In the end, Will sang the song without complaining, and when his eyes met Sarah’s during the second verse, she could feel his love for her pouring out of him. He tossed the hair out of his eyes as he strummed, and his dimple appeared on his cheek. He kept his eyes locked on her, and all she wanted was for her family to leave so she could have him all to herself. When he had finished the song, he leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“I do know other songs, but unfortunately, my contract forbids me from singing in public more than once every six months,” he said with a chuckle, and everyone laughed.
Just then, Ronnie and Nate’s eighteen-month-old daughter climbed onto his lap. She seemed fascinated by Will. She had been watching him intently while he sang and made her move on him as soon as he finished. He showed her how to strum the guitar while he fingered the guitar’s neck. Sarah’s heart melted to see how sweet he was with her, so patient and gentle. Everyone commented on it.
Lara observed her son with a smile. “He’s always been irresistible to kids and dogs—oh, and women. It’s like he has this inert magnetism that draws them in. But he doesn’t see it.”
“Wow, he’s a keeper,” remarked Ronnie.
“Yeah, I know,” Sarah confessed with a smile.
On Monday morning, Sarah argued with her parents—again. It was more of the same discussion from Christmas dinner, and Will tried to stay out of the conversation as much as he could. Sarah’s parents made that virtually impossible, though. He ended up telling them he would reimburse them for all of Sarah’s education costs when it was brought up again, but it just escalated the argument. After that, Will said very little, because he did not want to say anything he would regret. He knew from his parents’ experiences that, in the world of in-laws, anything he said would be held against him, and anything Sarah said would be forgiven, so he did his best to stay quiet.
He listened while her parents reminded her that half of all marriages end in divorce and that she needed to take care of herself first. They rattled off statistics, which they had found on the Internet, about the divorce rate in Hollywood. They told her that she needed to find her own way before she could commit to someone else, because the real world did not have fairy-tale endings.
In the end, Sarah said, “This is me finding my own way. I’m an adult, and it’s my decision,” and it was left at that.
Later that morning, Sarah and her mother went for a follow-up visit to see Sarah’s doctor. They planned to go out to lunch after the appointment and then shopping, if Sarah was feeling up to it. Will wanted Sarah to have a chance to act like a normal person before his crazy world overtook her life, so he stayed back at the house to work out. He hoped to get back on track with his training before he returned to filming.
When Sarah got back to the house after lunch and a couple of other stops, she filled in Will on what the doctor had said. Will was surprised to hear that she shouldn’t do any lifting or have any physical activity for at least another three weeks, but being the talented actor that he was, he didn’t let his disappointment invade his face.
She showed him her incisions, lifting her sweater and tank top as she spoke. “I’ll never be able to wear a bikini again, but at least those ugly blue stitches are gone, even the ones on my scalp. The nurse took them out.”
“I don’t think your scars are going to be that bad. No one will know they’re there but you, so don’t give up your bikini,” he said obstinately. He had fond memories of her in her bikini and couldn’t imagine never seeing her wear one ever again. Besides, he knew that if the scars really bothered her, a plastic surgeon could probably get rid of them completely.
“Thanks, Will,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. “You always know what to say.”
Later that afternoon, Will got a call from his publicist. He had been keeping in close touch with her during the hospital stay. He wanted her to know what was going on so she could keep the rumors to a minimum.
“Hey, Jon, how’s Sarah?” Remi greeted.
“Better, thanks. So what’s up?”
“I have a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Like what?”
“There are some crazy rumors out there right now. I was just wondering if there is anything you need to tell me?” she inquired.
“Crazier than usual? I can’t imagine that.”
“Not crazier—more believable, actually. Stop messing with me, Jon. You were spotted buying a hundred crystal candles on the twenty-fourth. What was that about?”
“Yeah, about that, I was just going to call you.” He looked over at Sarah and smiled when they locked eyes. “You must have supersonic radar, Remi.”
“I’ve been expecting your call ever since our last conversation,” she admitted.
“You know, I just got the ring on her finger. We’ve barely told our parents. You’re the first to know. I wouldn’t leave you out of the loop. I haven’t even told Isaac. We’re still figuring everything out, so I’m not ready to go public with it yet. Besides, I’m still under contract with The Demigod promotion.”
“I wouldn’t worry about the studio so much. You know how dramatic Isaac can be. I had lunch with Darin Schwartz last week, and he didn’t seem to have any concerns about your personal life as long as you’re not doing something scandalous. They’re not going to create problems with their biggest star over something that’s just going to bring positive attention to the film.”
“Well, that’s good news,” Will noted. “You know, I think Isaac wants me to stay single so he can keep finding me man-whore and superhero parts. I want to try a more serious role next.”
“Can I be there when you tell him? I like to see him squirm,” Remi confessed in a conniving voice.
“Sure. We can do a conference call. I don’t want to tell him in person,” he said with a chuckle. “I tried to talk to him about it last week and he acted like he would have me committed to a rehab center if it ever actually happened.”
