Generations: Wilder Times
Page 20
“Well yeah, of course. But it’s only a week. And we’ll still be able to talk on the phone, so it won’t really be like your gone at all.” Her voice was higher than normal, making her sound a little airhead-ish. And she was kinda boppin her head around, like she was trying to be dingy.
Ben chuckled. “Kay. How ‘bout you, Kat? The Kataract that I can’t get out of my head. Will you miss me when I’m gone?” He still liked that nickname, even though Jack had made fun of it. Because that’s really what she was doing to him: blocking his vision and making the rest of his life seem blurry. Unimportant.
That sparkle that had been on her face seconds ago was gone: she looked melancholy. “Yeah, Ben. I will. Those eight days may as well be a life sentence at Alcatraz. I don’t know how I’ll make it that long without seeing you.”
He felt like his heart just heated his blood by thirty degrees. His body was flooded with warmth. Dang. That right there—what Kat had just said—was what he’d been waiting over a month for. He’d finally gotten in. He needed to get his arms around her. Hold her. Kiss her.
But they weren’t alone.
“I think I’ll start asking Kataract more questions from now on,” he said.
That smile she gave him—the way she looked at him with both endearment and shyness—he couldn’t help himself any longer. They were on the very top of a monster-sized Ferris wheel. No one could see them. This was almost as good as being alone.
Chapter Sixteen ……
Was I right or what Eve?
You were dead on, as always, Juliet. We kept an eye on Katrina Hayes, just like you said we should. And what did we see? This:
Woo-hoo! They’re looking a little more than friendly, wouldn’t you say?
This isn’t just any ordinary kiss. Just look at this … the passion there. I’d say things are heating up between Ben Wilder and Katrina Hayes.
So tell us about this picture: where was it taken?
Well, Ben had performed a benefit concert for the Make-A-Wish Foundation. And afterwards, he and Katrina hit a few of the rides at the park. Evidently, there was some sort of problem with one of the passengers on the Ferris wheel, and Ben and Katrina got stuck at the top of the ride for several minutes. It was nothing life threatening. But evidently, they were stuck there long enough to get bored.
Oh, come on. It does not look like either of them were bored.
I know, I know. Obviously they found a way to pass the time.
Kudos to the photographer on that one. I can’t even imagine where he took this picture from. Hopefully he wasn’t walking the tightrope on a nearby power line.
Three words: high powered lens. But what do you think? Which kiss is hotter: this one or the one from the “Generations” video?
Hmm. Hard to say. This one looks more passionate. But it’s not live action. I think I’d have to say the “Generations” kiss has my vote. Let’s challenge the photographers to get something like this Ferris wheel kiss on video, then we might have a serious competition.
Really? I think I would chose the Ferris wheel kiss. It’s real. There is no way they can dismiss this as acting. Or say they are just friends. It confirms what America has been wanting to know. Ben Wilder has got himself a girlfriend!
……
Kat was really freaked out. That Ferris wheel picture had caused a frenzy. Paparazzi were literally camped out on her front lawn. It was unnerving. They would yell at her every time she came and went. “What was the kiss like?” “Was it different from the on-screen kiss?” “Are you seeing each other exclusively?”
Of course she wasn’t going to say anything to them. But it was so intimidating. Especially the way they would block her path and fire off a round of questions. They would act like she had to pay a toll by giving them a statement or they wouldn’t let her through.
The kids at school were dying over the picture as well. Everyone raised their eyebrows at her. “Hey Kat,” they would say all slyly. “How’s Ben?” People would give her thumbs up and high fives, like she’d just won the Super Bowl or something.
But even worse than all that was what happened today. A paparazzo followed her into that trendy new department store Actuelle. She was looking for something new to wear for when Ben came back. He’d already seen everything she had in her wardrobe. And it just didn’t feel right to give him repeats after he hadn’t seen her for a week. So anyway, she also needed a new sports bra. She quickly grabbed one, and while she was in that department, she saw something that caught her eye. It was something on sale, leftover from Valentine’s Day. It was hot red. It was sexy. She would never buy it. But it was fun to look.
