Now here I am in the back of the shuttle bus on our way to the red carpet premiere. “It’s hot as balls,” Autumn says from beside me, bringing her hand up and fanning herself with it. “Black pants with hundred thousand degrees of humidity is no bueno,” she says, and I look at her. She is wearing black pants and a light pink silk shirt with a black bow around her neck to close the collar. “I heard what happened with Cassie,” she whispers, and I look around to see if anyone is listening. The guys are on their phones, the three blondes are all touching up their makeup, and Kendall is FaceTiming her kids who just woke up.
“Yeah,” I say, not adding more fuel to the fire. “It is what it is.”
She shakes her head and then the shuttle stops. We all get out, making our way down the red carpet to our designated spots. I walk to my chair and sit down while my camera guy sets up. I look up and see that the fans have already lined up across the street, and a steel barrier has been brought in to keep them out. Police are lined up to make sure the crowd doesn’t get out of hand. I grab the earpiece and put it in my ear, then pick up the mic. “Testing. One, two, three.”
“I hear you loud and clear,” my camera guy says, and I just nod at him, smiling.
“Thank you . . .” I wait for him to tell me his name.
“Mike,” he says gruffly. “I’m going for a smoke before this shit gets crazy.” I nod, then get up and smooth down my skirt. Today was not a good day to wear long sleeves. I look down at my white long-sleeved dress that is tight until it passes my butt and then it flares out a touch. The sleeves are tight to the elbow and then flare out with a single black stripe around the hem. It’s classy; the peek of cleavage from the dip in the front is the only hint of sexy, and I’m wearing my sky-high open-toe black leather shoes that tie around the ankle. I see Mike coming back, and I look at him. “The circus has arrived,” he says, and I just nod at him while he gets the camera on his shoulder and starts filming me. “Move over to the right,” he says. The next hour is nuts with special guests, pop stars, a couple of the co-stars, and then I hear a roar of screams.
“I guess the star of the show just got here,” I say to Mike, and he just nods.
“The eagle has arrived.” I hear in my earpiece, and I think I roll my eyes because Mike laughs at me. I look up at the television screen that they have in the corner. Tyler steps out of the car with a huge smile on his face, and one of his hands goes up to wave as he walks across the street. He spends a good thirty minutes making his way down the line of fans. Taking pictures with them, signing stuff, smiling, laughing, and shaking hands, he gives them everything. Then he finally comes across the street to walk down the red carpet, stopping for the cameras that are set up behind us. He walks down the red carpet, stopping every couple of feet to turn to look at the camera. His hand in his pocket shows off the vest of his gray three-piece suit. His hair and his smile are perfect, and his eyes perfection.
He looks ahead, then turns to look at Jonathan, joking with him and tossing his head back to laugh. I stand here just watching the way he owns this; the way he was born for this. He comes down the carpet, smiling the whole time, and the flashes go off like crazy. He looks at the crowd, and then his eyes find me, and he just stares as if I’m the only one here. What the hell? His eyes light up a tad, and his smile is a bit brighter, but then he turns, and the shield comes back up.
He finally makes his way into the theater, and then we all stand around, packing up. “Here you are,” Yamina says, handing me the white sheet. “You are invited to the dinner tonight after the movie screening, but if you don’t want to go, there is a shuttle that will take you straight back to the hotel. Tomorrow, we leave the hotel at nine a.m., so make sure to be there on time. So if you go out and party tonight, just remember you have to be ready to go tomorrow.”
I nod and take the white paper, folding it and putting it in my gold purse while she walks away to meet Yolanda. I hand the microphone back to Mike. “It was a pleasure working with you,” I tell him, and he just nods at me as he grabs the mic.
“You were easy on the eyes,” he says, blinking at me. “I’ll have the footage sent to your paper for them to put online.”
“Thank you so much.” I smile, grabbing my bag and walking down the red carpet. The fans haven’t moved; not one of them has left. I walk to the left where I see Jonathan, Autumn, and Kendall. “One down, nine to go,” I say, and they all smile and laugh.
“That is one way to look at it,” Kendall says. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m more than happy to take these shoes off and call it a night.”