“Getting married will definitely change your image, and that may affect the movies you’re offered. I’ve seen careers come to a halt when the actor gets hitched. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes!” he exclaimed. “We’ll just take it as it comes, I guess.”
“It should slow your fanatical fans down a bit—at least after the news blows over—but it might be a little hateful for a while. You may need extra security until the fans accept the idea of you having a personal life that doesn’t involve them. I still don’t think the public wants to see you with someone not in the business.”
“I’ll talk to Sam and beef up security.”
“I guess I need to congratulate you, you super-sexy, off-the-market man. When do I get to meet her?”
He chuckled. “I’ll let you know when we get back into town—a couple of days?”
“Set a date yet?”
“No, I want to ease her into the lion’s den slowly to give her a chance to back out.” He looked lovingly at Sarah.
Sarah squinted her eyes and yelled across the room. “I’m not backing out!”
“So you think she’ll back out?” Remi asked.
“Nah, she’s tough. She better not,” he admitted as he raised his eyebrows and looked over at Sarah again questioningly.
“Well, I can’t wait to meet the girl who can keep you in line. Oh, one more thing, Paris Borel from Celeblife has been trying to get ahold of you. Normally, I wouldn’t bug you with it, but I know you connect with her once in a while, and she was pretty persistent. She said you’d know what it was about,” Remi added.
“I’ve got her number. I’ll give her a call,” Will said. “So no press releases for now, right?”
“Your call, but award season starts in January. It’s going to come up on the red carpet.”
“Wait, I know I haven’t been nominated. I’m not scheduled to present, am I?” he questioned. “We’re still filming.”
“We can talk about it in a couple of days. Enjoy your time of
f, Jon, and keep that ring hidden. It will need its own coming-out party,” she said.
“We’ll keep the ring under wraps, but seriously, what have you got?”
“The big one—with the golden man.”
“I’m surprised they’re inviting me back, after what happened last year. Remember the prompter went out and I had to ad-lib?”
“What are you talking about? You were adorable. That’s why they want you back,” she countered. “You perform well under pressure.”
He feigned a cough, scoffing at her words. “So what am I promoting, anyway?”
“Besides yourself? Demigod Forbidden, of course. But I heard that Third Rung might get picked up at Cannes. You knew that, right?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I was actually hoping that one would never make it to the theaters. I filmed it four years ago. That whole year after Jack’s death was pretty dark. It seems like a lifetime ago.”
“I heard the film was good. Have you seen the final cut?” she asked.
“No.”
“Well, it has to be good to be considered at Cannes, and it’s never too late to sell a movie, especially with a big star like you attached,” boasted Remi.
“If it does get picked up, Sarah is definitely coming with me to the South of France.”
“So, do you think Sarah will be ready for the red carpet by the end of February?”
“Hell, I don’t know if I’ll be ready, but we’ll figure it out.”
He looked at Sarah, wondering how he was going to prepare her for the red carpet by February, and unsure whether he should put her through that torture at all. Most of all, he didn’t know how he was going to keep her safe. Once they announced their engagement, it would be utter chaos. He also didn’t know what Paris wanted, but whatever it was, he was sure it was not good and would complicate his life even more.
Later that same evening, Will made the dreaded call to Paris. He knew that this day would come. He had just been hoping that it wouldn’t be so soon.
“Paris, it’s Jonathan Williams. Remi said you’ve been trying to get ahold of me?” He held the phone away from his ear so he wouldn’t accidentally end the call.
“Good to hear from you, Jon. How was your Christmas?” Paris asked.
“Great. And yours?” he responded automatically.
“Fine—busy, though. So I’ve been hearing some engagement rumors, Jon. Any truth to them?”
“I’m not surprised. I’m always engaged to someone in the rags. Where did you hear about it this time?” he asked, not wanting to answer the question.
“Blogging fans, mostly. A couple of different fans spotted you at a posh jewelry store just before Christmas, and there have been all kinds of sightings of you in the Midwest with some girl named Sarah.”
“And you believe the bloggers? Wow, I didn’t realize you were so gullible,” he said, doing his best not to lie.
“You would be amazed at what you can find out from the bloggers. I went through some old blogs over the holidays and was flabbergasted at what they revealed.”
“Really? Like what?” he asked smoothly, without emotion.
“You met her on my website, Jon. I went through the old blog threads. Her name is Sarah—the same as the girl in the blog. I gave you her e-mail address, for God’s sakes.”
“What do you want from me, Paris?” Will said, clearly irritated.
“I want an interview.”
“You’re talking to me now. Why do you need an interview?” he asked.
“Well, I like to post the truth, and I want it from the source. I’ve got all those blog threads, but they’re dated, and my followers prefer current news. Although, I think they would be interested in your relationship’s beginnings,” Paris stated.
“You want our firstborn child too?” Will mumbled under his breath.
“You dirty dog, is she pregnant?”
“No, she is not pregnant!”
“Come on. I introduced you. You owe me, remember?”
