Extremely Famous (16 page)

“Fuck!”

“No, this is bad, really bad…”

“
You bettah be prepared to unleash everything on those assholes!”

“Y
es, everything!”

“
I don’t fuckin’ care, just do what I fuckin’ say!”

“Call Sam, now!”

“I don’t fuckin’ care what time it is, get him on the mothahfuckin’ phone now!”

Holy shit!

It’s finally silent, so I’m guessing he ended the call. Should I go out there? Rubbing my eyes, I decide that I really don’t want to face Angry Drew right now. Then I hear a loud crash and fly off of the bed and down the hall.

Dear God please don’t let
him break his hand again!

I run into the living room and find Drew pacing the room like a caged tiger. Scanning the space I spot a pile of broken glass near the fireplace. Vase? Lamp? I can’t tell. Drew seems unharmed, so I’m
somewhat relieved.

“What is going on?” I ask him, staying far back from his hostility.

Drew’s head snaps up in surprise, he hadn’t even noticed me until I spoke to him. “Don’t worry about it!” he barks at me rudely.

“What the hell Drew? Don’t yell at me.” I put my hands on my hips and watch him. He looks like a
lit powder keg ready to explode.

“Don’t start with me Sydney! Not now!” he roars.

That’s twice tonight that he’s made me feel like a child. I stare him down, not caring how pissed he is. He can get over it.

“Fuck you!” I snap.

Without saying another word, I go back into the bedroom and close the door. I have no desire to be around him when he’s being such a giant dick. I feel the hot, angry tears as they fill up my eyes and streak down my cheeks.

Exhausted emotionally, I climb into bed and pull the covers up over my head so I can
silently cry. A few minutes later, the bedroom door opens, but I don’t bother to look up. I just don’t have the energy to deal with him right now.

Drew’s voice is cold and emotionless as I listen from under the covers.
“I’m going to meet Rhys for drinks.”

I don’t answer him. When the door to the suite clicks shut, I allow myself to fall to pieces, crying in big ugly heaving jags until I pass out from fatigue.

Morning comes and I wake up early. Too early. My head is pounding from the emotional night. I roll over and see Drew sleeping next to me. He looks terrible and smells like alcohol. There are shadows under his eyes and his hair is sticking up all over the place. He’s still wearing last night’s clothes in the bed.

What the hell happened with that phone call?

I carefully swing my feet over the edge of the bed and stand up, freezing in place when Drew shifts in his sleep. Something on his hand catches my eye so I walk around to his side of the bed for a better look. I gasp in horror when I see that the knuckles on his left hand are black and blue, two of them have cracked scabs on the rough skin.

Confused
and hurt, and now a little concerned, I get dressed and make some coffee in the suite’s full kitchen. Grabbing a mug, I take it out on the porch with my cellphone, hoping to call Leah before Drew wakes up. I need to talk to a girlfriend about all of this crap and she’s the only one who knows that we’re engaged.

Before I
get a chance to dial, the phone rings in my hand, startling me so badly that I spill hot coffee all over my bare leg.

“Shit!” I jump up and put the cup on the outdoor table, doing my best to wipe up the spill with my hands. The phone almost slips from my grip but I’m able to get it before it hangs up. “Hello?”

“Syd?”

“Allie?”
It’s Drew’s sister, Allie Forrester.

“Yes, what’s going on over there? Have you gone and lost your mind?” she asks.

What the hell is she talking about?

I wipe my hand
s off on my shorts and press one to my temple. Another high maintenance Forrester, I really don’t need this right now. “I need more info Allie. I just woke up and spilled coffee all over myself. I have no idea what you’re talking about and my brain is still asleep,” I complain.

She sighs
dramatically and I can picture her frowning through the phone. “Syd, you know I don’t ever bring up this crap unless I have to, and I only talk to you about it because Drew would have a fit if I asked him.”

Okay
, I think to myself.

She continues
in an overly concerned voice. “Since I’ve been dating Dex I realize just how bullshit most of this stuff is, but I love you guys so I have to know what’s going on.”

Drew’s sister has been dating Declan Foster, an up and coming actor that she met on the set of Ryker’s movie in London. When her coworkers at the hospital she’s a pharmacist at in Boston found out she was Andrew Forrester’s sister, she had to quit.
It took exactly half a day for people to try and use her to get to Drew and it became uncomfortable. Such bullshit.

