The satisfied smile on her face quickly vanished when three random men seemed to jump into her walkway out of nowhere, camera flashes blinding her so fiercely that she stopped walking altogether. It was only the feeling of Adam’s hand on the small of her back that made her heart rate drop back down to a normal level.
“Relax…” Adam said, coming up next to her. He, too, had been startled by the photographers and he was also taken off guard by the need to keep a hand on Shaun’s back. He needed to feel her next to him—to know she was okay.
Shaun shielded her eyes with her hands as the flashes intensified and the photographers shouted various demands at them from every angle. The small crowd of three cameramen had somehow tripled to nine. Where had they all come from?
“Shaun to your right!”
“Shaun straight ahead!”
“Shaun!—“
“Shaun—please! Adam how about a kiss?”
Shaun’s head snapped over her shoulder as Adam unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her. These guys already knew her name? She climbed into the car as quickly as she could, only allowing herself to relax when Adam closed it behind her.
--
“I’m seeing spots,” Shaun said, blinking wildly. She continued to clutch the large Prada box in her lap as Adam zoomed through the streets of Beverly Hills in his hurry to make it to the Gibson Amphitheatre at Universal City. She was still in awe of the fact that those strangers had known her name, and even more so that they’d all wanted a shot of her so badly. “I, literally, cannot see.”
Adam, completely unaffected, continued to race the streets. “I’m so late. Janelle’s going to flip.”
Shaun rubbed her eyes from the passenger’s seat. “Well… I told you I would have taken a cab to meet Celia.”
“Right, because I’m really going to let you pay seventy-dollars to take a cab to Sherman Oaks while a dozen paparazzi harass you? I know you think I’m some kind of irredeemable scumbag, Shaun, but I’m not the type of man to leave a woman stranded on the streets.”
“Well you’re going to have to let me pay for something eventually! I still can’t believe you bought me this dress…” She clutched the box even closer to her body. “I’ll pay you back every dollar.”
Adam’s eyes were the picture of confusion behind his sunglasses. “Are you sure you’re a model? I didn’t even know they made you anymore.”
“Made me? And what exactly am I?”
“A model who can't accept a gift,” Adam said, making a sharp turn onto the 101. “And apparently one who can’t handle a few camera flashes and shops at TJ Maxx.”
Shaun’s teeth grinded and she wanted to kick herself for being so open around him. She hadn't been able to control herself. Adam was becoming easier to be around, easier to talk to with each passing day. He was actually a really funny guy, she'd even venture to call him smart, and he had a knack for making people comfortable around him. Apparently she had become so comfortable that she'd forgotten that everything he knew about her was a lie.
She'd also forgotten that she couldn't wear her Chucks or be shy around cameras. Those were things that the real Shaun would do and Adam didn't know the real Shaun. What kind of model saw spots just because of a few camera flashes? She was the worst liar in history. In an attempt to change the subject, she cried out, “well excuse me if I’m a little uncomfortable having a man that I’m never going to have sex with--or even go on a real date with for that matter--buy me a five thousand dollar dress!”
Adam’s eyes widened and he took a deep breath. “Wow… you’re tough.”
Shaun continued to hold the box close to her.
“I saw the way you were looking at it,” he said, throwing her a look out of the corner of his eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, breathlessly. “I’ll almost be afraid to wear it, at all. If I ruin it I think I’ll die—but, again, I assure you, Adam, I will pay you back every dollar.”
“Do I look like I’m worried about you paying me back? I wanted you to have it, all right?” He was getting fed-up with her at this point. “It’s yours.”
“Well…” Shaun shook her hair out of her eyes, happy that she’d managed to steer the conversation. “Don’t do this just because you think it’ll get you into my good graces. If that’s all you wanted it would have been a lot more affordable to just volunteer at a women’s shelter or adopt a stray dog or something…” She bit her tongue when she realized she was being too much like herself again. Did fashion models care about women's shelters and stray dogs? She had no idea.
“While you do make an excellent point,” Adam smirked, “I hear ‘thank you’ works really well, too.”
Shaun’s head snapped to the driver’s seat and, as she took in Adam’s profile, a small smile crossed her face. “Thank you, Adam,” she whispered.
Adam didn’t look at her, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “You’re welcome. Jesus.”
Shaun slouched down in her seat a smidge and turned to look out of her window when she felt a blush threatening her cheeks. Why was she fighting Adam’s friendly gestures so hard? With every day that passed it was becoming harder and harder to answer that question.
--
Ten minutes later Adam had pulled to the curb of Viva, the small café where Shaun was meeting Celia for brunch. Before she could get her seatbelt off, Shaun could already see Celia hurrying towards the car from the small table she’d been waiting at on the patio.
“Thanks for the ride, Adam,” Shaun said, turning to him as she undid her seatbelt.
“Don’t forget, Gibson Amphitheatre in two hours. You remember where we’re meeting?”
“Yes,” Shaun said with a small laugh. If she wasn’t mistaken, she’d think that he sounded a little worried about her. “I know I was a little bit of a pathetic spaz back at Prada today but I do know my way around this city pretty well.”
