Relatively Famous

by Heather Leigh

  Jesus, I’m going to combust.

  “That’s what I love about New York. You can be invisible if you want to.” God! Again! Me and my big fat mouth! What is it about this guy that is making me spill my guts to him?

  Drew grasps my arm lightly and stops me to face him. His green eyes darken as he speaks. “Sydney, you could never be invisible.” He lets go of my arm and keeps walking, leaving me open-mouthed and running to catch up to him.

  Okay, this is beyond just talking. I flat out want to jump on this guy the second we get to my loft. I haven’t felt this way in a long time, but it feels wrong to just use him for sex and kick him out like I’m used to doing. What the hell do normal people do? I realize that I’m so fucked up I haven’t got a clue as to what normal people do after meeting.

  I still haven’t figured out what to do when we walk up to my building. Richard greets us warmly. “Miss Allen, welcome home.” I stand there not knowing anything except that I don’t want to part with Drew just yet. Especially since I regretted not getting to know him better the first time we met.

  “Ummm, do you want to come in and continue talking? I mean, well …” Ugh! I sound so stupid!

  I must not have sounded as dumb as I feel, because Drew flashes me that sexy dimple and accepts my invitation. We enter the building and take the elevator up to my floor.

  “This place is great.” Drew enters my loft and checks it out.

  “Thanks. Let me take your coat and, uhhhh, hat.” I wrinkle my nose a little as I ask for it. Please let him take off that revolting hat. He doesn’t hesitate at all to hand me his coat, but he takes off the hat and tosses it onto my coffee table.

  “That’s pretty old and sweaty. I wouldn’t want you to have to touch it.” Thank God! His eyes sparkle with mischief as he runs his hands through his deep brown hair in an attempt to fix it. So he has his suspicions that I hate his hat.

  But I mean, come on! Who in their right mind would like that thing?

  I put his coat next to mine in the closet by the door and walk toward the kitchen. “Would you like a drink? I know it’s not even five o’clock, but I have no shame in indulging in a beer this early.”

  “A beer would be great, thanks, Sydney.”

  My heart speeds up and I lick my lips. Hearing my name caressed by his deep voice does things to me. Whew! I need to calm down.

  Eager to say goodbye to this anxiety and my racing pulse, I pull out a shot glass and my trusty bottle of Patrón and throw one back, putting the glass in the dishwasher and the Patrón back in the cabinet. The welcome fire burns its way down my throat and settles in my belly. I head over to the fridge and remove two bottles of Sam Adams, pop the tops off, and gather my courage to head into the living room.

  I enter the room to find Drew peering at some of the photos I have on the mantle above my fireplace. He turns to me as I hand him his beer. “You’ve been to a lot of places.” He motions with his beer bottle at the pictures of me posing in front of various European landmarks.

  Of course he picks out the few personal items in the entire loft to ask me about.

  Thank God I learned a long time ago not to put any pictures of my mom on display where visitors could see them. They would recognize her right away and the super-fan “I love celebrity can you introduce me to your mom” attitude would kill any conversation I tried to have after that.

  “Yes, I’ve traveled a bit. How about you? Ever been to Europe?” Deflection, I’ve learned, is a great way to avoid talking about yourself. Most people love discussing themselves, so steering the questions back to them could keep some people entertained for hours.

  “Yes, I’ve been to most of Europe.” He takes a long sip of his beer and sits down on the couch, eyeing me appreciatively. “I hope your arm is better.”

  Damn, he isn’t going to keep talking about himself.

  I shift on my feet. “It is. Thanks again.”

  I take a seat on the other end of the couch and down a third of my beer to squelch my nerves. Looking over at Drew, his six foot plus body gracefully slung back on the couch, he appears as comfortable as if he were in his own home. I notice that he managed to fix his hair after taking off that gross hat. It has that tousled, just fucked look that only works on guys like him. My fingers are itching to run through it, I really want to touch his hair, and his chest, and his abs, and his….shit! Control it girl!

  “I noticed that you really don’t own a TV, unless you’ve hidden it somewhere. So, why don’t you like the entertainment industry, Sydney?”