Autumn agrees. “I think Yolanda said the shuttle would take us back to the hotel.”
“Where is everyone else?” I ask. Looking around, I spot Peter and Jim.
“We have to go in the theater, and there is a secret exit,” Autumn says, and I follow them down the red carpet. Most of the photographers are gone to upload all their photos. A couple linger while they go through the pictures on their camera. The takedown crew is already tearing things down. I walk inside, looking around as my heel catches on something, and I feel myself falling. I think I screech, but I’m caught before I know what is going on. It happens so fast. One second, I’m looking at the red carpet coming closer, and the next, I’m wrapped up in two strong arms. I don’t see anything except gray.
“Oh my gosh,” someone says, and then I’m put on my feet. Tyler’s arm is still wrapped around my waist while I get my balance. “Are you okay?” I look at Yamina, seeing her there with a white face. Autumn, Kendall, and Jonathan all look a little shocked.
Looking at Tyler now. “I was almost red carpet roadkill,” I say, laughing nervously. My hands are still shaking a little as I try to hold my purse, realizing that Tyler hasn’t moved his hand from around my waist.
“Are you okay?” Jonathan comes to my side, and I’m sudden squeezed tighter to Tyler.
“Yeah.” I wave my hand in the air. “I’m fine, but my ego, that is going to be bruised. Thankfully, the cameras weren’t rolling, and the pictures weren’t snapping.” I look at Tyler now and smile at him. “Thank you for not making me eat my teeth.” I wink at him, and he laughs.
“The shuttle is ready,” Yamina says. “It’s right through that door.”
I nod at her as she rushes off, and the other three walk ahead. “That was so embarrassing,” I say, hiding my face in my hands. “Oh my God, can you imagine the headlines?” I say, turning my head into his shoulder.
“I don’t suppose this is repayment for that favor that I owe you,” he says with a smirk on his face. I glare up at him, but it doesn’t last long before his smirk turns into a huge grin and then a laugh. The easiness of the whole thing—as if it’s just the two of us and not the hundreds of people right outside the door. I turn and laugh into his shoulder, his body shaking now from his own laughter.
“There you are,” someone says from over my shoulder, and I turn to see that Cassie is now rushing to him. Seeing me here, she looks at me, and then she spots his hand around my waist. “I was looking all around for you.”
“I’m here,” he says. I try to disengage from his arm, but he doesn’t just let me go. “I was going to catch the shuttle back to the hotel.”
“You have dinner reservations,” she says to him. I slowly move to the side, and he lets me this time.
“You told me it wasn’t mandatory,” he tells her, and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine,” she says, reaching in to her purse, “let me get the car.”
“We can all take the shuttle.” I look from him to Cassie and see the shock on her face. The thoughts that must be running through her mind right now give me life. Riding with the commoners must be the highlight of her evening. “Are you coming?” he asks her and then turns, putting his hand on my elbow and walking toward the door where the others just exited through. We make it to the shuttle, and the door opens when the driver sees us walking toward it. Tyler waits for me to climb the three steps, and then he holds out his
hand for Cassie to get in. I walk to the back and sit in the first available seat.
“Oh, are you going back to the hotel?” Jonathan asks, and I nod. “Great. We’re going to check out the ramen place around the corner.”
“Oh, yeah?” I say to them when I feel someone sit next to me.
“That place is good,” Tyler says from next to me, “but if you really want to try the best ramen . . .”
“Define best ramen,” Autumn says and then looks at me and then Kendall. “I mean, it is ramen and not Michelin-rated cuisine.”
“It’s actually just a hole in the wall. I think it has like maybe ten seats, but it’s the best thing you will possibly ever eat in your entire life.” She looks at him not convinced. “Trust me, I filmed here three years ago, and the crew brought me there.”
“We are still talking about ramen, aren’t we?” Kendall says. “Like noodles that are freeze-dried and then dunked in water and flavored with the condom-sized packet, right?” I roll my lips and silently laugh when Tyler gasps out loud. He gets up and goes to the front of the bus, talking to the driver. “I think I insulted him.”
We all watch him as he walks back to the seat. “He’s going to take us there,” he says.
