Devoted 2 : Where the Ivy Grows (16 page)

She stalks towards the stage, taking a front-row seat and tapping at her mobile phone.

‘Thanks for sticking up for me,’ I tell Leo. I sigh. ‘So much for me making good decisions.’

‘Good decisions?’

I shake my head. ‘Oh ... nothing.’

Leo leans in closer, his green eyes soft and kind. ‘You can talk to me. I’m not
Davina. I won’t sell a story on you. Have you made some bad decisions, or something?’

‘Maybe. Marc thought I shouldn’t take this part. So I wanted to show him ...’

‘Show him that he was wrong?’

‘Does that sound very childish?’

‘No. It sounds like you’re laying down some ground rules.’

‘I guess it doesn’t matter now. I’m just sorry I let
Davina down.’

Leo puts his whole arm around my shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. Her bark’s worse than her bite. She hated me at first. Now she wants me to come to her daughter’s sweet sixteen party. Anyway. I have an idea.’

‘An idea?’

‘Yep. To get
Davina all the publicity she wants.’

Leo’s arm feels nice. Comforting. I wonder what Marc would think if he could see me now. My stomach begins to churn. 

I lean forward. ‘Publicity?’

Leo’s green eyes twinkle. He really is cute, in a tanned, boy band sort of way. I’ll have to make sure Jen gets to meet him.

‘Sure,’ Leo grins. ‘You really do have the most amazing eyes. Did anyone ever tell you that?’

‘Oh.’ I look down, embarrassed. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t go all shy on me, it’s the truth. Wait there.’ Leo leaps up and heads down the aisle. ‘Hey Davina. Hey!’

‘Yes, Leo?’ Davina looks up with a sugary smile.

‘I’ve been thinking.’ Leo winks at me over
Davina’s shoulder. ‘You want publicity, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘So how about this? Sophia and I head out for a coffee. The press see us. Snap, snap, snap. The gossip mill starts turning.
Leo gets close to his leading lady
. And hey presto. We’ve got ourselves a cover story.’

Davina
drums her fingers on a wooden armrest. ‘I suppose it could work. It’s a possibility. And lord knows, I’ve had the worst luck trying to find another lead. It seems this is the time of year everyone checks into rehab. Okay, fine. Go try it. I’ve already told the press Sophia’s here.’

Leo swaggers back towards me, flashing the lovable rogue smile that makes him perfect for all those romantic comedies. ‘See? No worries.’

I chew a thumbnail. ‘Are you serious? You actually want to go out and purposely get papped?’

‘Yep. Welcome to the world of show business.’

‘But ...’ I think about Giles Getty. ‘Mightn’t it be a little dangerous?’

‘Live by the sword, die by the sword. Look at it this way, what choice do we have right now? I need a leading lady,
Davina needs publicity and you need to show Marc what you can do. Right?’

As Leo and I head into the box office, my feet feel heavy.

‘Are you sure about this?’ I ask.

‘Too late now.’ Leo points up ahead. ‘They’ve already seen us.’

I follow his finger and see a dark mob of photographers outside the box office.

‘I guess Davina must have called them when you arrived,’ says Leo. ‘You should be proud. I’m not interesting enough to get
that
many photographers in one place.’

‘Oh my god.’ I grip his arm. ‘What should we do? We can’t walk through them.’

‘Why not? All they want is a picture.’

‘I just ... maybe I’m not ready for this sort of attention. Not yet.’

‘Come on. You’ll get used to it. They’re not that bad.’

‘To you, maybe. Did you see the stories they wrote about me?’

I look at the mass of photographers, jostling each other, thrusting their cameras between shoulders and over heads, jeering and shouting.

Their words seep through the box office doors.

‘Sophia. Sophia. Is it true Marc ties you up, Sophia? Does he like to be in charge? Do you have to do as he says? Sophia, where’s Marc right now? Does Marc know you’re with Leo?’

‘Rough questions,’ Leo breathes. ‘Don’t worry. They’ll back off when we go out there.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘
Pretty sure. Only one way to find out.’

He pulls open a door
, and we drop down onto the single step outside.

The shouting is magnified, and I put my hands to my ears. It’s too much. Too intense. Everyone is surging
forward, and I want to run back inside.

I’m aware of the door closing behind us, and being jostled back and forth. I grip Leo’s arm tighter.

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ he whispers. ‘Just play along, and then we’ll go back inside.’ He slings his arm around my shoulder, and my hand drops from his arm.

I know it’s for publicity. I know that. And I know I should just play along, but it just feels wrong. The only person I want putting his arm around me is Marc.

I take a step forward, ducking out from under Leo’s arm, but I forget we’re on a step. Tumbling forward, I feel a leather jacket under my fingertips, then I’m thrown back and forth in the crowd.

Hands grab me and cameras are thrust in my face. I try to shield my eyes from the bright lights, but flash after flash leaves my vision swimming.

Before I know it, I’m lost in the crowd of photographers, and hear Leo calling my name.

‘Leo,’ I call back, but I can only see photographers. One is taller than the rest, with tapered sideburns and black hair.

Oh my god.

Giles Getty.

He’s far back in the crowd, but he’s pushing the other photographers aside, getting closer.

There’s a look of fury and triumph on his face, and he’s moving his jaw round and round in a restless, twitchy way.

A hand grips the back of my sweatshirt, and my hair catches on something – a zipper, I’m not sure, and I twist and turn, watching Getty push his way forward.

Getty holds up his camera and takes snap after snap of my terrified face. He looks amused. Excited. I hate for my face to be exposed to him like this.

I try to cover my face, but doing that throws me off balance.

