by Layla Hagen
But I know better. I could bet anything Summer hasn’t even tuned in to watch. Not if she thought I was about to announce a “reunion” with Amy. I understand the message now. Fuck, I can’t even imagine what she must be thinking. I can count on one hand the instances when I wanted to throttle Preston. This is one of them.
“I need to leave the hotel,” I say.
“You can’t do that, Alex. There is no way for you to get out of the hotel without being followed by paps.”
My mind is racing. I need to talk to Summer, but I can’t lead the paps to her. I’ll call her. Except, she must be sleeping. It’s past midnight. I’ll wait until the morning and whip up a plan.
Preston and I end up not going to sleep at all. Preston’s phone rings with request after request for interviews. His e-mail inbox is overflowing too. The media never sleeps. We adapt my schedule with every call, and the next two weeks will be spent traveling across the country. I’m not looking forward to it. Overnight, three fans and a pap attempt to sneak up to my floor. That’s why I wanted to move out of LA. Celebrity culture is out of control here.
Toward five o’clock in the morning, things slow down. I gaze out of the window. I have a direct view over the back entrance of the hotel. There are fewer paps out there. Experience has taught me that this is the magic hour, when most head home for a nap, or just to get a coffee. In two hours max, they’ll all be back and on high alert. This is my window of opportunity.
I turn to Preston. “Arrange a car for me.”
“Your plane leaves before lunch. You have plenty of time.”
“I want to see Summer first.”
“Alex—” he begins to protest, but I cut him off.
“I’ll be gone for the next two weeks. I’m not leaving before seeing my girl first and talking to her face-to-face. There are fewer paps out there. You know where she’s staying, right?”
“I know where I sent her bag, but there’s no guarantee she’s still there. Maybe she went to a hotel.”
Nah, I know Summer. She likes being with her family. I’m sure she spent the night at her cousin’s.
“Have a car ready in ten minutes. I’m taking all the bags with me. I’m going straight to LAX afterward.”
Ten minutes later, I stride through the dim garage of the hotel and climb into the back seat of a gray Toyota. The car should be inconspicuous enough. It doesn’t have tinted windows, which poses a risk, but it’ll draw less attention.
“Hey, Mike,” I greet the driver, handing him a slip of paper with Summer’s address. “Let’s get out of here without making a fuss.”
“Hard thing to do with all those wolves out there waiting for you, but I’ll do my best.”
Today’s disguise isn’t my cap, but a newspaper. I hold it open close enough, so my face isn’t visible from the sides. My stomach knots when the car lurches forward, then up the ramp leading out of the garage. When the car is horizontal, Mike hits the gas hard. I sink against my seat as the car propels forward.
“We have a pap car behind us,” Mike announces.
“Just one?”
“Yes.”
“We need to lose the trail before reaching the highway.”
Left, right, left again. Into a passage, then out of it and down a labyrinth of streets. Our detour takes almost an hour, and my temples are pounding from the adrenaline coursing through me, but it pays off. We lose the pap car.
“Great job, Mike.”
“Thank you, Mr. Westbrook.”
I relax a little, pressing my fingers to my temple, moving them in a circular pattern. When my phone beeps, I expect to find a message from Preston, but I’m pleasantly surprised.
Summer: Are you awake?
I wasn’t expecting her to be up so early.
Alex: Yes.
I call her at the same time she calls me.
“Any chance you deleted my message last night without reading it?” she quips.
“I read it. Talked to Preston too. I know what he told you. Neither Amy nor I shared with our teams what we were going to announce, so they’d assumed we were going along with the studio’s plan. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the plans, but you didn’t pick up your phone, and I didn’t want to put all that in a message. I couldn’t wait for you to return to the hotel to talk to you about it, we had to act fast. But I’m sorry, I didn’t handle that well. Are you at your cousin’s?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because I’m on my way. We had a pap car behind us, but we lost the tail. I’ll be there in...”
“Three minutes,” Mike tells me.
“...three minutes,” I repeat into the phone.
“Oh, shit. I didn’t tell Val about you. She’ll freak out. She’ll fangirl. But she’s trustworthy. She won’t tell anyone.” She talks so fast that I barely catch her words.
“Baby, relax. It’s okay. I won’t stay long. I need to get to LAX, but I wanted to see you this morning. Set things straight.”
“Yes, Preston e-mailed it to me. I saw just before I texted you.”
“We just pulled into your cousin’s street.”
“I’ll come open the front gate.”
A few seconds later, the car slows to a stop. Shoving the phone into my pocket, I look around before climbing out, but the street is deserted except for a few parked cars, so I head to the front gate, which opens right away.
“I told my cousin, but I don’t think she’s had time to process it,” Summer whispers as she lets me inside the yard. A tall brunette approaches us, grinning widely.
“Alex, this is my cousin Valentina. Val, this is—”
“Alexander Westbrook,” her cousin says, looking between Summer and me before letting out a squeal. “Oh my God. Oh my God. You were talking about Summer last night at the conference?” She turns to Summer. “You’ve been holding out on me. I can’t believe this. Oh my God. My lips are sealed, though. Don’t worry.”
