—you need to finish your contract without me interfering with any of it. But I’ll say this again, Sienna—I’m not giving up on us. I will wait for you, whether you want me to or not.”

  So much conviction was in his voice when he said that that for the first time, I believed him. First the flowers, then the takeout food from the gods, then the song by Mariah Carey—and then his aggression when it came to protecting me today. Was I wrong about Austin’s intentions? Was he really willing to wait seven months for me? I was beginning to believe that he might be—that he was serious—and that caught me off guard.

  “Thanks for talking me down,” I said. “And for having my back today.”

  “I’ll always have your back, Sienna.”

  “Austin, I don’t mean to doubt you, but you’ve only known me for a month, and yet you sound so certain about us. I’m trying to understand how that can be, but I can’t.”

  “It’s because I’m the kind of guy who knows what he wants. Because what I feel for you, Sienna, is real. It’s this.”

  He leaned forward and kissed me when he said that, and when he did, my body responded with shivers of anticipation at the sudden touch of his lips pressed against mine. When he realized I wasn’t going to pull away from him, he leaned in closer and claimed my mouth with a hunger that consumed me to my core. There was longing in his kiss. And need. And in that need was something more, something deeper, something profound. Gently, he took my drink out of my hand and he put both our glasses down on the coffee table. When he kissed me again, as his tongue swept into my mouth and tasted me, it was as if he had become untethered.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” I said.

  “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want this.”

  I couldn’t, and so I didn’t.

  As the air conditioner tried to cool off the room, we heated it up. As dangerous as this moment felt to me, it also felt dangerously right. When I didn’t answer him, Austin took me into his arms, and we shared the beginnings of
a searing kiss—just as my cell rang.

  “Don’t answer it,” he said, his breath hot against me. “They’ll leave a message. Don’t stop this now.”

  “But it might be Harper,” I said, pulling away from him. “Word might have already gotten out, and she might be calling in to check on me because she’s concerned about me. I have to answer it.”

  “Fuck…” he said.

  “I need to.”

  “No, you’re right,” he said in disappointment as he pulled away from me and straightened on the couch. I did the same as I reached for my handbag and removed my cell from it. Sure enough, it was Harper. I showed Austin the screen and in frustration, he just nodded.

  I answered the call.

  “Harper,” I said.

  “I’ve just seen the news,” she said with concern in her voice. “What I need to know first is whether you are all right.”

  “I’m OK.”

  “Where is Austin?”

  “He’s sitting with me now. He’s been trying his best to calm me down, which is no easy task. He deserves a raise after what I’ve put him through today.”

  “You sound out of breath.”

  I am. And as much as I’d like to tell you why, Harper, I can’t. You’d have my ass if you knew the real reason I’m out of breath.

  “I’m upset,” I said, which was far from an outright lie, because I was upset by what had happened. “It was terrible, Harper. That son of a bitch grabbed me by my breasts in front of hundreds of people.”

  “I know he did. And I’m sorry, Sienna. I’ve seen the photos.”

  “Where have you seen them?”

  “At this point, I’m afraid they’re everywhere. Naturally TMZ was the first to post them, because when aren’t they the first to break this sort of news? Everyone else just followed suit.”

  I knew this was going to break quickly, but not this quickly.

  She sighed into the phone. “Listen to me now, because I need you to understand that there’s actually a silver lining when it comes to these sorts of unwanted situations.”

  “There’s a silver lining when it comes to being sexually assaulted in public?” I asked incredulously.

 

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