I huff and pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration.
“Allie, spell it out. It’s six in the morning here and I haven’t had coffee. Please,” I beg her.

“Okay, there are tons of articles online.” She hesitates before continuing
, giving my stomach a second to twist nervously.

“You know most of whatever it is isn’t true Allie,” I caution her.

“I know, but there’s some weird stuff here and there are pictures.”

“Alright, like what?”
I rub my aching head again.

“Did you get a driving lesson
from Bruce in a $250,000 car?”

I laugh
, that’s what she’s worried about? “Yes, so what?”

“Does Drew know you did that?”

“No, but who cares? I’m old enough to drive.”

“Okay, did you hang out in a skimpy bikini with a smoking hot, half-naked Zane McNamara?”

Crap!
“Yes, but not like that!”

This shit, i
t’s never going to stop. They’re going to follow me no matter what I do or where I do it. I can’t escape the media.

“I know Syd, but there are also pictures of you at the Santa Monica Pier sleeping on the beach! Why would you do that? With no bodyguards? The photographer got right up on top of you!” Allie is getting upset now
, her fake concerned voice replaced by actual anxiety.

Great, when Drew sees that I went out without one of the guys he’s going to go ballistic. I really
can’t deal with this right now. Plus, I’m a little creeped out that someone snuck up on me at the beach. Damn, that was stupid. He could have been a crazy stalker.

“Yes, I did that,” I
admit reluctantly. “Sometimes I don’t want to be babysat Allie. You can’t blame me. I’ve been followed by bodyguards my entire life. Sometimes I want to be alone!”

“Syd
, I don’t blame you, but you’re being ridiculously stubborn! You can’t go out by yourself. It’s not safe, and you’re too recognizable. I can’t believe Drew let you go without protection.” Allie chastises me just like Leah did when I sent Bruce home from the coffee shop and insisted on walking home.

“So who cares then? I don’t give a crap if they print that.”
New Sydney doesn’t care, right? Except I do care, a lot. I fucking hate it, but I’m not going to admit my weakness to Allie, especially after she helped me try to get over it in London. Clearly, I still have a long way to go to put my shit behind me. “Anyway, I don’t need Drew’s permission to go out either!”

“It would kill him if anything else happened to you Sydney!”

She’s right, of course. I was being selfish, thinking only of myself. Drew would be devastated if I got hurt again because of something as stupid as going out alone.

“It also says you and Drew had a big argument last night in the hotel restaurant and that he was spotted out
at a bar, pissed off and drinking afterwards. They’re making it sound like you’re running all over town disregarding his feelings and hooking up with his co-star and that you drove him to drown his sorrows in alcohol.”

“You know that’s a bunch of lies
, Allie.” Except maybe the part about running all over town, disregarding his feelings about me being without a bodyguard.

“I know you guys
are engaged.” she tells me, slipping it into the conversation when I wasn’t expecting it.

Shocked and caught off guard, I can’t lie to her and deny it. S
he’s like a sister to me. “You do?”

“Drew told me his plans when we were in London. Remember when he came to my bedroom to apologize for being an ass about Dex?”

“Yes,” I tell her, recalling how I came into Allie’s room expecting them to be at each other’s throats and found them smiling and happy instead.
That’s what they were talking about?

“That’s when he asked me if I thought you would be okay with a proposal at a baseball field,” she giggles.

“Actually, the engagement is what we were arguing about last night. He wants to release an official statement about it and I want to stay under the radar and keep it out of the news.”

“That sounds just like Drew
. He always was the go big or go home kind of guy. And he’s super territorial, Syd. He’d probably piss on you if it were socially acceptable,” she snorts. “That’s why he wants everyone to know.”

She really does know him well.
I exhale deeply. “Yeah, he is. You know me though, Allie. I can’t stomach that kind of media feeding frenzy. They’ll swarm us until they suck every last bit of life out of me and I’m curled up in a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth and sucking my thumb. I can’t do that, not now. I made all that progress in London, and it’s slipping away.”

“Syd,” she says sympathetically, “They’re going to eat you alive no matter what. Just tell them on your terms and don’t let my brother bully you.”

“I won’t. God, he’s going to be so mad when he finds out about the driving and the pier though. Plus, I’m not going to be wearing my ring for a while. I don’t want any more photos to feed the media speculation.”

