Relatively Famous

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Relatively Famous Page 4

by Heather Leigh


  Great, I groan. Of course my timing to discuss a major life change with Leah would suck. It doesn’t look as if she’ll be available for girl talk anytime soon.

  What free publicity?

  I turn to sit in my usual seat and stop abruptly. Someone is sitting at my table. Not just that, but there are “someones” sitting at every table in the café. The guy at my table is alone, hunched over and facing the corner. Similar to how Adam sits when he comes in.

  Hmmm, this guy likes his privacy.

  I decide that he would be a good test for me to branch out and meet more people since he doesn’t seem like the type to pry into my life. Plus, he’s sitting at my table, so it serves him right to have to deal with me sitting with him. And my feet hurt, so there’s no way I’m going to stand when there’s a seat right there.

  Approaching the table from behind him, I flick my eyes over his appearance. Winter coat, hideous baseball hat pulled down low, scruffy hair on his face that’s just longer than the usual “sexy stubble” that men favor. In fact, the way he bends over his coffee and stares down at the table, it seems as if he’s trying to become all but invisible. I recognize the posture because I used to look just like that when I was uncomfortable being out in a crowd.

  Well, here goes nothing … I sling my huge purse up onto the table and sit in the familiar chair. Smiling brightly, I start talking. “I’m sorry to intrude, you don’t have to talk to me if you want privacy, there’s just nowhere else to sit.” I make a vague motion with my hand indicating the full room. As I get situated, I look up at him, well, what I can see of him under the brim of his filthy Boston Red Sox cap, and freeze.

  It’s Mr. Gorgeous. Drew from the gym. The one who has been plaguing my thoughts for the last few days, and quite a few of my nights. I feel the heat of the deep blush that must be staining my cheeks as every single feeling that he instilled in me zings through my body at once, making me both embarrassed and excited at the same time. I’m freaking out inside, but I try to keep that damn smile pasted on my face. It falters when he just stares back at me, saying nothing.

  Oh shit, he doesn’t remember me.

  After an eternity, he breaks the silence. “Sydney.” His voice is just as comforting and sexy as I remember. “What are you doing here?”

  Speechless, I stare at him stupidly until I realize that my lack of a response has become awkward. I catch the corner of his lip moving up slightly as if holding back a laugh at my embarrassment. I stare down at the table, humiliated.

  “Ummm, my best friend owns this café. I can give you a proper introduction later, it’s not usually this crowded in here.”

  I look up to meet his eyes and have to clamp my thighs together at the rush of wetness I feel. He is just as beautiful as I remember. Very beautiful if you were to get rid of the week old, light brown stubble, the ratty ball cap pulled almost all the way down over his gorgeous green eyes, and the giant winter coat that is zipped up to his chin.

  Composing myself so I won’t look like an idiot, I decide that if he’s going to laugh at me then I can laugh at him. “What’s with the repellant outfit?”

  His lip quirks up again, and his green eyes sparkle with humor, my nipples pebble up in response. “Repellant?” he says slowly, as if he’s testing the way the word sounds. “Interesting description, but accurate in a way.” Drew winks at me as he sips his coffee.

  Thank God, he has a sense of humor. I laugh at his self-deprecation. “Obviously not repellant enough since I’m sitting here with you.”

  “Yes, but you’re only sitting here because there were no other tables free and from the looks of it,” he glances under the table, “Your shoes are probably uncomfortable. I’m apparently just shy of being repellant enough to make you suffer blisters. I must be losing my touch. I’ll have to step up my game and find a more offensive outfit next time.” Drew takes another sip of his coffee and meets my eyes for brief second before smiling and looking back down at the table.

  Now I’m really enjoying his playfulness, so different from the serious man I met a few days ago. I’m also finding his faint New England accent to be quite adorable. I can’t believe he’s here!

  “True, the comfort of my feet will always trump avoiding repellant men in coffee shops.” I can’t help but giggle at my own joke. “Plus, you did save me from freezing to death the other day, so that counts for something.”

