Plain Fame

by Sarah Price

  “I’ve come for Amanda,” he said slowly.

  “Alejandro!” he heard her call out from the darkness of the room.

  If he hadn’t been such a gentleman, he would have pushed past her father to go to her, take her in his arms, and console her. But he knew that there was a right way and a wrong way to approach the situation. “Elias, we both know she can’t stay here,” he said, reaching up to take off his sunglasses. He slid them into his shirt pocket. “I’ve dealt with these people for years. I know what they want, and the only way to get the frenzy to die down quickly is to let her come with me. As soon as they have what they want, they’ll lose interest and move on.”

  “She’ll be ruined!” Elias said.

  “I already am,” Amanda retorted, having joined the circle at the door. “If you send me to Ohio, Daed, they will only follow me. Then you will create problems for Anna and her new life. Would you have all of us ruined?”

  Lizzie laid her hand on her daughter’s arm. “That’s not fair.”

  “Isn’t it?” Amanda retorted, feeling a newfound courage. She had grown tremendously in the past few months, the exposure to the world having given her a strength she had never known was actually inside her. “What about what happened to Aaron? I was already ruined because of that!”

  Lizzie gasped and turned her face away.

  “Amanda!”

  She faced her daed and shook her head. “You know that his death weighs heavily on my soul. And I know that you blame me.”

  “That’s not true!”

  She fought back the tears. “I should have been the one harnessing the horse. I know that, Daed. You didn’t have to say it. Your silence during those first months was more than enough to know what you truly thought. It should have been me who was kicked, me who died. Not Aaron! Then you’d still have your son to help you in the fields and inherit the farm. The guilt has burdened me every day since he left . . . has ruined me just as much as this craziness with the camera people!”

  “I don’t blame you,” her daed said softly. But his eyes said differently. “You cannot use that as a reason to leave, Amanda.”

  “Yet I cannot stay here!”

  Alejandro cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Con permiso,” he said softly. “If Amanda stays here, they will continue to stalk her. If she comes with me, I promise to take care of her. No harm will come to her, and I will end this. Let the paparazzi have their pictures, their interviews. It is better to let them get it out of their system, no? But if you send her to another community, it is likely they will follow her.”

  “I cannot agree to this,” Elias said, his eyes sharp and piercing through Alejandro. Then he straightened his back and lifted his chin. “If you were to go, Amanda, you could never come back.”

  “They cannot shun me if I leave, Daed,” Amanda replied, her shoulders back and her chin lifted as she spoke with conviction. “But they can shun you if I stay, and I will not go back to Ohio. I will not ruin Anna’s chance at happiness nor yours.” She looked at Alejandro, her gaze steady and determined as if strengthened by the fact that he had come for her. “Besides, I am old enough to make my own decisions and I trust you,” she said boldly.

  Alejandro nodded his head once, then stood back, his arms crossed behind his back as he waited.

  She hurried up the stairs to her room and took a quick glance around, trying to memorize everything. She didn’t know when she would return, if ever. But she did know that her heart was pounding inside her chest. She was making the most potentially dangerous decision of her life, but she had been thinking about it for days. She had packed her bag and kept it hidden under her bed. In truth, she hadn’t had much to put in it.

  The kitchen was silent when she returned. No one had moved in her absence. Her mother had her back turned, but her shoulders were shaking. Her father’s jaw was clenched, and his face pale. She wasn’t certain what to say or do. She knew that this was a monumental decision, but she also knew that she couldn’t keep living with those photographers following her every move and risk her parents being shunned. She also couldn’t return to Ohio. What choice did she really have?

  “I will write,” she said, approaching her mother, who refused to turn around to hug her good-bye. When she moved toward her father, he took a step backward and shifted his body away from her.

  For a moment, Amanda felt as if she were floating above herself, watching the scene unfold. How did it come to this? she thought. In her mind, the past few months seemed to flash in snapshots, a quick procession of memories. From crossing the street in Manhattan to waking in the hospital, from the limousine ride home with Alejandro to listening to him sing her a lullaby in the field, and from dancing in his arms to the kiss in the buggy. And then, of course, being stalked by paparazzi. None of it seemed real. Was she really going to leave the only place she had known as home, the only place where she had ever expected to live? She glanced over her shoulder at Alejandro. He had no expression on his face, and his stance had not shifted. The decision was hers, she realized, and she turned back to her parents.