“Yeah, he is going to be
pretty angry,” she agrees. “But really, what were you thinking? Someone could have attacked you while you slept on the damn public beach!”

“Okay! I get it! Not my finest moment.”

“I love you Syd, now go work your magic on my stubborn brother.”

“If only he were that easy
.”

“I know, right? Bye Syd.”

“Bye Allie.”

I hang up the phone and stare out over the city. Drew is going to go through the roof when he hears what I did. Maybe he won’t see the articles and I won’t have to tell him. Yeah right, and maybe he already saw them and that’s why his hand is all fucked up.

My poor, controlling fiancé. Always stressed out from never being able to actually control anything. Probably because I’m fucked up and constantly make it more difficult for him.

Do I do it on purpose?

Allie and Leah think so. I disagree. I’m just being myself and he needs to deal with it. Honestly though, he only gets really upset and violent when something has to do with me. I’m the trigger, whether directly or indirectly, it’s always my fault.

To keep myself busy so I won’t run inside and wake Drew up
, I decide to check my email. I immediately notice that there’s one from the office.

To: Sydney Tannen

From: Bridget Williams

Sydney,

We have a client that wants a complete redesign of their corporate apartment on 6
th
Ave. in SoHo. They’ve specifically requested your services. It’s a $28 million 3 story penthouse and it’s stunning, but could use an update. They want to start ASAP so let me know if you’re available.

Bridget

I open the attachment
that she sent containing dozens of photos of the apartment. Bridget didn’t do it justice. It’s not stunning, it’s more than that. It’s beyond words. It’s 6,000 square feet of a designer and architectural lover’s wet dream. The desire to get access to that home is like an itch I need to scratch. I want it, badly and it’s only two blocks from my loft.

I type out a response asking when would be the latest date I would need to start and hit send.

Loud clanging from the kitchen lets me know that Drew is finally out of bed, so I go inside to face his wrath. I quietly walk into the small space and see him leaning over the sink, one hand braced on the edge and the other fisted against his forehead, his eyes tightly shut. He doesn’t look pissed, he looks devastated.

“Drew?” I ask from the doorway.

His head lifts slowly to look at me. He is a mess. Bloodshot eyes, wrinkled clothes and messy hair, my anger melts away and I want to comfort him but I’m not sure if he’d let me.

“Do you want
some coffee?”

He stands up straight and rubs his hands down his face. “Yeah, sure,” he says, his voice hoarse.
Jesus, he was probably yelling at Rhys all night.

I move to pour him a cup and he watches me warily, not moving or attempting to touch me. I hand him the
mug and lean on the opposite counter so I can face him.

“Thanks,” he whispers as he takes the mug from me.

“Are you okay?”

He takes a sip and thinks
a minute before answering me. “No, not really.”

“Can you tell me what’s going
on?”

Drew gives me a sad look.
“No, I can’t Sydney.”

I stand there, open-mouthed, at a loss for words. I hate when he hides shit
in the name of ‘protecting’ me.

“This is bullshit and you know it,” I snap.

I refuse to cry again so I harden my features and storm out of the room.

This is not a good idea, I know it. It’s my typical M.O. when things get bad, I run away.
As I pull my bag out of the closet, I silently convince myself that I’m not running away. There’s a job offer, a really good one that I want, and it just happens to start soon. Getting away from the press tour and the paparazzi is just a bonus.

And Drew needs less stress. Clearly, when I’m around,
it throws him into these horrific, volatile moods. He needs to stop driving himself crazy trying to protect me from everything and anything that could possibly happen.

I had been looking forward to this trip, foolishly thinking that getting away from New York would be good for us. The damn media, especially with this big movie coming out, is unavoidable.
They follow us everywhere, they always will, and when we’re together it’s a thousand times worse.

I jam my clothes into the suitcase and grab my stuff from the bathroom, dumping it on top. I flop on the bed and send a quick text to Jane, asking her to get me a flight back to New York for later today. Throwing down my phone I sigh and press the heels of my hands into my eyes.

I so don’t want to have this conversation with Drew. It’s just like Vancouver all over again. At least this time, he’ll only be gone another week or so and I’ll be at home instead of another country.

“Are you leaving?”

I shoot upright on the bed and see Drew near the door, cautiously eyeing my suitcase.