  My mouth is suddenly parched. He’s going right for the jugular. Damn, he’s perceptive. “I … I don’t feel like answering that right now, if that’s okay with you?” Crap! I look away, feeling like an idiot and gulp down another third of my beer. Liquid courage, don’t fail me now!

  I feel him shift closer to me on the couch and turn back to face him. His lips are within inches of mine. His warm breath inviting me in, making my hormones run wild. Drew puts his free hand on top of mine and draws it in close.

  “Sydney, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Maybe someday you’ll feel like you can trust me enough to tell me. I’m patient.” He squeezes my hand and gives me a kind smile.

  Holy shit, he wants there to be a someday! I’m not sure if I should be excited by that or scared to death, so I file it for further thought later. “Even though I barely know you I do feel like I can trust you, Drew, but that’s a part of me that I don’t like talking about. I’m just not able to go there. Not yet.” I give him a feeble smile and shrug my shoulders as I finish my beer.

  Hopefully, he doesn’t think I’m a total lunatic.

  I notice that his beer is gone too, so I gather both bottles and head back into the kitchen. Somehow, I can sense Drew behind me. I set the bottles in the sink and spin around to find him right there, hands on either side of me trapping me against the counter, his raw masculinity arousing me in areas I didn’t know could be aroused. I place my hands behind me on the sink for support and lean back, afraid I’ll do something stupid if I stay too close to him.

  “Are you hungry? We could order in, hang out. What do you think?” Drew’s voice is husky, almost a whisper. Holy fuck! He’s so close all I have to do is lean in slightly and our lips would touch.

  I shudder and take in a shaky breath. I need some space from him or I’ll rip his clothes off and bite him all over his delectable chest. “Sure. Why don’t you start a fire? Everything you need is in the wood box next to the fireplace. I’ll just order the food, is sushi okay?” And I’ll restart my heart and, oh yeah, change my panties since they’re now completely soaked.

  He shoves off from the counter and grins, his dimple making another sexy appearance. “Sure thing, Sydney. Sushi sounds great.” I gaze at his tight, jean-clad backside as he leaves the kitchen and walks back to the living room. He looks just as good in clothes as he did half-naked at his gym. Releasing the huge breath that I had been holding to prevent myself from combusting on the spot, I furiously attempt to control my desire by ordering food.

  Can you die from lust?

  I’m not sure, but I don’t want to find out.

  We have a great time eating sushi, drinking wine and talking until late at night. Drew managed to make a big crackling fire by the time I finished ordering dinner. I head into my bedroom and retrieve a big soft quilt from a chest at the end of my bed and spread it out on the floor by the hearth so we can eat picnic style.

  He discovers that I hate wasabi and I find out that Drew piles it on as if it were the last food on earth. We feed each other from our chopsticks and laugh when a piece flies out of my grasp and goes bouncing under the couch. We manage to finish an entire bottle of my favorite Italian Pinot Blanc and best of all; we avoid a single awkward question. It is by far the greatest date I have ever been on. Actually, it’s the only date I have ever been on that didn’t begin and end with no-strings attached, no names necessary, sex.<
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  Drew helps me clean up, then walks over to the closet and gets his coat. “I’d better be going, Sydney. It’s pretty late.” I don’t have time to be disappointed that he’s leaving because he moves so close to me that I back up against the front door and gasp. When he trails his finger down my cheek all the way to my collarbone, my skin feels scorched as though he’s burning me with an open flame.

  I’m going to burn to death from his touch, I just know it.

  Drew leans in and stops just short of kissing me. “Can I see you again?”

  I can’t take it anymore. I inhale his scent and close my eyes, waiting for our lips to meet. And … nothing. I open my eyes to see Drew still millimeters from my face. “What? Am I wrong to expect a kiss goodbye?”

  Shit, maybe I am wrong, I have no idea how this works.

  Drew inclines his head and moves his lips to my ear, “I’ll kiss you. As soon as you say that you’ll see me again.” He pulls back and I can see that his eyes mirror mine, filled with lust and longing.

  Wow. Just wow.