“Fine. Whatever you say,” he said, smirking softly. “Leave the dress. I’ll take it in with me and you can change in the dressing room once you get there.”
“But I wanted to show it to Celia.”
“There are going to be a million photographers there. She’ll see it in every gossip rag tomorrow.”
“So they’re going to take pictures of me?”
“No, they’re going to take pictures of me. But wait… you’re my pseudo girlfriend, you’re on my arm. Of course they’re going to take pictures of you.”
Shaun cut her eyes at him. Sarcastic bastard.
“If it’s the safety of your dress that you’re really worried about, don’t. I’ll guard it with my life.” Adam covered his heart with his hand and looked down at his phone vibrating from the cup holder as Janelle called him for the millionth time. “And I’m officially late.”
“Okay.” Shaun blinked at him. “Well, thanks. See ya.”
“Two hours.” Adam rolled down the passenger window just as Shaun closed the door so he could give Celia a quick wave before speeding off, his wheels tearing into the tattered L.A. streets as he disappeared around a corner.
Celia and Shaun shared a look once Adam’s convertible was out of sight.
Celia’s bright eyes shone. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
--
“THE MTV AWARDS?!” Celia screamed.
Shaun chuckled over her Caesar Salad before shushing her friend from across the small café table. “Keep your voice down, Celia. My god.”
“Holy shit you are actually pulling this off.” Celia’s green eyes were wide with disbelief, the roasted chicken entrée sitting in front of her long forgotten.
“It’s nice to know that you had so much faith in me. Thanks friend.”
“I just…” Celia was at a loss for words. “The MTV Awards?” she beamed, much softer this time.
“Yes,” Shaun nodded. “He just showed up at my apartment today with two press passes and said—“
“You have to take me with you.”
Shaun blinked.
“Celia—“
“Oh my god what am I going to wear?” Celia beamed, biting her lip before gasping and jumping out of her seat. “Oh my god, what the hell are you going to wear? We have to go shopping right now.”
“Will you please calm down?” Shaun begged, reaching a hand out to Celia, who already had her purse on her shoulder and her wallet in her hand. “Sit down.”
Celia begrudgingly sat. “The show is in less than three hours—“
“I already have something to wear, okay? Adam took me to Prada and… he bought me a dress.” She covered her face with her hands. Just saying the words made her feel like she was setting the women’s movement back one hundred years.
“He bought you a dress?”
“Are you going to spend this entire lunch repeating everything I say or are we going to have an actual conversation at some point?”
“I just…” Celia sputtered. “I’m just… so proud. Yes,” she said, deciding that ‘proud’ was exactly the word she was looking for. “I’m like a proud mama.”
“Anyway,” Shaun said with a wave. “I can’t see why it would be a problem getting you into the show.”
“Of course it wouldn’t be a problem since Adam is clearly in love with you!”
“He’s not in love with me. He’s a man who knows how to keep up appearances. Why wouldn’t he buy me a dress? I’m his fake girlfriend.”
“You buy your fake girlfriend a dress from BEBE, okay? Not from god damn mother-fucking Prada,” Celia gasped. “Holy shit, he already loves you. You already have your story and it hasn’t even been a week. I just…” Tears came to Celia’s eyes and she covered her trembling mouth.
Shaun rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she said, again, trying to stifle a laugh, “tell me what’s going on in your life, Lia.”
Celia was hunched so far over the small café table that her hair was almost touching her food. “Fuck my life,” she declared, her mouth agape as she stared at Shaun in awe.
Shaun studied Celia for a few long moments before laughing out loud. She was suddenly excited at the idea of Celia being at the MTV Awards with her. She needed her best friend if she was going to make it through the night.
Five
Celia and Shaun sat in the parking lot of Universal City. Though they’d decided that it would be better if Celia didn’t accompany Shaun to the awards ceremony, they were still sitting in Celia’s car, an hour before the show—discussing what Shaun’s approach should be with Adam. The conversation had started with Celia prepping Shaun on award show etiquette and quickly evolved into a conversation about the biggest obstacle Shaun faced... figuring out how to ‘nab’ Adam in 30 days.
Celia’s tips were only making Shaun more uneasy than she already was.
“Always tell him no,” Celia began. “Never accept last minute invitations. Never stay on the phone for longer than ten minutes and always be the first one to get off the phone—always.”
Shaun looked up from the passenger’s seat where she was scribbling on the pad in her lap. “Why?”
Celia gave her a look. “Just trust me, friend. Trust me.”
“You should be the one writing this article,” Shaun said a little bitterly. “Is this the game you’ve been playing with every guy you’ve dated since middle school?”
“Men have been playing games with us women since the beginning of time. Smart women not only know how to recognize these games, but also how to use them to her advantage. It’s cliché, but men always want what they can’t have. That cliché goes double for a guy like Adam since he probably doesn’t even know the meaning of the word ‘no’ anymore. He never hears that word.”