  When Drew looks up he shakes his head as he gives me a brilliant grin, trying and failing to hold in his own laughter. Just like the last time I saw his smile, I stop laughing and suck in a breath. He is stunning. By far the most flawless man I have ever met. My memory didn’t do him justice. His smile is wide and perfect and white, and that dimple on his right cheek comes into view. His eyes light up with joy and I can see the ring of deep brown around the center of the iris. I notice that his eyes are framed by the darkest, thickest lashes I have ever seen on a man.

  I realize then that I feel something that I haven’t experienced in a while besides the obvious desire that flutters between my legs. I’ve had one night stands when I want male company, I’m not dead, but this is different. I want him physically, yes, he’s gorgeous, but I want him as in want to know him. That never happens. Ever.

  “Sorry, Syd. It’s just nuts in here today,” Leah says as she places a large Kona and an orange croissant on the table in front of me. Leah’s eyes flash over to Drew, who has gone back to ducking his head and staring at the table.

  What’s with this guy? She mouths at me.

  I give her a stern look that clearly says leave, now, I’ll tell you later.

  She takes the hint. “Well, I gotta get back behind the counter. These ladies are eating Ben alive!” Leah laughs and bounces back to the front counter.

  I nervously smooth my hair down and turn back to Drew. “That’s my friend Leah, she owns this place. Like I said, it’s never this crowded in here.” I watch Drew as he adjusts his hat even lower over his eyes and picks at his napkin with his long, dexterous fingers. Feeling awkward again, I swallow a giant gulp of coffee and decide to go for it. “So, you’re new here, like a lot of these people. What brings you here this lovely morning?”

  Drew continues fingering his napkin, destroying it bit by bit. I decide it must be a nervous habit. “I had time to kill, wanted a cup of coffee, and walked past this place. It looked good, so I popped in. It wasn’t this crowded when I got here.” He stops picking at his napkin and meets my eyes. “I didn’t slip on the ice out front and come in bleeding if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  His intriguing green eyes are holding me captive. Then they fall to look at my lips briefly before he meets my eyes again. I feel his sultry gaze penetrate all the way down to the apex of my thighs where I’m getting very uncomfortable with all of my hormones on high alert from his presence. Neither of us is willing to look away, but it doesn’t seem weird. It’s as if we’re both trying to read each other’s intentions.

  I shyly smile and drop my eyelashes as I break eye contact first. “Well, I’m glad you popped in.”

  What the hell? Why would I say that out loud?

  I feel the embarrassing heat creep up my neck as I peek back up at Drew. Unable to help myself, my eyes drop down to his mouth. Full and sultry, I start wondering what it would be like to taste it. What those lips could do between my legs … Ugh! I press my thighs together again, frustrated as my tight jeans rub against me. Those nights fantasizing about him have made me a horny mess.

  He sips his coffee and speaks, breaking my little fantasy. “I’m glad too. Maybe I’m not so repellant after all, huh?” Drew’s mouth twists up in a wicked way, as if he knows that he caught me daydreaming about him.

  “No, I don’t think you are. So …” I can’t finish my thought, Leah comes bounding over and unceremoniously plops a huge magazine onto the table with a loud thwack!

  “Leah, what are you doing?” I hold my hands up defensively and bristle up while cautiously eyeing the issue of GQ. “You
know I don’t read magazines like that.” I glance up at Drew to see his reaction. I don’t want him knowing this about me. Thankfully, he’s not paying attention. Instead, he’s looking back down at the table picking his napkin apart again.

  Interesting.

  Leah grabs a chair from a neighboring table and yanks it over, butting in on our intimate conversation. “I know Syd, I’m sorry for interrupting but I wanted to show you something and the counter is a little slower right now, so Ben can handle it alone.” She looks at Drew cautiously. “Hi I’m Leah.”

  “Drew. Nice to meet you.” He peeks from under his hat to speak, then resumes staring at the remnants of his napkin.

  Leah is stunned speechless when she sees his face. She flicks her eyes to me, then back to Drew, then tries to compose herself to respond to him. I try to communicate to Leah with my eyes. Yeah, he’s hot, I know. And yes, it’s the same Drew from the gym.