Cassie groans. Rolling her eyes, she ignores us and looks at Tyler. “I already had your dinner sent up to your suite. I have no reservations for there, and we don’t even have a bodyguard.”
“Oh, dear God,” Autumn mumbles under her breath, and when I look at her, she is looking out the window trying to ignore the conversation.
“You don’t have to come, Cassie,” Tyler tells her. “Besides, all the paparazzi are still at the theater.” She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she takes out her phone, and her fingers move a mile a minute. No one says anything while we look out the window as we wind down the smallest road ever made, then stop in the middle of the street. “All right, folks,” Tyler says, turning with a huge smile on his face, “follow me.” He walks to the front, bending his head to walk out of the bus, then turns to hold out a hand to help me down. I look around while he helps the other women off the bus. Smog is everywhere, the honking is so loud, and the little scooters are zigzagging their way through us. But the smell of food lingers in the air. He walks toward this little door that you need to duck in order to enter.
I look around and see a girl at the front of the restaurant taking orders, and the chefs are all behind the half wall. The tables, correction, table, if you can even call it that because what it is, is a long table with individual stools in a row. Everyone sits and dines together. Very homey. I look up at the menu, and it’s all in Korean, but thankfully, there are pictures.
“What do you want?” Tyler asks from beside me.
“I’m going to go with the vegetable ramen,” I say, pointing at the picture of noodles, broth, mushrooms, carrots, and a bunch of other vegetables. He nods his head and turns to ask the others what they want. I move to the back wall as people walk out from the back of the restaurant. Tyler goes to order the food, and then he hands numbers to everyone.
“This is your seat number, so you go sit down and your chef will make your meal,” he says to Autumn. She looks down and walks into the restaurant, looking for her stool. I didn’t realize there is a chef for each seat. Kendall follows her and sits next to her, then Jonathan, and then Cassie. I hold out my hand for my ticket. “There were only four together, and then ours are together,” he says and then turns to lead the way.
We walk past the four of them, and no one really notices. Well, Cassie notices as she gets her phone out and types on it. We finally get to the last two seats in the restaurant all the way at the end right before the bathroom. I take a seat and then watch as he sits next to me. I smile and then look down. “What is that smile about?” he asks. The chef in front of us hands him a beer and then places a glass of white wine in front of me. “I didn’t know what you drank, so I improvised.”
“Wine is good.” I smile at him and hold up the glass. “To premiere night one.” He raises his beer and clinks it with my glass. I take a sip of the crisp white wine, and he takes a pull of his beer.
“So the smile,” he says. “Tell me.”
I shake my head, setting the wine glass on the counter. “This,” I say with both my hands. “You in your three-piece suit sitting in the equivalent of a greasy diner.”
He laughs. “I’m more at home in this greasy diner than on the red carpet, Jessica,” he says softly. “I don’t do this job for this.” He points at his suit. “I do it because they let me do crazy stunts, they pay me a shitload, and I’m actually good at it.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I mean, I guess you’re good at it. You are the highest paid guy, so you might be good at it.” My finger taps the base of the wine glass. “Plus, it doesn’t help that you’re good looking, right?” I say, grabbing my wine again to take a drink.
“You think I’m good looking?” he asks, and I roll my eyes at his cocky smirk.
“No, but your fans do,” I tell him as the chef puts my dish in front of me, and all I hear is Tyler and his irritating laugh. I grab the ceramic spoon and move the noodles under the clear broth. I scoop a little bit of the broth, blow on it, and then bring the spoon to my lips. The minute it hits my tongue, the burst of flavors explodes.
“Holy shit, this is good,” I say, taking more broth. I look over and see Tyler grabbing his chopsticks to twirl the ramen on his spoon. “And you can eat with chopsticks?” I shake my head. “You are lucky we have a truce, or I’d be leaking the story that Tyler Beckett is just like a normal person.” He chuckles when I say this.
I try to roll the noodles and fail miserably. I lean into him, and he puts his ear closer to me. “You think they have utensils?” I ask in a whisper and then watch as he gets up. I’m expecting him to go ask for utensils, but he doesn’t. Instead, he slides his jacket off and stands behind me, then leans over my back and puts his hand on mine. I feel the heat from his body seep into my back, and I think I stop breathing. “What . . .?” I whisper or stutter; my heartbeat is going off the charts.