“Janelle tells him no all the time,” Shaun said, recalling many of the conversations she’d overheard between Adam and Janelle.
“But Adam isn’t trying to sleep with Janelle. She works for him. He pays her to tell him no. Big difference.”
“He isn’t trying to sleep with me, either.”
“He bought you a thousand dollar dress. He gave you a starring role in his video when there are hundreds of girls in line who would happily murder for that job. He’s doing all kinds of shit he doesn’t have to do for you. Of course he’s trying to sleep with you… even if he doesn’t know it, yet.”
“Whatever you say.”
Celia snapped her finger. “One more thing!”
Shaun looked up from her pad. “What?”
“Never accept a last minute invitation from him. I don’t care what it is. Dinner, movies, a trip to Starbucks… anything. I don’t give a shit. If he doesn’t give you at least three days’ notice then you have plans.”
“But isn’t it supposed to be my job to be seen with him? Wouldn’t apart of that job be to be available to him at all times?”
“Not if you want him to fall for you,” Celia reminded.
“He’s a busy guy, though.”
“And you’re a busy girl.”
“No I’m not.”
“I know you’re not, but he doesn’t. Whenever he asks you out without at least three days’ notice tell him that you’re hanging out with a friend that day.”
“But he already knows that you’re my only friend.”
“He’s a man, Shaun. When you tell him that you are hanging out with a ‘friend’ he is immediately going to assume that your ‘friend’ is some guy that you’re fucking.”
Shaun cringed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Trust me. Tell him you’re hanging out with a friend. Nothing more than that. Make sure you use the word ‘friend’. Don’t say anything about it being a man or a woman… just a ‘friend’. Adam’s mind is immediately going to take that word and run with it…. Believe me. The less detail you give him the more detail he’s going to invent in his head. By the time his imagination is done he’ll be convinced that you’re out fucking some guy in the alley of a Denny’s or something.”
Shaun thought about what Celia was saying to her. For as long as they’d been friends Celia had had even the most in demand, desirable men chasing her around like love-sick dogs. Shaun had always assumed they chased Celia the way that they did because she was outrageously beautiful. Now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps Celia wasn’t just beautiful, but also a master manipulator. She decided then and there that she was done questioning Celia. It wasn’t as if she was pulling this information out of her ass. Shaun had seen it first hand, Celia knew how to get a man’s attention and keep it until she didn’t want it anymore. If she was going to listen to anyone about how to snag Adam, it was going to be her.
“One last thing,” Celia said, “Don’t ever contact him first. No calls, no texts, no nothing. I don’t care how much time has passed. Let him come to you. Always.”
“Always,” Shaun repeated.
“No matter what.”
--
Shaun sat staring at the Word document open on the screen of her computer. Her fingers lingered over her keyboard, unable to continue typing as her eyes dashed across the one sentence she’d managed to write.
How to Nab a Rock Star in 30 Days
Rule #1: Do Everything a Glamor Girl Wouldn’t
Her heart was already seizing in her chest and she hadn’t even made it past the first rule out of the ten. She and Adam had had their first outing together, The MTV Awards, just hours ago and she’d been secretly scribbling notes into her pad for the entire night. It had been a long, eventful evening and even though she’d been home for quite a while she just couldn’t sleep. She wanted to get all of her ideas down before she forgot them for good, but she couldn’t force herself to write.
She couldn’t force herself to write about the sound of Adam’s laughter when she’d asked the MTV stylist if it would be okay to wear her Chucks instead of heels with the red Prada gown.
; She couldn’t force herself to write the way Adam had secretly taken her backstage, lifted her onto a broken speaker and helped her unbuckle those very heels when she tripped over them on the way to her seat.
She couldn’t write about the way he’d slipped them off her feet and forced the stylist to fetch her Chucks from the dressing room, all the while teasing Shaun mercilessly.
She couldn’t write about him telling every journalist on the red carpet that her Chucks, “Gave the dress character,” when they inquired why in the world she was wearing them.
She couldn’t write about the way his eyes caught hers when, in the midst of being photographed, a photographer asked to see a kiss.
She couldn’t write about the way he seemed to be almost considering it. Or the way the hand he had around her waist tightened a little, pulling her closer. Asking.
She couldn’t write about the way she’d pulled back, not in a way that was apparent to anyone around them, but in a way that was definitely apparent to Adam.
She couldn’t write about the disappointment that was clear in his eyes. Or the way he seemed to spend the rest of the night trying to figure out why. How he doted on every little thing from making sure she always had something to drink to making sure her feet were comfortable in those Chucks.
She couldn’t write about the effect that an implied “no” had on a man that was so used to hearing the word “yes”.
She couldn’t write about any of it, but she knew she would eventually have to.
Her eyes jumped over the top of her laptop to where her dress was still hanging from the back of her closet door. The bottom was black and scuffed from having had so much contact with the dirty floors and street.
The phone ringing next to her scared her to death, but not nearly as much as seeing Adam’s name blaring across the screen.
“Hey,” she answered.
A long silence followed. “Hey yourself.”
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