  “Yes, well, like I said, I’m … I’m sorry to intrude but I’ve, uh, I’ve been waiting for Sydney to get here to uh … show her this.”

  Ha! Leah can barely speak! It’s not just me that becomes stupid around Drew.

  I start to feel the familiar racing panic well up as she pushes the magazine toward me and hope it isn’t obvious on my face. I don’t want Drew to think I’m crazy by showing him my neuroses in their full glory, but what the hell is she doing?

  “Leah!” I whine.

  Fuck, there’d better not be anything about my parents in that thing. Hold it together, Syd.

  “I know, I know. But you have to see this, it’s why we’re so busy today, and I thought it was time you knew something.” Leah spins the magazine around to face me. “Trust me, please.” She sneaks another sideways peek at Drew, tilts her head and frowns, then focuses back on me.

  I observe Drew, who seems as bewildered as me, a blank look on his handsome face. He pulls his hat down again and shrugs.

  What the heck is with that ugly hat?

  I take a deep breath and force myself to look at the cover. I look, blink, and look again. “What? I don’t … What the …? I’m not sure I …” damn, Now I’m the one who can’t seem to form a coherent sentence. “What the hell, Leah! Adam?”

  Sure enough, the gorgeous man in a beautifully cut custom Armani suit on the cover of GQ magazine is Adam. Adam from the coffee shop Adam. Adam of the helpful creative sounding board Adam. Cute British Flirty Adam. Adam. On. GQ.

  What the fuck?

  This revelation seems to interest Drew so he leans over and stares at the magazine cover. I notice that he’s so close that I can smell him, masculine and inviting, as I try to control my racing thoughts. I also realize that my mouth is gaping open and shut like a fish, so I clench my teeth together.

  Drew sticks out a long finger and points at the photo of Adam, “You know him?”

  Is it just me or does he kind of sound pissed?

  “Yes. No. Kind of. I don’t know. I don’t understand.” How can I explain what I don’t understand myself? “He comes in here a lot. We sit together when we’re here at the same time, maybe a dozen times over the last few months. I only know him from the Coffee Bar; I’ve never seen him outside of here. And I guess I never asked enough personal questions for me to know that he would appear on the cover of freaking GQ magazine!”

  I look to Leah for help, but she just sits there, alternating between staring at me and giving odd looks to Drew. She’s not helping me at all! Bitch!

  “You had no idea that the man you have been chatting with for several months was Adam Reynolds? Grammy winning lead singer of Sphere of Irony, Adam Reynolds? That’s crazy? Everyone knows who he is,” says Drew with a look that says he thinks I’m full of shit.

  “Look, Sydney doesn’t own a TV. She doesn’t read gossip rags, or follow celebrity bullshit, okay?” Leah’s voice gets a little heated as she spits out the word ‘celebrity’ and gestures wildly at Drew. “She doesn’t care about that crap, so trust me, no, she had no clue who he was.”

  “Leah!” Thanks for making Drew think I’m a shut-in or a lonely cat lady or something! My face flames red as I turn to Drew. “I just don’t care for that whole scene, you know? I’m not interested in famous people’s lives, and everything on TV sucks so I just don’t bother with it.” I wave my hand in a way that I hope conveys that this isn’t a big deal, even though it is a big deal. Huge, actually.

  Drew stares into my eyes and studies me. It’s as though he’s trying to see straight through me and figure out if I’m being honest. Then, his mouth quirks up into a smile again as if he thinks this is funny. “Ok, I believe you. I’ve just never met anyone who wasn’t at least familiar with most famous faces, let alone held multiple conversations with one on a first name basis and still didn’t recognize them.”

  He nods and averts his gaze, continuing to speak quietly. “I think it’s great. People do spend too much time obsessing over celebrities and in front of the TV. It’s nice to know that not everyone is like that.” He leans back in his chair and resumes casually drinking his coffee from under that decrepit hat.

  Leah stares at Drew openmouthed again before turning back to me. “I wanted to show you his interview, Syd.” She takes the magazine and flips open to a page that she has folded over. “Right here, see what Adam says?” She stabs a line in what is clearly an interview, so I shove her hand away and read it out loud …

  GQ: So you’ve been in New York City for the last 3 months recording your new solo album, do you have any favorite haunts in the city?