I smile, even though I’m getting impatient. I want to be alone with my girl.
“Valentina, right? Not to be rude, but I don’t have much time. I need to leave for LAX soon, and I want to talk to Summer alone.”
“Yes of course. I’ll just... find something to do.” Valentina nods vigorously, then climbs the steep slope of the yard, entering the house. I take Summer’s hand, leading her to the small wooden picnic table at the foot of the slope.
Then I cup her face in my hands and kiss her with all I have until we both come up for air. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the plan,” I say, still out of breath. “I should have found a way, but there was no time. I wasn’t thinking straight. I had no idea Preston would jump to conclusions before seeing the actual conference. I would never have gone for the fake romance, Summer. I promised you I wouldn’t.”
“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that... when we spoke yesterday afternoon you sounded so distant, and I... I know I was overthinking it, but it felt like you were pushing me away a bit, wanting to deal with it all on your own.”
I press my forehead against hers, breathing in her sweet scent. Did I do that? Admittedly, I’ve always had the tendency to push out everyone when shit hits the fan, focusing on finding a solution.
“It wasn’t my intention to shut you out. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. Sometimes I get lost in my own head when things get rough, but I promise I’ll do better. I’m a work in progress, baby, but you mean so much to me. You’re so amazing and so important to me. Don’t doubt that. I need you to promise me one thing too. That you won’t believe again that I’d do anything that could hurt you. I need you to trust me.”
“I know. I do. But Preston said it, and he knows everything that’s going on. And I know how important your career is to you. I thought... well... I thought that when it came down to it, you’d do anything for it.”
Including walking all over her feelings. I can’t even imagine what she went through last night. My sweet girl.
“I’m sorry about the text. Were you mad at me?” she a
sks.
“Yeah, I was. Because I thought I’d lost you, and I love you too much to let that happen, Summer.”
“Oh, Alex... I love you too. So much.”
I kiss her again, and I don’t let her go until I feel her melt against me, and she sighs in my mouth. I need to reassure this amazing woman that she’s the most important person in my life. I need to show her.
“I’m so glad you came to see me,” she whispers. “You need to be kissed and smothered with love before you leave. I can’t do that over the phone.”
My Summer. Always looking out for me.
“When will we see each other? Your schedule for the next two weeks looks packed.”
“It is, but I’ll fly straight home after it’s over.”
“When are you flying to Chicago? I saw that your first interview is there.”
“Take off is scheduled in two hours. I was thinking about leaving part of my security team with you—”
“I don’t need it. You didn’t name me. I’ll be fine, Alex. Just fine. Don’t worry about me. Concentrate on the interviews. And by the way? I’m so proud of you for laying it all out like that, for doing things on your terms.”
I smile. I knew Summer would understand. She’s probably the only one who does.
“Thank you.”
“Have you heard from the studio execs yet?”
“Preston did. They’re pissed off. If they saw me as difficult before, now I’m their least favorite person. I’ll try to turn things around during these interviews.”
“I know you will.” I kiss her again, until she feels it in her very bones that she’s the one.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Summer
The week after my return from LA drags on forever. Olivia is on edge, snapping at everyone. I heard that in my absence, she yelled at Diana, who let slip that if I ever open my gallery, she’ll work for me even for free. As a result, I’m her least favorite person. The idea has been brewing in my mind for a long time, more so after the confrontation with Olivia last week.
During my breaks, I look online for spaces to rent, make lists of galleries I could work with and artists I’d like to feature. On a particularly reckless evening, I even pull up my old business plan template. Could I pull this off? I do have more experience. And lately, I found the courage too. Seeing Alex take risks has been rubbing off on me. He makes me want to dare more, to reach for what I want.
I’ve been feverishly watching his appearances. The fans adored his and Amy’s interview in LA. I can’t quite understand why, but Preston says it’s probably because they have two fresh happily ever afters to latch onto.
Gossip magazines still blast snippets of it. There is no word from the studio regarding the spin-off. Whenever someone asks Alex about his secret love, he smiles mysteriously and says it wouldn’t be a secret if he spilled the beans.
What with his back-to-back appearances and flights this week, we’ve only had time for short, quick conversations. I’m in a half mind to fly to New York, where his next appearance is. He needs love and pampering, and it’s hard to do that from a distance.
He needed me that night after the conference. Was I there to shower him with love and reassure him that his career won’t go up in flames—or that I’ll be there for him and support him even if it does? No, I was not.
What if he thinks we might not be meant to be together after all?
I try to push that thought away, but fear is a sneaky thing. I push it out the door, but it comes barreling back through a window, which prompts my sisters to whisk me to a spa on Saturday morning.
“You look like you need some girl time and pampering,” Pippa declares. I told them what went down in LA when I returned, and they’ve been watching over me like mother hens ever since.
“I’ll never say no to that.”
Alice nods vigorously. “We’re going for manicures, pedicures, massage, facials. The entire shebang.”
“Do you also need cookies? Cupcakes? Should we go all-out with tiramisu?” Pippa inquires as we climb into her car. “We need to estimate the seriousness of this.”
“I’m conflicted,” I say honestly. “But there’s no way we can go wrong with cupcakes, right?”
