Relatively Famous

by Heather Leigh

  Me too. Be there at 6am. I’ll come up to help with your bags

  I roll my eyes, of course he won’t let me bring my bags downstairs by myself, he’s so sweet. Overprotective and bossy, but sweet.

  OK. See you then

  I get another text immediately.

  Yes, yes you will. ;)

  I put my phone down and finish packing, singing along with Rob Thomas and the sensual sounds of Santana, smiling as I think about how “Smooth” Drew is as I go through the lyrics.

  I enjoy a quiet dinner on my own. Since I can’t cook anything without ruining it, I have a service deliver meals weekly to my place that I can grab and eat whenever I want. Tonight I decide to heat up the roast chicken with ginger, orange, and raisins. I don’t drink alone very often, but because I don’t want to be tired and cranky tomorrow, I have three good-sized glasses to make sure I get a deep night’s sleep.

  Chapter 14

  I yank open the front door and drink in the sexy sight that is Drew Forrester. I take in his stunning smile, hello dimple, and move my gaze up to be captured by his incredible green eyes.

  “Hello, Sydney.” His husky voice caresses me as he steps inside and pulls me into his arms.

  “Hello, Drew,” I respond against his mouth as he moves his lips against mine. He snakes his hands around to my backside and presses me against him as he skims his tongue along my lips, encouraging me to open for him. I melt and allow him to take me completely. He ends the kiss too soon and I protest, sucking his bottom lip between my teeth.

  Drew groans, “Sydney, as much as I want to throw you down and surround myself with you, we have to go.” He releases me from his embrace and runs a hand through his hair, clenching his jaw to control his lust. “Is this everything?” Drew asks as he bends over and throws my smaller bag over his body and picks up the huge suitcase as if it weighs nothing.

  “Yes, it’s everything.” I put on my coat and grab my purse and phone. “I’m ready.” He meets my gaze and I hesitantly smile. Nervous for this trip, for how much sharing I’ll have to do, I avert my eyes and stare at the ground as Drew opens the door.

  Get it together girl, people do this all the time.

  I follow Drew down the short hall to the elevator and can’t tear my hungry gaze from his firm backside, all of my worries gone as I watch him. After staring at his incredible ass for an eternity, I notice his clothes. He’s dressed in scuffed work boots, olive cargo pants and a navy blue fitted cotton Henley, with a deep chocolate suede field jacket over the top. No man should be allowed to look this good this early in the morning; it just doesn’t seem fair.

  As we wait for the elevator, he catches me devouring him with my eyes. “Like what you see, Miss Allen?” He smiles, that sexy dimple making another appearance. I stand on my toes and slowly lick his dimple, swirling my tongue over it. He stiffens and I hear his breath hitch.

  Hmmmm, he is just as affected by me.

  The elevator pings, intruding on our intimate moment, and I pull back reluctantly.

  I lick my lips and run my eyes up and down his body. “Why yes, Mr. Forrester, I definitely like what I see.”

  Who is this seductive woman?

  He swallows loudly and composes himself, then he gives me a look that causes me to shiver and my sex to clench in want. “Me too, Miss Allen. Me too.”

  Miraculously, we manage to make it down to the car without ripping each other’s clothes off in the elevator. Bruce loads my luggage as we duck into the back seat of the Town Car. I snuggle up to his warm body and inhale the scent that I’ve come to recognize as purely Drew. Hot, masculine, with a hint of body wash, it draws me in unconsciously like a moth to a flame. He winds an arm around my back and I relax into him as the car maneuvers through early morning traffic.

  “So, where to? JFK, Newark, La Guardia? Or is it a surprise?” I ask as I look out at the dark city and burrow deeper into his rock hard chest.

  His gentle laugh rumbles against my ear. “No, not a surprise, Sydney. We’re taking a flight out of Teterboro straight to the Gustave airport on St. Bart’s. A car will take us to my friend’s house about ten minutes away, and what we do next is up to us.”

  He looks right at me and says the last part so seductively that I feel wetness spread between my legs. I’m never going to make it four hours on a plane if he keeps saying things that make me so hot.