  AR: Well, I’ve been right busy, and the studio hours are really early, but Galaxy, a nightclub in SoHo is brilliant. And there’s a neat little café, the Village Coffee Bar, in the West Village that makes the best specialty croissants you’ve ever had.

  GQ: Who knew you were a croissant lover?

  AR: I know, (laughing, he smacks his abs with his hand) I can’t eat too many, it’s too painful to sweat off later in the gym. I’m hoping to make it back to New York soon, because a friend of mine is redesigning Verve, the nightclub at the Warren Hotel, I’ve seen some of her work and she’s quite the talent. I’m keen on checking it out.

  GQ: I’m sure the Warren will send you an invite to the opening.

  AR: Hopefully. (Crosses fingers and laughs)

  “Shit.” I know I look as though I’m falling to pieces as I glance up at Leah. I’m freaking the fuck out. I feel like throwing up onto my beautiful stiletto booties.

  “I know, Syd. I know.” Leah looks back in sympathy. “But think of all the publicity the Warren is getting. If they didn’t already love you, they really love you now. This is why it’s so crowded in here today. And I know Adam just thought he was helping you and me out. He doesn’t know about you, Syd.”

  I close the magazine in disgust and throw it onto the table. Rubbing my temples, I shut my eyes in frustration. I’m losing it and don’t want to do it here. “I can’t talk about this now. Call me later?” I stand up and hug Leah.

  She picks up the GQ, gives Drew yet another funny look, “Nice to meet you, Drew,” and goes back behind the coffee bar.

  Drew jumps to his feet, suddenly awake again. “Are you leaving?” He sounds a little frantic.

  “Yes, I need to get out of here.” I grab my coat and throw it on.

  “I’m going with you, you’re upset. I can walk you home if you like.”

  “Drew, you’re being very nice considering I just acted like a total psycho. Just because you saved me once doesn’t mean you have an obligation to walk me home.” Inside, I’m feeling butterflies deep in my belly that travel down lower. As stressed as I am, I don’t want to say goodbye to Drew again.

  He puts a gentle hand on my arm and it tingles with electricity from his touch. “First of all, you’re not a psycho, well, maybe a little for sitting with a strange, pseudo-repellant man who gives really good first aid and rides home to bleeding women. Second, I know I’m not obligated to walk you home, but I don’t think you should be alone when y
ou’re upset. Plus, I just like talking to you and was hoping we could talk more.”

  He shocks me with his honesty. I study his face and he has that same look as the other day, a sincere, sweet look that I can’t bring myself to say no to. And I like talking to him. I feel different with him, safe.

  I nod and head for the door. Drew pulls down that ratty Red Sox hat again and places his hand on my lower back to guide me out. Heat flows through my body when he touches me so possessively. Even through my coat, his warmth causes my heart to speed up a little and I feel moisture building between my legs again. Between the anxiety and the racing hormones, I’m so confused. I have absolutely no idea what to do next.

  We walk out of the café and onto the packed New York sidewalk. I stand there like an idiot, not sure what to say or where to go. Thank God Drew speaks first. “So which way is your place? I’ll walk you home and we can talk if you want.” Drew looks so hopeful that I manage a smile.

  “Okay. That sounds great.” I tell him where I live. He nods and once again he puts his hand on my lower back, my nipples tighten from his touch. I shiver in pleasure, glad it’s too cold for Drew to notice. He affects me way too much.

  “So, how long have you lived in Manhattan, Sydney?”

  Great, here go the personal questions that I hate so much.

  But, this is an easy one. I’m sure I can answer a few general questions without going all nuclear crazy on him. “Twelve years, you?”

  What the hell am I doing?

  Asking him questions is a sure way to get him to expect me to answer more of his. I mentally slap myself in the forehead for my stupidity.

  “I’ve been here for ten years. Funny how the island is only thirty-three square miles but we can both live here for a decade and never meet and then run into each other twice in a week.” He glances over at me from under that God-awful hat and grins. His dimple makes that place between my thighs flutter again.

 

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