  “Yes, I’ll see you again Drew. Now please, kiss me.” I barely finish speaking and Drew is on me, his body pressing me to the door, his lips moving against mine sensually. He skims his tongue over my lips so I open my mouth and let him explore me fully.

  A quiet moan escapes my throat and it sends Drew into a frenzy. His hands slide around my backside and he yanks me against him, his hard length unyielding against my soft, pulsing core. His mouth moves against mine like he can’t taste enough of me, long licks of his tongue moving across mine. He breaks the kiss too soon for my liking and runs his mouth along my neck, nipping and kissing as he makes his way from my shoulder to my ear.

  “Give me your phone, Sydney,” he growls. The hunger coursing through my body makes me slow to respond with much more than a whimper. I feel a rush of cold air when he leans away from me, allowing an inch of empty space to come between us. Huh? Opening my eyes, I find him staring at me with an intensity that I haven’t felt before. “Your phone. Please.”

  Moving as little as possible, I reach over to the small table next to the door and feel for my purse. I’m able to retrieve my phone without breaking eye contact with Drew and place it his open palm. He manipulates my phone while I stand against the door catching my breath.

  Drew places my phone back on the table and I hear a quite beep from his pocket. His eyes light up in mock surprise. “Well, well.” He removes his own phone from his pocket. “You texted me and asked me to dinner tomorrow night.” Pushing several buttons I then hear my own phone beep as he slides his back into his pants. He brings his hand to my chin and tips my face back to his. “I said yes.”

  Fuck that’s sexy.

  Drew cups my cheeks in his huge hands and brushes his lips against mine. “I should go, Sydney. It was great seeing you again.” His low, seductive voice makes my body flood with need again. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  I nod and breathlessly respond. “Yes. Tomorrow.” I can’t form a coherent enough thought except to remember to move from in front of the door.

  Drew gives me his stunning, full out, panty-dropping smile. “I can’t wait.” He presses one last peck on my cheek and leaves.

  Dazed and quite sexually frustrated, I remain in the foyer and put my hand up to my swollen lips. I smile as I remember how he tasted and how his arousal felt pressed against me. Wandering back into the living room I slump down on the couch, exhausted. I close my eyes and try to burn the memories of tonight into my brain permanently; to be sure it wasn’t just a dream. I can still smell Drew on my skin.

  Sighing, I open my eyes and stand to get ready for bed when something catches my eye. I see it and laugh, I mean really laugh, because sitting on my coffee table is Drew’s hideous, filthy, Red Sox cap.

  Chapter 6

  I’m halfway through my yoga, avoiding the monsters in the next room that are Reid Tannen and Google, when my phone chirps from my nightstand. I see who is calling and scoop up the phone. “Hey Leah, I know you said you’d call me later, but 11:30 is way later than usual.”

  “I know, I know, the café was a freaking mess today! It took me all day to clean up and get ready for tomorrow after all of Adam’s fans tore the place to pieces.” She spits out the word fans so scathingly I swear I shrink back from her hostility.

  “What, so I’m not the only one not appreciative of a little publicity in GQ? I thought you’d love such adoration from a huge celebrity!” The sarcasm in my voice will most likely piss Leah off, but she kind of deserves to be poked fun of.

  Leah’s parents are quite well-known themselves, her mom is a top billed Broadway singer and her dad is a Tony Award-winning playwright. We met at our Manhattan private school when I was dumped in New York, not knowing a soul and carrying the weight of public scandal around with me. Leah didn’t give two shits about my parents or their problems, and while she isn’t celebrity adverse like I am, she doesn’t suffer from bizarre celebrity hero-worship either.

  “Ha! He’s made my life hell. I mean, I hate to sound ungrateful, really, but the next few weeks are going to suck. I’ve had to hire an extra person on the fly to get through until the wow-factor dies down a little. But I guess it’s cool that Adam likes my place so much that he name dropped it in the interview. It makes my Coffee Bar seem cool or something.”

  “About Adam…”

  “I know what you’re going to say, Sydney, and yes. Yes I knew who he was this whole time. I figured if you didn’t know then what difference did it make that he was a celebrity? You wouldn’t have given him the time of day if you knew, and you liked hanging with him, right?”