And then she saw a flash. This guy was in her face with a camera. And she had been touching it … the red undergarment! Ahhh!
“You buying that for Ben?” the man said as he snapped another picture.
“No!” Kat quickly turned on her heel and walked away. She felt like she’d just been electrocuted. She didn’t even really know where she was walking to. Just away. Away from that awful man with the camera. And away from that red thing.
He followed her. He kept saying things to her, like, “Why don’t you try it on? We can send him a picture to see if he likes it.”
She could feel her cheeks burning. She wanted to slug the guy. She walked past the checkout, forgetting that she was clutching a sports bra. “Miss,” the checkout lady called out after Kat, “You need to pay for that here.”
Kat still wasn’t thinking about the sports bra, but she realized that this checkout lady could help. “Call security!” she practically spat. “That man is stalking me!” Kat pointed to the photographer, who had also just walked past the desk. He heard Kat call for help, and he picked up his rate of speed toward the exit. “He just took a picture of me … over in lingerie!”
Evidently, Kat said the right thing to get the clerk up in arms. She was on the phone with security without wasting another second. And then the lady actually followed the paparazzo into the parking lot. She pointed him out to security before he was able to reach his car. They detained him, and after further explanation from Kat, they ordered the man to delete the photos from his camera. Luckily for Kat, Actuelle had a strict no-photography-on-the-premise rule. The two guards were rather upset that the incident happened in the lingerie department, and that it had happened to a minor. There was a zero tolerance policy for this type of thing happening on Actuelle property.
Kat watched the man delete the photos from his camera. She also watched the guards search through his camera to make certain he didn’t have additional memory cards. That paparazzo—for being a slimy dirtbag—was at least cooperative. Apparently he would rather deal with the store guards than the cops, for which Kat was grateful. If the cops got involved, her parents would have to be informed. And she did not want that to happen.
When Kat drove home, she checked her review mirror the entire way. Which was needless, not only because it was now dark and all the car’s headlights looked the same, but also because she knew that the paparazzi would be waiting for her at home. She still couldn’t help but feeling creeped out. Someone had actually tailed her … and she had been clueless about it. Her hands were still shaking slightly when she pulled into the garage (which was actually the one perk of having the pap camped outside: earlier today, her dad had given her his parking space within the two-car garage. This way, the pap had less opportunity to harass her.) She stepped out of her car and did a few yoga moves to calm her breathing and settle her nerves. She couldn’t let her parents find out what had happened. How would she explain that racy red number that she had been eyeing? They’d send her off to a convent for sure!
Kat spent the remainder of the evening in her room and when nine o’clock rolled around, she decided it was time to call Ben. Her dad was engrossed in a basketball game, Taylor was in bed, and her mom was still at work. No one would overhear. It would be nine a.m. in Dubai, so she would probably wake Ben up. But she really couldn’t wait any longer.
There was this loud whir-whir noise. Ben explained that there was a machine grooming the sand … getting rid of all the footprints and such. It was hard for her to hear him over the noise. She kept having him repeat his sentences so she could better understand. Finally, he asked her to hold on for a sec.
When he came back, he told her he’d gone into one of the staging tents. It was quieter there. Then he asked, “What’s up?”
But it didn’t sound like a casual “What’s up?” It sounded more like a “why are you calling me?”kind of a what’s-up.
“I’m having problems … with the paparazzi,” she said, almost hesitantly. She’d hoped to break into it better than this. So she didn’t sound like she was calling to whine. “They’ve really gone crazy, over that picture. They’re camped outside. They won’t leave me alone.”
“Hmm. Welcome to my world,” Ben said. He sounded dry. Not like he was joking at all. Or like he was concerned.
“They keep asking … about us. And I just don’t know what to tell them.”
“Nothing, Kat. The only words you should ever say are ‘no comment.’ Anything else, and they’ll talk circles around you until they get you to say something. Don’t give them that chance.”