“I’ll have to talk to Remi. She’ll have to put her seal of approval on it, and I have some conditions.” He had been contemplating this situation for a while now and knew what he needed to do.
“I’m intrigued. What conditions?”
“I need you to delete the old blog threads with Sarah’s name that you’re referring to.”
“So you admit it’s her?”
“No, but if you delete the threads, you can have an interview.”
“With both of you? I just want to see what kind of woman actually interests you, Jon.”
His heart sank, knowing he had to make this work with Paris and knowing, if he involved Sarah, there would be no going back. He paused for a few seconds, then said, “Hold on.”
He held his hand over the phone’s mouthpiece.
“Sarah, do you want to do an interview with me?” he asked as he flashed his big pale-blue eyes up at her from across the room.
Sarah was sitting on the couch writing in her journal. She shrugged her shoulders gently.
He took his hand off the mouthpiece. “All right. Only because we’re friends, Paris. But delete the threads first.”
“They’re so old no one even knows they’re there.”
“Someone might slip up someday and publish them, just by accident. I want them wiped. You completely get rid of them, and I will give you the best interview ever. And you can be our first interview. You can’t beat that.”
“OK, Jon. You know I’d do anything for you,” she declared.
“I’ll have Remi call you to set it up, and I’m sure she’ll have some paperwork for you too.” He knew Remi would make sure all the legal contracts needed to ensure the blog threads were erased were signed before allowing an interview.
“Talk to you again soon,” she said.
Will hung up the phone and glanced across the room at his fiancée. He twisted his face with concern. Did she really understand what she would be facing marrying him?
“It’s starting. So are you ready for this, beautiful?” he asked as he planted himself next to her on the couch.
She closed her journal, locked eyes with him, and said, “Bring it.”
“No, I mean, are you really ready for this?”
“I think so.” She looked at him skeptically.
“There is a ton of crap that we need to do before we announce the engagement.”
“Like what?” Sarah asked, wide-eyed.
“To begin, you need to make a list of the people in your life that you can trust—I mean, really trust—not to go to the press with tidbits of our personal life. I can guarantee that one of your friends or a relative will contact the tabloids to sell them personal information about you. They’ll make up stories about you and pass it off as inside information. You need to cut ties with anyone not on your most trusted list. Are you willing to do that?”
“You make it sound like I’m joining the Witness Protection Program,” she said, cocking her head.
“It seems like that sometimes. You won’t know who to trust. People will crawl out of the sewer and claim to be your best friend. Every unflattering picture of you growing up will resurface. The tabloids will contact your third grade teacher, your cousin Ronnie, your ex-boyfriends…” He trailed off, raising his eyebrows.
“Ronnie is on my list, but the rest sound awful.”
“The next thing you know, your aunt Zelda is selling our Christmas picture to the tabloids and she swears someone stole it from her.”
“I don’t have an aunt Zelda.”
“It’s just an example. The point is that you have to eliminate people you can’t trust from your life.”
“So what does it matter if Aunt Zelda sells our Christmas picture to the tabloids? How is that really going to hurt us?”
“What if it’s a picture of our newborn daughter that Zelda is selling?” He looked at her questioningly. “She gets ten thousand dollars, and our daughter’s picture is plastered all over the supermarket shelves.”
“Yeah, I want babies.” Will beamed back at her. “But do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I get it, but it’s not like we have to cut everyone out completely. We just have to be really careful when we’re around people not in our inner circle, right?”
“Sarah, you can’t trust anyone. Do you remember that little blonde nurse that helped us escape from the hospital?”
She nodded. “Yeah, she was great.”
“Yesterday, she tweeted that I was complaining about how you were dressed and that I planned to take you shopping to buy you better clothes. She said I couldn’t keep my hands off you. I don’t remember even holding your hand in front of her. It had to be her. No one else was near us when I was teasing you about that jacket.”
“Seriously? She seemed so nice. What a liar!” Sarah fumed. “That’s not what happened at all, and you’ve barely touched me since the accident.”
He wrinkled his nose at her last comment, but he continued. “You’re always on show. It’s really tedious and can get a bit lonely. Someone always wants something from you, and no matter what you give, it’s never enough. I could give them every stitch of clothing off my back, and they would still ask me to shave my head so they could have my hair.”
She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair with a pouty lip.
“You have to get off all those social network sites too. They’re not safe. They get hacked all the time.” He looked apologetically at her. He knew this would be hard for her. “It’s not going to be pleasant, Sarah. The tabloids will lie about you. As soon as we announce our engagement, they’ll say you’re pregnant. They’ll manipulate pictures to make it look like you have a baby bump, and strangers will come up to you, touching your belly, congratulating you on your pregnancy.” He playfully touched her stomach. “They’ll say you’re too skinny and too fat, all in the same week. I just want you to be prepared. They would be even more critical if you were in the business, but it will still be pretty bad. Are you ready to live in a fishbowl with the world watching everything you do?”
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