“Done,” Pippa says.
Alice takes her phone out of her bag. “I’m calling my cook to tell him to make us a fresh batch.”
“Alice!” I admonish. “Your cook’s shift starts in one hour.”
She smiles sweetly. “It’s a sisterly emergency. And he knows better than to say no.”
Oh man, some sisterly love is just what the doctor ordered. I love them to the moon and back for spending this day with me.
They drop me back at home late in the afternoon, and I fiddle some more with my business plan. When the alarm on my laptop rings, I scramble for my remote. Alex’s segment on one of the top national late-night shows begins in a few minutes.
My heart rate picks up when Alex appears on screen. He takes my breath away every time.
“Alex, you’ve caused quite a stir,” the host, David, says. He’s one of my favorite presenters, with a spot-on humor and old Hollywood type of charm. “You’re the fans’ golden boy again.”
“So everyone tells me.” He turns to look straight at the camera. “I hope it gets back to the studio.” Turning to look straight at the live audience in the studio, he holds his hand in front of the mouth, mimicking an amplifier. “Spread the word, guys. Spread the word.”
“Still giving you trouble, eh? I’ve heard there is a petition for your spin-off to be approved. Received three million votes.”
Alex holds up his finger. “And counting! Thank you for all your support, folks.”
The presenter leans forward, clasping his hands together, a crooked grin on his face. “I’ve got to ask. You’ve been mysterious about it, but I still have to ask. America is dying to know. Who won Alexander Westbrook’s heart?”
Alex turns to the audience again, fake whispering. “Who will tell David I can’t say? He won’t invite me again if I tell him to his face to mind his own business.”
The audience roars with laughter.
“Do you think she’s watching?” David asks.
“Come on, man. You’re putting me in a rough spot. If I say yes, she’ll think I’m a self-absorbed you-know-what. If I say no... well, I actually don’t know what she’d think.”
David leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, a thoughtful look on his face. “True. I don’t know what my wife would say either, and I’ve been married for twenty years. Women’s minds are a mystery, huh?”
“The struggle is real, David. But hats off to them for keeping us on our toes.”
I grin, clutching a couch pillow to my chest. Surely that’s a good sign?
David tilts his head. “I’ll try another angle. You can’t tell us who she is, or where you met. But tell us about her. What made you fall for her?”
Oh, oh, oh! I shift to the edge of my couch, swallowing hard once, twice, hoping to overcome the rhythmic thumping in my ears.
“She’s fun and stubborn. I don’t know exactly when I started to fall in love: when I realized how sweet she is, or how fierce. But I haven’t stopped falling since.”
David whistles, clapping his hands. “I think if we opened the window now, we’d hear America release a collective swoon.”
Yes, yes, they would! I’m swooning loud enough for the entire country.
“What would you tell her if you knew she’d be watching?” David asks.
The camera focuses on Alex’s handsome face, and he flashes my favorite smile. The one he shows only when we’re alone. I grip the pillow tighter, my ass nearly sliding off the couch as I lean forward in anticipation.
“I’d tell her that she has my heart. I can’t wait for this tour to be over so I can head straight to her. I miss her every day. And I’d be the luckiest guy if she married me.”
Messages pop up on the screen of my phone before I even have time
to react.
Alice: Have you just been proposed to on national television?
Pippa: OMMGGGGGGG yes!!! I’d call, but I don’t want us to miss anything else he has to say.
Val: BRING OUT THE CHARDONNAY!!!!!
“Way to raise the stakes!” David exclaims. “Folks, this is how a superhero proposes. On primetime TV.”
The audience cheers and whistles, and as the camera focuses on them, they wave, sending kisses.
Whoa. Did he really propose? Is this really happening, or is it just a figment of my imagination? Wishful thinking, because I’ve dreamed so much for Alex and me to be forever? My heart grows in size, and I have an overwhelming urge to hug someone, preferably Alex. My eyes are damp with tears, but there is no one here to see, so I don’t bother to wipe them.
This terrible, terrible man. Look who’s talking about being kept on his toes.
I turn my attention to the TV again, but David and Alex have already moved to another topic. I lie on my couch curled up, hugging two pillows to my chest, smiling like a fool.
Alex calls forty-eight seconds after the show is over. In my haste to answer, I somehow manage to reject the call. My hands are trembling a tiny bit as I call him back.
“Sorry, I pressed the wrong button,” I explain.
“What are you up to?”
It takes me a second to realize he doesn’t know I’ve been watching.
“I watched the show.” My eyes sting, happy tears swelling to the surface. The problem with these pesky tears is that it doesn’t matter if they’re happy or sad, I still get that weird knot in my throat. As I try to swallow it, a snotty sound reverberates from my throat and nose.
“Summer, are you crying? Why are you crying?”
“Because I love you. I love you so much, and I... I didn’t know if that was enough,” I admit, sandwiching the pillows between my knees and chin.
“Babe, you’re mine. Even when you’re scared or have doubts, you’re mine to love and take care of. I love you more than life, Summer. You have my heart, and you’ll have it for the rest of our days. I can’t promise you it will all be rainbows and sunshine—”