“I’m going to teach you,” he whispers into my ear. His face is right beside mine as he puts the chopsticks in my right hand and the spoon in my left. His big hands cover mine. “Now what you do is you pick up a couple of noodles.” He takes about ten with the chopsticks. “And then you put your spoon under the tips of the chopsticks.” He’s talking, and I’m looking at the bowl in front of me, but I can’t focus on anything but his arms around me and the way he fits behind me. “Then you twirl,” he continues, and I feel him look at me from the side. My eyes find his, and his crystal blue eyes are a touch darker. “You smell like strawberries,” he says. His face inches a touch closer, and now I know for sure I’m holding my breath.
“Are you guys almost done?” Cassie says, and I drop my hands from his, my spoon clattering in the bowl. He stands. “We are almost done, so I’m going to call the shuttle driver.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Tyler says as if he wasn’t just behind me. As if I wasn’t a touch closer to kissing him. What the fuck is wrong with me? “We should be finished in about ten,” he says as he sits back down and picks up his spoon to continue eating. “Eat,” he says. It’s the only thing he says, and I don’t bother talking because I don’t trust myself. I’m not even hungry anymore. I eat a bit more and then get up when Autumn says the shuttle is here. I get up at the same time as Tyler; he grabs his jacket in one hand and holds out the other to gesture for me to walk out ahead of him. I get on the bus and sit in one of the seats, and Tyler sits next to me.
I don’t say a word the whole way back as the others chat around me. We get back to the hotel, and I make my way to my room. Wishing everyone a good night when I step out of the elevator as the rest of them go to their own floor, I slide my card in the slot, then collapse on the back of the door, finally letting out the breath I feel like I was holding this whole time. “What the fuck just happened?” I ask the question even t
hough it will go unanswered.
Chapter Eleven
Tyler
This hot actor is headed back to rehab. His ex-wife staged an intervention when he spent three days on a bender . . . by himself. Sources say it was his cry for help.
I’ve been on this treadmill for the past thirty minutes, and no matter how fast I keep pushing myself, it’s not cutting it. I look at the clock on the wall in front of me and see that it’s almost six fifteen. Usually, Jessica is here by six seventeen. I mean, not that I was keeping track, but it’s something I noticed. Last night when I had her hands in mine, and I looked at her, I could almost taste her. I knew if I moved just a touch more, nothing would stop me, but then I heard Cassie’s voice, and my walls went back up. I’ve never been seen kissing in public; that shit is for teenagers. That doesn’t happen to me. I play hard and fuck harder, but I do it in private. You will never see me gracing the fucking tabloids with my dick out. Fuck that shit.
I push myself harder on my run, just remembering last night and the fucking slip. I shake my head because I can’t let it happen again. As I repeat and repeat it over and over again, I hear the door open, and I know it’s her. My body goes on full alert, and I force myself to focus on the building in front of us out the window, but then I see her hands turning on the television, and my head turns to the side. Wrong fucking idea. She walks briskly in her light gray tight fucking pants that mold every fucking curve she has. A tight white shirt that is wide around the sides shows the sports bra underneath of her toned stomach. She puts it on CNN for ten minutes and then plugs her earbuds in and switches to Dateline. She’s nothing if not a creature of habit.
I turn my head forward, not saying anything. I start making a mental note in my head about her; what is it that gets me so worked up over her? Maybe I’m still feeling this way because I felt bad for being an asshole and having her watch that presentation without her name there . . . in front of her peers. Maybe that is why I look forward into the glass, and I see her reflection in the mirror and start breaking her down. Fine, she has great hair; fucking hair I could fist, yanking her head back so I could look at her. Her eyes are mesmerizing. Sometimes they are green like an emerald, or if she’s in the sun, they turn the color of a shamrock. Her smile, when she is really laughing, is amazing, and her whole face lights up. But then when she smirks at me, I want to rip it off her face. Her mouth also; the sass that comes out of it makes me want to pull my hair out of my head.
Hollywood Playboy Page 8