  Who am I kidding? Everything he says makes me hot.

  Speechless for a minute, I just stare at him blankly, captivated by his eyes. Swallowing, I manage to squeak out a question, “So we’re taking a private jet then?”

  His previously calm face looks worried. “It’s a private jet, yes. There’s not really another way to get to the island without a bunch of flight changes. It’s the easiest way… is that okay?” His tone is odd, like someone who’s afraid of scaring away a nervous animal.

  I wrinkle my brow, confused by his overly-cautious demeanor. “It’s fine,” I snap, a little exasperated by his tone. I mean, I know I’ve never gone away with a guy for a weekend, but really, does he think I’m so nervous that he can’t just speak normally to me?

  Ugh! I don’t want him to think I’m a bitch, and honestly, I am so nervous that I may run away.

  I force myself to relax and put my hand on his knee, “Really, it’s wonderful. Thank you for inviting me. I’m excited.” I give him a diminutive smile and I feel the tension leave his body as he hugs me tighter and kisses the top of my head.

  We cross over the George Washington Bridge into New Jersey and arrive at the airport a few minutes later. My mom always flies in and out of Teterboro, so I’ve been here many times. Bruce takes us past the sign indicating that the building to the left is the Aviation Hall of Fame of New Jersey, and pulls the car up to a large corrugated metal structure, coming to a stop in front of a sleek white jet.

  Wow.

  I’m impressed. It’s as large as the plane my dad owned, or maybe still owns, I have no idea. I try to keep my face neutral to avoid any questions about air travel. If I look too giddy he may ask me about my flying experience. Since I haven’t flown commercial much, I don’t want Drew to ask if I’ve ever flown on a private jet. But if I look too indifferent he may think I’m a spoiled brat who expects nothing less than a big private plane. Confused, I decide to just smile and act normal.

  Well, as normal as you can be when you’re hopping a private jet with a hot guy to an exotic location.

  Drew comes around the car and places his hand on my lower back, guiding me up the carpeted stairway and into the cabin. An attractive older woman in a lovely tailored burgundy uniform introduces herself as Gail and greets us as we board. She happily takes our coats and ushers us into the main seating area of the aircraft.

  I’m taken with the understated elegance of the interior. It’s breathtaking. The front half of the cabin has an intimate area with a gray suede couch flanked by two dark gray leather recliners assembled around a gleaming dark wood coffee table. Across the aisle are two more leather recliners facing each other with a small table in between. The same dark wood is used to form panels that create two bathrooms as well as a partition that separates the back sitting area from the front.

  The second half of the cabin has eight creamy ivory leather seats, four rows of four, with two seats on each side of the aisle. Each seat has an entertainment center built into the headrest for each guest to use and I can see a luxurious blanket placed on each chair. A shiny mahogany bar spans the back wall of the room, with doorways on either side, probably leading to a bedroom and a private study.

  “Please sit anywhere, we’ll be departing in a few minutes,” Gail says with a bright smile and she strides off to the cockpit area and leaves us alone.

  Drew stands by the plush couch and gestures for me to sit. I anxiously take my seat and he joins me, reaching over my lap to buckle my seatbelt. “Safety first, Miss Allen,” he says mischievously, just inches from my face.

  His nearness sends a jolt of electricity
through me and my nipples harden and rub against the lace of my bra. As I’m about to tilt my head in for a kiss, Bruce comes up the stairway with our luggage. He swiftly stows it in a closet near the exit, gives us a quick wave, and heads back out. I turn and look out the window at the gray winter morning and let out the breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

  God this guy affects me. I can’t even sit next to him without getting turned on. Get it together, Syd. Or maybe it’s anxiety, I’m going to have to talk to him a lot. About myself. Shit, what have I done?

  Drew shifts to pull his phone from his pocket and checks it. It must be on silent since I didn’t hear a thing. His handsome face pulls into a scowl, he types out a quick response to whatever he was reading then slides it back into his jacket.

  Do I really want to start with twenty questions before we’ve even left the ground?

  No, but I can’t just sit here and ignore the fact that whatever he saw made him unhappy, it would be rude. So I suck it up, “Everything all right?”