My hair rips free and I lurch backwards, my feet stumbling over pavement.

I fall and shut my eyes, steeling myself to hit the ground. But it doesn’t happen. Instead, I’m lifted into the air.

I open my eyes and find myself s
taring up into the blue eyes of Marc Blackwell.

The cameras go wild, snapping and flashing, but the photographers are backing off. Keeping their distance. Something about Marc makes people obey, and the look on his face right now says get the hell away.

His blue eyes are dark and cloudy, his cheekbones taut, and his brows almost one straight line. I feel he could turn people to stone just by looking at them.

I see white sky above me, and London’s buildings as Marc carries me through the crowd. His arms feel so strong. I’m lowered down and see the shiny black of Marc’s limo.

There’s a click, then I’m carried inside the limo and placed on a leather couch. The limo door slams shut, daylight disappears and the car starts moving.

I pull myself upright, my trainers skidding over the leather seat. I see Marc sitting opposite, watching me.

‘Thank you for getting me out of there,’ I say. ‘I was ... it was scary.’

‘Would you like to tell me what the hell you were playing at?’ Marc’s clasping his hands together, his fingers and knuckles a bloodless white, the scars on his knuckles standing proud.

I sit up, dusting hair from my face, my hands shaking.

‘We ... Leo thought ... the play needed publicity.’

‘Leo thought?’ Marc’s blue eyes darken.

‘It was just a stunt. That’s all.’

‘He had his arm around you.’ I see the tendons stand out on Marc’s neck.

‘Yes, but ... I mean, no. I tried to slip away from him. That’s how we got separated.’

‘
What the hell were you doing there? At the theatre?’

‘I ... I was rehearsing.’

‘Rehearsing?’

‘Yes. I took the part.’

Marc’s neck grows tight. ‘Now do you see why it’s a bad idea? Taking this part?’

We’re back on this again. ‘I know what I just did was stupid. A mistake. But taking the part -’

‘Don’t argue with me, Sophia.’

I take in a deep breath and let it out. The motion of the car is calming me a little, but my hands are still shaking.

‘I’m not arguing.’

‘Can’t you see you’ve behaved foolishly?’

‘Yes. Just then, but ... you’ve never made a mistake?’

‘I’ve made plenty of mistakes. When I had no one to guide me.’ Marc’s face softens. ‘Let me take you back to the townhouse. Or at least Ivy College.’

‘So you can keep me like a bird in a cage?’

Marc laughs. ‘A very
safe
bird in a cage.’

I stare out of the window. London is beautiful today. We’re driving by townhouses, and there are red and orange leaves scattered all over the pavement.

I sigh. ‘What would happen, Marc, if I forgot all about this part and headed off into the sunset with you?’

‘You’d be safe.’

‘But would I be happy?’

Marc’s eyes register pain, and I know I’ve hurt him.

‘I’m not saying you don’t make me happy,’ I say. ‘But Marc, if I walk away from that part, it’ll always be ‘Marc knows best’. You’ll never respect my decisions. I’ll always be following your lead.’

‘Is that such a bad thing?’

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I want to be with you. But I want to show you that I can make my own decisions too, and they can work out just fine. Okay, I just did a stupid thing. But I’m learning. And if you won’t let me learn on my own terms, there’s no future for us.’

‘I can’t sit back and wa
tch you put yourself in danger. I want you to give up this part.’ He frowns at the passing townhouses.

‘Marc, I can’t live like that.
Doing what you tell me. I’m a person, not a toy.’

‘When have I ever given any indication that you’re a toy?’

‘It was ... something Giles Getty said.’

‘Oh,
really
. And you’d rather take advice from him than from me?’ He’s mad now, his chest swelling up.

‘I don’t want to take advice from anyone, necessarily. I want to live my own life.
I want to try out this part – it’s a great opportunity.’

‘
You’re in danger now that we’re out in the open. I need to protect you. I can’t sit back and watch you get hurt.’

‘Who says I’ll get hurt?
’

‘I do. You’ll be right in the spotlight. Exactly where Getty can get to you.’

‘No. I’ll be inside a theatre. Marc, this is a relationship. Not a classroom. It’s not like you set the rules and I follow them.’

‘
Oh no? You seem to enjoy my rules in the bedroom.’

‘That’s different.’ My cheeks r
edden. ‘If you need to be in charge of me
all
the time, it won’t work.’

‘Sophia, I need to keep you safe
. You either have to accept that or ...’

‘Or?’

‘We end.’

Oh, those two little words. They hurt me more than any words I’ve ever heard in my life.

‘We end
?’ I stammer. ‘Are you saying that if I don’t give up this part, you’ll break up with me?’

Marc turns to
stare out of the car window. I can’t see his eyes, and I think he wants it that way. ‘If we’re not together, the press will leave you alone. So I can keep you safe that way, at least.’

‘You’d really do that
? You’d really end our relationship if I don’t give up this part?’

‘It’s
the only way I can protect you.’

‘I can’t give up the part,’ I say. ‘I’ve already said yes. I’d be letting too many people down.’

‘Then we can’t be together.’ Marc doesn’t look at me.

‘What? You’re ... you don’t mean that.’

‘Yes. I do. I have to keep you safe.’

‘Stop the car,’ I say.

Marc gives a little shake of his head. ‘Not here.’

‘STOP THE CAR,’ I shout, clambering
forward and knocking on the tinted driver’s glass.

A section is pushed aside, and I see the back of Keith’s head and his fingers on the glass.

‘Everything okay back there?’

‘Please. Keith. Would you stop the car?’

‘Okay dokey. Let me pull over.’

I don’t look at Marc as the car slows to a stop.