  I know Leah is trying to make a point, and what pisses me off is that she’s right. I do enjoy Adam’s company and am glad that I got to know him, something I wouldn’t have allowed if I knew he was famous.

  “I’m not mad. He is a cool guy. I guess I just hate that I could have been sucked into some kind of tabloid feeding frenzy. What if he had asked me out? I would have said yes, Leah.”

  “Yeah, Sydney … what if he asked you out? He’s just a regular guy with a weird job. You of all people should know that. It doesn’t make him a bad person, and it doesn’t make him your dad.”

  I press my hand to my forehead to push the building anxiety out of my tired head. “No Leah, it doesn’t make him my dad, and of course he’s not a bad person. What it does is it makes me a target for the media. It could let people know who I am and who my parents are, and then the feeding frenzy starts. I’m trying to deal with my issues, really I am. But the thought of letting anyone know my past, let alone someone who has tabloid reporters digging around them all of the time, is too much for me.”

  “Sydney, do you think it’s worth living your life this way? Hiding because of the possibility of a media frenzy? The more you hide, the worse it’s going to be when it happens. And yes, I said when it happens. You can’t hide forever; your dad is still in the news all the time and …”

  “Stop!” I yell. “I don’t want to hear about my dad.” I haven’t told Leah about my flirtation with Reid Tannen on Google the other night, and I’m not quite ready to let her know. God, she’d want to psychoanalyze that for hours if she knew. “I know that I was just a kid, but you can’t be naïve enough to think that there isn’t fascination as to where I went? People haven’t forgotten. I mean, my mom just up and left Hollywood with me, and we never went back. When it comes out, it’s going to be ugly. I’m not ready yet, I’m just not.”

  I can hear Leah sigh on the other end of the phone. “Sydney, the point is, is that if you like a guy; he’s going to find out who you are eventually. I just think that the huge betrayal that you’re waiting for isn’t going to come from the one you love. You are not your mom. Live your life and stop worrying about your parents’ mistakes.”

  “I’m trying. It’s just … complicated.”

  “I know, girl, I know. I just don’t want to you to wake up one day and realize you missed out on life be
cause of something that might never happen, and honestly, doesn’t matter. You can’t let tabloids dictate your life.”

  I know this. I’ve always known this. It’s just so hard to accept after seeing what happened to my parents, to me. “I’m tired, Leah. I think I’ll hit the sack.” Between Adam, GQ, Leah, Reid Tannen, Google, and Drew, I have too much to process on my own to talk about it anymore.

  “Okay, see you tomorrow. And hey, don’t think I’ve forgotten about the hottie you left the café with today. I want a full update next time I see you.”

  I smile as I think of Drew and his scruffy chin and adorable dimple, not to mention his hot body pressed against me. “Okay, bye Leah.”

  “Bye Syd.”

  Physically and mentally exhausted, I get up off the floor and throw the phone onto my bed. Today was great in some ways, meeting Drew and having an actual date and enjoying myself; but the whole “Adam is famous” thing on top of obsessing over Googling my dad the other night and Leah lecturing me to get over my parents’ divorce, made today shitty too.

  I dread sleep tonight. I know my anxiety level is somewhere around DEFCON 1, the nightmares are inevitable. I drag myself into the closet and change into a tank top and sleep shorts and flop into bed.

  ****

  “Hello class, we have a new student starting today. Miss Sydney Tannen just moved here from California, I hope everyone will welcome her kindly.” The older woman with the uptight hairstyle and glasses on a chain holds onto my arms with her cold, bony hands. “Sydney, just take the empty chair in the back row, dear.” She looks down at me and smiles a little too wide and I notice a big glob of lipstick on her front tooth.

  Gross!

  I stare at my shoes and try to ignore the whispers as I make my way down the aisle of desks. I’m used to being the “cool” girl, the one everyone wanted to know. I have no idea how to bear the burden of being the target of gossip and stares and pity. Going from popular to pariah overnight isn’t easy when you were twelve. I’m not sure I will survive this hell.