  He gives me his full-out, dimple-showing, panty dropping smile. “I’m with you, everything is perfect.”

  Good response, Forrester. And yes, yes it is.

  The flight is smooth and comfortable. Gail brings us a breakfast of vegetable egg-white omelets and fresh fruit, and I gasp when she appears with two huge to-go cups from the Village Coffee Bar. I stare open-mouthed at Drew. He manages to look somewhat embarrassed. It’s so adorable that I have to stop myself from pinching his cheeks.

  “I had them stop by the café this morning so we could have it with our meal,” he shrugs casually, but I can tell he’s apprehensive, waiting for my response.

  I take a big sip. “It’s perfect Drew. You’re the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. It’s a little over the top, but I can get used to over the top.” I reward him with a huge grin and take another huge mouthful of coffee. “Mmmmm.” Closing my eyes I lick my lips to savor the warmth of my favorite drink.

  When I swallow and look back at Drew, he’s staring at my mouth with a scorching heat in his eyes. I freeze mid-sip, trapped like a deer being stalked by a mountain lion. He deftly takes the cup from my hand and places it on the table in front of us, not breaking eye contact with me for even a second.

  His eyes are mesmerizing, the brown in the center of the green seems to get darker as I squirm under his heated gaze. Skimming his hand up my side, he brushes my breast with a light touch and continues up to cup my chin gently, tilting his head as he does. Pleasure gathers at my core and I suck in a breath from the brief contact with my tight nipple. I inhale to get another hit of my favorite scent, pure Drew.

  Lightly teasing my lips with his tongue, he speaks softly against my mouth. “I do tend to go big or go home, so you definitely need to get used to me acting over the top.” He pauses, as if struggling to gain control of his desire. “I cannot wait to get you alone, Sydney. You are driving me insane. I need to be inside you, soon.”

  I feel as if I might catch fire from the delicate touches and arousing words from this insanely hot, considerate man. Why have I been avoiding relationships for all this time, again?

  Oh yeah, my parents fucked me up, in front of the whole world. And I have issues, lots of them.

  Well, I’m already doing things that the old Sydney would never have done; maybe it’s time to push it a little further.

  Gail comes back into the cabin and cheerfully clears our plates. She checks to make sure we don’t need anything else and lets us know that we have about two more hours until we arrive in St. Bart’s, then she vanishes back to the front of the plane.

  Drew shifts over and flips open the armrest on his side of the couch, expertly pushing a few buttons. The faint tropical sounds of Caribbean music fill the cabin. I laugh when he sits back and faces me with a self-satisfied smirk.

  “I just wanted to prepare us properly for our vacation,” he says. “Ambience, you know.”

  “Trust me, Drew. I’m more than ready to start the weekend, but the music is a nice touch, very smooth. So tell me,” I breathe deeply and garner as much courage as I can manage when I haven’t had at least two shots of Patrón. “What kind of work do you do that allows you to take private jets to exclusive tropical islands?” I push down the panic and wait.

  He looks shocked, and then the corner of his mouth ticks up for just a second, as if he’s trying not to laugh. “I have to admit, Sydney, I didn’t really think you liked personal questions very much.”

  You sure are very direct, aren’t you Mr. Forrester?

  “I don’t, when they’re directed at me,” I say tersely. “I’m a very private person… usually. But I’m finding myself in an odd situation.”

  “What situation is that?”

  Damn, he wants me to say it out loud.

  “I ummm, well; I guess I just really want to know a little more about you. That’s rare for me.”

  He breaks out his huge smile for me and cocks an eyebrow up teasingly. “So what you’re saying is I’m special?”

  Persistent bastard!

  I roll my eyes and laugh. “You make it sound so dorky, but yes, I guess you are. So…are you going to answer my question?”

  “I freelance, so my work varies with each project I take on. I’m what you could call an … independent investor. I invest in projects, sometimes I direct them, sometimes I have a more hands-on role and sometimes I just hand over money and wait for a return on my investment. The amount of input I have over each project varies. It’s actually pretty damn complicated sometimes, but fun.”

  “Huh.” I have no idea what that means. “So you’re an investor? Like in companies?”