Again, he sounded dry. Maybe it was the desert air. Maybe it sucked all the humor and tenderness out of a guy. “I haven’t,” she said, trying to be reassuring. “They’re just really … insistent.”
There was no response from Ben. And when he did say something, it wasn’t to her. There was someone else in that tent he was talking to. “Just give me a sec,” he said. Followed by, “No, not now.” And then he … laughed. So it wasn’t the desert air. It was her.
When he came back on the phone he said, “Just ignore them the best you can. They’ll move on soon enough.”
Kat’s heart jumped into her throat. Why was that—that they’d move on? She couldn’t talk. Which really didn’t matter, because whoever that was in the tent was talking to him again.
Finally, he came back on. “Kat, I can’t really talk right now. Can I call you later?”
“I’m going to bed,” she said. She knew she sounded disappointed.
“Oh, right … just … hang on a sec.” There was a pause, his voice was garbled as he talked to that other person, and then another pause. “Kat? You still there?”
“Yeah.”
“I got us a few more minutes. So are you okay? Have they harassed you too much?”
The kindness was back in his voice. Maybe he was just being dry and tense because there was someone he couldn’t talk around … like Paul.
“I’m okay.” But then tears flooded her eyes and her throat got tight. She was overrun with the day’s emotions.
“You sure?” he asked. He must have heard the emotion spill from her voice.
She took a couple of deep breaths and then told him of the events at Actuelle. She had to take another deep breath before she could say the word lingerie. This was almost as bad as going to confessional.
When she finished her tale, the line was silent. She worried that she ticked him off. That she’d done something stupid. “Are you sure that he deleted the pictures?” Ben asked. He didn’t sound mad. He sounded concerned. She told him how thorough the security guards had been, and even after that, he said that he’d have his security force look into it, just to make certain. “I don’t want pictures like that to get out. We’ll make sure they don’t.”
She could hear the compassion in his voice. It made her smile. And it made her insides tingle.
“So, what exactly were you doing looking at lingerie?” he asked, his voice amused.
She cringed. What did he think of her? She had to spell it all out for him. “I was buying a sports bra. But something … else caught my eye. I was just looking … ya know, out of curiosity, ‘cause I don’t really shop in that section, I never would have bought it …” He laughed. She wanted to die. “This is so embarrassing,” she muttered. He laughed again.
Then that second voice was back. “I really have to go this time,” he said after a few seconds.
“Kay. You’ll be home this weekend, right?”
“Yeah. Sunday.”
She didn’t respond. ‘Cause she felt like crying again. She wouldn’t be seeing him Sunday.
“I’ll see you then?” he asked.
“I can’t … on Sundays.” He knew this, she’d told him before.
“But I can’t on Monday or Tuesday. I’m booked with interviews both days. And then we leave Wednesday for New York.”
“Wednesday?” She hadn’t expected it to be that soon. It was hardly like he was coming home at all.
“Don’t you think your parents could make an exception?”
Kat thought about her mom and how she had threatened to quit her job if they didn’t stop working her on Sundays. And her boss had actually hired an assistant so that she wouldn’t quit. Now she only had to make a few phone calls on Sundays, but spent the entire day at home. No, her parents wouldn’t make an exception. “I don’t think so Ben.”
He grunted. “Kat, then I won’t get to see you.”
She sighed. Blasted rules. “Maybe … I can sneak off or something. Find an excuse to leave.”
The line had silence again. Then a huge whooshing noise. Ben swore. “They turned on the fans … practicing the sandstorm … I can’t hear anything.”
The noise was so loud that she had to pull the phone away from her ear. “Kay, call me tomorrow?” She could have a plan by then: some lie to get her away from her family for a few hours on Sunday.
“Kat? Hello? Are you still there?”
“I’m still here. Ben?”
There was yelling on top of the whooshing. Maybe he was telling the crew to get that fan shut off. But then his voice came back to the phone. “I’ll text you later. Kay? Bye!”
The phone went dead. “Yeah, okay, bye,” Kat said into the blankness of her phone. “Nice talking to you.”