  “I’m doing this to protect you, all of you,” she said. “If you can’t see that today, perhaps you will see it later.”

  Silence.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked toward Alejandro. This time, he raised an eyebrow as if questioning her one last time. She responded by clutching the bag in her hand and moving toward the door. She paused, just once to look over her shoulder at her parents, but neither one looked back. The decision was made; the damage was done. There was no moving backward, only forward. She lifted her eyes to look at Alejandro, and when he looked at her, she nodded and let him open the door.

  The paparazzi went crazy, their cameras waiting for this moment. They snapped a rapid succession of photos, a few of them filming with large video recorders. Alejandro took a deep breath and reached down for her bag. Taking it from her, he shifted it so that he could place his free hand on the small of her back.

  “You are ready, Amanda?” he asked quietly.

  She looked up at him, but he was staring straight ahead. She couldn’t get a reading on his emotions at this moment. But she felt the warmth of his touch through her dress. “Ja,” she said. She looked ahead, too, mirroring his stance as the photographers pushed toward the SUV, trying to snap their million-dollar photograph.

  “I have no choice,” she added.

  “I will protect you,” he whispered.

  She smiled and lowered her eyes. “I know that, Alejandro,” she replied.

  That was the photograph that would be shown across the world, the famous Cuban hip-hop star in his black suit, standing with his hand pressed lightly on the back of the young, petite Amish woman as they came down the porch of her family’s farm. The soft hint of a smile on her face and the serious look on his told a story full of speculation and fantasy.

  Together, the unlikely couple walked down the steps and hurried to the SUV that was waiting in the driveway to whisk them away from the farm, in the hope that the paparazzi would follow, leaving the Amish community of Lititz in peace, as it had been, in a not-so-distant past.

  Acknowledgments

  Special words of gratitude follow for two very special people:

  First, I must thank fellow author Erin Brady. Through endless (hilarious) texts, e-mails, and an occasional NYC dinner, she has been a true friend, helping me brainstorm and dream about this book. For months, we laughed and strategized over the story line. She continues to be a great asset to me in this series. As a fellow author, she knows and appreciates the hardship of taking a story from concept to publication.

  Second, and most importantly, to my husband, Marc, who continues to support me, lets me type until the later hours of the night (despite the clickety-clack of the keyboard and glow of the screen that keeps him awake), and reads, rereads, and rereads again all of my work. He also encourag
es me to continue my weekend escapes to Lancaster to interact with my Amish friends and “family,” while he takes care of the home front. Every writer should be blessed to have a Marc on her team.

  Glossary

  Pennsylvania Dutch

  ach vell

  an expression similar to oh well

  Ausbund

  Amish hymnal

  Daed, or her daed

  Father

  danke

  thank you

  Deitsch

  Dutch

  dochder

  daughter

  Englische

  non-Amish people

  Englischer

  a non-Amish person

  g’may

  church district

  grossdaadi

  grandfather

  grossdaadihaus

  small house attached to the main dwelling

  gut (guder) mariye

  good morning

  haus

  house

  ja

  yes

  kapp

  cap

  kinner

  children

  maedel

  unmarried woman

  Mamm, or her mamm

  Mother, or her mother

  nee, nein

  no

  nichts

  nothing

  Ordnung

  unwritten rules of the g’may

  rumschpringe

  period of “fun” time for youths

  Schaffmann

  worker

  wie gehts?

  what’s going on?

  wunderbar

  wonderful

  verboden

  forbidden

  Spanish

  ay, mi madre

  an expression; literally oh, my mother

  bueno

  good

  buenos días

  a greeting; good day

  claro

  of course

  cubano

  Cuban

  dígame

  talk to me

  Dios mío

  my God

  dulce

  sweet

  gracias

  thank you

  linda

  pretty

  permiso

  permission

  por favor

  please

  Princesa

  nickname; princess

  salud

  cheers

  sí

  yes

  Chapter One

  The sunlight shone through the sheer curtains covering the long windows in the bedroom. It cast a soft and golden glow throughout, painting the thick white comforter on the bed in dancing shades of sunrise. Small specks of dust floated, imprisoned in the sunbeams penetrating the room. But no one saw them. Not yet. The radiance of that particular early-morning phenomenon went unnoticed in the bedroom where Amanda lay, for she wasn’t yet awake.