  “Sort of.” He pauses as if insure how to phrase his response. “I’ll hear about a money making investment, usually through a contact or a previous client, then I research it to see if it’s worth the time and money, and go from there. Sometimes it just needs funding to get whatever the client needs off of the ground, sometimes I work on every aspect including marketing. It’s a wide range of possibilities.”

  “That’s…. interesting.” I must look completely at a loss because Drew is amused by my expression.

  “It’s okay, Sydney. I know it sounds confusing. But that’s the best way I know to explain it to you right now. The downside of my work is that I travel quite a bit. Some projects are in different states, some in different countries. That’s actually why I wanted to go away with you this weekend. I have to leave for California at the end of next week, and have to be on site for five or six weeks.”

  Shit, six weeks?

  “Oh. I guess I never thought about whether or not you traveled for your job. I mean, I don’t usually worry about things like that. Crap, that’s not what I mean. I’m sorry; I’m new at this whole ‘dating’ thing. I mean, we are dating, right?” I mentally smack myself in the forehead. Damn verbal diarrhea again! “Okay, tell me if I just screwed this all up.”

  Drew leans over and kisses me sweetly, “I’d like to think we’re dating, if that’s okay with you?” He has that honest, open look on his face that I find so identifiably ‘Drew’, so I just nod in agreement. “And you haven’t screwed anything up, Sydney. I should have told you about my trip sooner, I just didn’t want to scare you away. Plus I hope to be able to come back to New York several times during the six weeks, so with any luck you’ll be willing to see me when I’m home.”

  I feel a painful lump in my throat at the thought of not seeing him regularly, but I force it down and decide to go with what feels right. “Well, you’re not wearing your hat to bring you luck, but I’m sure you don’t need it.” I smile, and then feel shy and avert my gaze. “Of course I want to see you Drew. That’s all I seem to think about these days.” I look up at him through my eyelashes to see how he reacts. He unbuckles my seat belt and pulls me over to straddle his lap.

  “Me too,” Is all he can say and he silences me, crushing his mouth to mine. We spend the last hour of the flight tasting and exploring each other
, savoring every minute. I think how grateful I am that Gail doesn’t bother us until it’s time to prepare to land. Then I worry how different everything feels with Drew and how damn screwed I am.

  Chapter 15

  Saint Barthelemy is captivating. After flying in over the thick greenery and bright turquoise sea, the plane lands on a frighteningly small runway. We are met on the tarmac by a very tan, very happy, middle-aged man who calls himself Philippe. He enthusiastically shakes our hands, seeming very impressed with Drew, then springs up the stairs to retrieve our luggage. His attitude is quite contagious, and I find myself smiling at everything the man says.

  Philippe ushers us over to a weird looking golf cart / Jeep hybrid car called a Mini Moke. I climb in the back as he drops our belongings on the front passenger seat. Drew rummages through his bag for a minute and joins me in the back seat. I burst out laughing when I see him wearing his ratty Red Sox cap.

  “What? I know you said I don’t need luck, but it can’t hurt,” he says smiling.

  Philippe is a great tour guide, pointing out local attractions and wildlife as he maneuvers the vehicle past the small colorful buildings in town and up toward the hills, where the homes become larger and further apart. We pass a salt pond, and he tells us how the island has no natural source of fresh water, describing how most homes have a rainwater collection system. He explains that they built a more modern desalination plant a few years ago to replace the old, inefficient one, to supply fresh water to the islanders. We see a few peacocks and lots of iguanas sunning on rocks and trees as the Moke climbs up and away from the sea.

  It takes less than ten minutes to arrive at the “villa”, as Philippe calls it. I call it a mansion. I haven’t even gotten my bearings in the driveway when Philippe leaps from the car and takes our bags across the white gravel driveway. Drew and I follow him up the short walk to the door of the house.

  I take in the different plants that are scattered throughout the flower beds around the villa: orchids, cacti, yuccas. I’ll have to remember to take some pictures of them later to show Leah. Philippe unlocks the door and pushes it open, allowing us to enter and then following behind. He brings our luggage through the house to the master suite.