She felt disappointed … depressed even, for a good half-hour after the conversation. Talking to Ben half the world away wasn’t the same as talking to him when he was up on his hilltop. She was going to have to see him Sunday. There was no way she could miss it, rules or not. The depression lifted as she began to concoct a plan.
When she hadn’t heard back from him by the next night, she sent him a text:
have plan 4 Sun. My window +
sheets + 1 of ur fast cars = FREEDOM!
It took nearly fifteen minutes for him to text back. And she was in bed, supposedly sleeping. His text:
A prison break?
Response:
JK. But I do have something up my sleeve
His text:
Does it involve throat lozenges?
And then, seconds later, he sent another one:
On way 2 Italy. Change n plans.
Duno when I’ll b back.
Italy? Instead of coming home? So she didn’t need that escape plan? And she wasn’t going to see him at all? Ugh.
She quickly texted back, not wanting to seem devastated by his news. She wanted to make him laugh, because she knew he liked that about her.
On way 2 Wal-Mart. Need anything?
……
Finally. Ben was leaving Dubai. He couldn’t wait. The air suffocated him, even though it was only spring in the desert. Maybe it wasn’t so much the hot desert air, but more the ambiance of Dubai … among other things. Ben had never cared for the place. It had this hollow feeling. Like it was lacking substance. Lacking real purpose. It was a mirage of prestige, beauty, and happiness.
He’d just boarded his jet. It was still waiting inside the private hanger. The hanger’s door was open, signaling that they were ready to taxi
to the runway. Except the plane was delayed for some reason. Ben didn’t really question. They had these kind of delays all the time. Waiting for the pilot to get clearance. Or waiting for the caterer to deliver food. Could be anything.
Ben was busy browsing the net on his phone, looking for something to do Saturday night. In L.A. With Kat.
Yes, he was going to be back in time to see her. His heart felt lighter than it had since he arrived in Dubai. They’d finished with their photo shoot a day early. That meant that they could still appease Lena by taking her shopping in Italy for two days, then get back to L.A. in time to appease Ben. He really needed to see Kat. She was like a fresh mountain stream. Real. Refreshing. Rejuvenating. And he was parched. Plus he had sand in every orifice of his body. But that was another story.
He looked up from his phone in time to see a black limo pull into their hanger. “Paul,” he called to the seat ahead of him, “we expecting someone?”
Paul looked over his shoulder at Ben. He smiled mischievously. “Yes. That’s why we’ve been waiting. She’s late.”
“She?”
There was no response from Paul. He appeared to be focusing his attention out the window. The limo had stopped near the nose of the jet. The rear door to the limo opened. Two extremely long, extremely skinny legs stepped out. Ben swore, something like “blank-et-e-blank Brishell?”
Paul quickly stood and faced Ben. He was still smiling a triumphant smile. “I offered to give her a lift.”
“To Italy? Brishell needs a lift to Italy?” Ben felt like his blood had just been removed from the heat of the stovetop. Now it was just simmering, rather than boiling rapidly. That was understandable … if she was headed in the same direction as them. Why not let her ride along?
“Well, technically not Italy. Monaco.”
Okay. Close enough. She could swim the rest of the way. But no, Paul informed Ben that they would be taking Brishell to Monaco on Friday. “She has invited us to join her for the weekend. For a cruise to St. Tropez.”
“And you accepted?” Blood black on the stove again, boiling over. He could feel it pulsing in his ears. “Without asking me?” He was standing now too; he was too agitated to sit. “You’ve overstepped, Paul.” Ben glanced out the window. Brishell was still near the car. She was giving instructions to the porter about her baggage. He had only seconds until she boarded. What could he do? He couldn’t get off the plane without her seeing him. He could lock himself in the bedroom. Say he had a headache … which wouldn’t be far from the truth. His head felt like it was going to blow. But then what? What would he do once they landed in Italy? Wait until she was locked away in some hotel before he got off the plane? “Where is she staying? In Italy?” Ben asked.