  Outside the window, a car horn blasted from the street below. Noise. A fluttering of eyelids. A bit of light. Slowly, Amanda rolled over in bed, lifting her arm to cover her eyes, shielding herself from the morning sunbeams, even if only for a few more seconds. The previous day had been long, and she’d had an even longer night. Sleep had not come easily, and what little she had was fitful.

  Everything seemed strange to her as she began to wake up and take in her surroundings. Different indeed. From the brightness of the room to the high, vaulted ceilings with thick white moldings and fancy paintings on the walls, she knew that she was not at home this morning, and all of the memories from the previous day started to flood her heart with emotion.

  The drive from her parents’ farm to Philadelphia seemed to never end. She sat in silence in the back of the SUV, staring thoughtfully out the window, too aware that Alejandro was watching her. His eyes on the back of her neck caused the color to rise in her cheeks, so she kept her head turned away, not wanting him to see the effect he had on her or the tears that were gathering at the corners of her eyes.

  As the farmland rolled away and the small meandering roads had turned into a highway, she sighed.

  “Princesa?”

  She wanted to turn to look at him, but she was afraid.

  He reached out and touched her hand. For a moment, she froze. His touch was soft and gentle, reassuring her that he was going to take care of her. When his fingers finally entwined with hers, the warmth of his skin touching hers pushed her over the edge.

  The tears fell.

  “Princesa,” he whispered again and reached out to force her to look at him. He wiped the tears from her eyes, staring deeply into her face. “It’s going to be all right, sí? I came for you, and you will be fine.”

  She nodded.

  “You believe me, no?”

  Again, the simple nod.

  He smiled. “You have no words? That is unusual.”

  She swallowed, wanting to say something, but the feeling of weightlessness hung over her. She felt as if she were floating above herself, watching the two people in the back of the SUV, being driven by a chauffeur who headed toward the big city whose skyscrapers were already visible on the horizon. It was surreal. Certainly this woman who sat here, with a white prayer kapp on her head, holding hands with a Cuban singing legend, was not her. Not Amanda Beiler.

  “I have left everything I know,” she finally whispered.

  “You have the future ahead of you,” he replied, trying to reassure her. “And there would be no future for you now at home, not with the paparazzi following your every move.”

  She knew that he spoke wisely. She had known those words to be true. That was why she had finally sent the message to him. Her life was over in the Amish community. No one would ever believe that she had not been romantically involved with Alejandro. No man would want to court the most famous Amish woman in the world. And no community would welcome her to live among them, not with cameras gathering wherever she went.

  “What will happen now?” she asked.

  “You will change,” he said with a shrug of his shoulder, as though it was the most natural thing to do. “And you will live.”

  She tossed back the covers of the bed and sat up. Looking around the strange surroundings, she caught her breath as she took in the opulence of the hotel room. The high ceilings with thick, ornate moldings painted in high-gloss white with gold layered in between the carvings. There
was a brass chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling with crystal beads dangling from each arm. When the sunlight hit them, rainbow colors danced around the room. It was beautiful and mesmerizing, unlike anything she had seen before . . . dancing colors of red, purple, blue, and gold.

  Amanda was wearing her white nightgown, her hair hanging down to her waist. Her small suitcase was on top of a dresser, where she had put it the previous night. It was open, and she could see where she had folded her dress and left it when she had changed. Her black shoes were on the floor, beside the dresser, exactly where she had left them.

  Standing in the middle of the room, she turned around, inhaling the foreign ambiance. Once again, she felt that floating feeling, as if she were watching someone else’s life. It was surreal, dreamlike, and certainly not happening to her.

  The room was magnificent with a large vase of fresh flowers, mostly white roses and lilies, set upon a circular table near the door. There were white roses and lilies. She walked to the flowers and leaned over, breathing deeply. The sweet scent took her back to her parents’ farm. She had always loved gardening, spending long spring mornings tending to the vegetables but also to the flowers that Mamm had planted around the porch. Amanda loved to prune back the roses and clip the thorns. Sometimes her mother had even let her keep one or two roses in her own room. Always out of sight of visitors, since flower displays were prideful. Now she was surrounded by dozens of roses.

  Indeed, she thought, I will change.

  She hadn’t expected that the paparazzi would be at the hotel in Philadelphia. She had thought they would still be back in Lititz. So when they pulled up to the hotel, Amanda gasped and shied away from the window. She brushed against Alejandro as the people outside began to crowd around the SUV. Flashes went off as cameras were shoved close to the windows.