Love Through LimeLight (6 page)

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I try to reach over and shut off what I can only assume is
my alarm clock but something catches on my arm. I pry my eyelids open and
immediately regret the motion. Blinding light burns my retinas and I
immediately close my eyes again.

“Now, now.” Johnni’s voice coaxes me away from the dark
abyss of sleep that I was headed for. “We can’t have any more of that. You’ve
been out of it for almost two days.”

I open my eyes slowly and realize I’m in a hospital bed.
Oddly, my brain decides to process the fact that the sheets are a soft pink
instead of the cold white I had always expected they would be. Just another
thing that Hollywood gets wrong.

I try to sit up, but Johnni has to help me before I can make
it to the position. I take a deep breath that smells heavily of the flowers
decorating the room.

“What happened?”

Johnni sits back in the chair next to my hospital bed.
Judging from the food trays and blankets surrounding him, he’s been in that
chair for a while. “Before we get into that, how about we get you some food? I
bet you’re starving.”

I start to shake my head but my stomach rumbles loud enough
for both of us to hear it. Johnni laughs and I shrug helplessly. “I guess so.”

The nurse comes in moments after she’s summoned and checks
all my vitals. “You’re doing great, Ms. Opal. I’m sure you’ll be up and out of
here as soon as possible.” She flashes me a great, friendly smile as she leaves
to dig me up some food.

“How are you feeling?” Johnni says the moment she’s gone.

I rub my hands across my eyes, trying to get a good
assessment of that exact information. “I don’t know. I feel a little fuzzy…” I
wince. The motion pulls at my shoulder and when I look down I realize that my
hospital gown is covering a thick gauze bandage.

“Do you remember what happened?” Johnni’s voice is so soft I
can barely hear it.

“Yeah. Some asshole attacked me. He bit me.”

Johnni’s hands clench into fists. “Yeah, he did. He would
have done worse too.”

I shiver, knowing that he’s right. “So, what happened? Why
didn’t he?”

“I’ll explain everything after you’ve had something to eat.
I don’t want to overtax you already.”

“Don’t worry about me. What I really want right now is to
know what happened.”

Johnni sighs and runs his hands through his hair. Luckily
for him, the nurse comes back just then with a tray of food.

“Now, don’t push yourself. If you can’t finish all of it,
that’s fine. You just do what you can,” she says warmly. She sets the tray down
in front of me and I immediately know that it’s not standard hospital food.
There’s a nice circular cut of filet mignon, grilled asparagus, a slice of
strawberry cheesecake, and a baked potato with all of the fixin’s.

I must have looked as surprised as I felt because the nurse
winks at me. “A special order, just for you. So get well.”

The aromas from the food hit my nose and it’s all I can do
to thank her before I start digging in.

Fifteen minutes later I lean back against my pillows and
shove the empty tray down toward my feet.

Johnni whistles. “Damn. Where did you put all of that,
because I know it didn’t fit into that little body of yours.”

I laugh. “You’d be surprised at how much I can pack away
when I’m motivated. That was really good.”

Johnni sits back and crosses his ankle over his knee. “I’ll
bet. Even though I didn’t eat any of it, it did me a world of good. I’m glad to
see color back in your face.”

That sobers me up quickly and I nod. “Okay, spill. Tell me
everything.”

“Okay…well… How to begin?”

I groan. “Are you going to drag this out? Because I’d really
like to get this over with.”

“Oh yeah, you’re definitely feeling better. And as demanding
as always.”

“You know it.” I give him a shaky grin, offering confidence
that I don’t feel. I’m really freaked out by all of this but I don’t want him
to know it.

“All right. The short version is simple. You have tons of
fan clubs out there. One of them is bat-shit crazy and was upset about your
announcement.”

I groan and close my eyes for a moment. I knew I had made enemies
but I didn’t know one of the Fallon cults was going to go off the deep end.

“I see you get what I’m saying. Is it too early for an ‘I
told you so’?”

“Yes. Much, much too early. But I’ll make sure to pencil it
into my schedule for next week.”

“Okay, but do it in the afternoon. You know how I like to
get in a good work out before a rub someone’s face in a bad decision.”

I groan again for good measure and Johnni waits for me to
signal for him to keep going. “Did one of the security forces finally kick in
and help me?”

Johnni’s expression turns thunderous. “No. Those useless
bastards cited ‘following orders’ when they were interviewed about why they
just stood there. They had their own targets to protect, even though no one
else was being attacked. I think they were just jealous of the attention.”

I shiver again when I remember the weird out-of-body
experience I had. I don’t want to tell Johnni about it, so I keep my mouth
shut.

Johnni doesn’t seem to notice and after a few moments, he
works himself out of his mad. He takes a deep breath. “You were actually saved
by another guy. Someone who was in the crowd and managed to fight his way
through.”

“What? A civilian saved me?”

“Yeah. But he didn’t just save you. He…”

Johnni visibly shudders and I tilt my head to the side. “What?
What’s wrong?”

“He beat the guy into a coma. I mean, there was so much
blood, and he just kept wailing on the guy.”

I swallow. The sounds I remember echo in my ears and I can’t
help but to wonder if that was what I heard.

“What happened to him?”

“The cops
questioned him but apparently the guy has some clout. They didn’t even take him
to the station, just took his statement and let him go.”

My curiosity flares up. “And what happened to him after
that?”

“Nothing, he just left. A stretcher came for you and the guy
who attacked you and the police began their questioning everyone else. But he
just left.”

I frown. What a mysterious man. “Did you get his name?”

“Yeah. I overheard the talking later. His name is Harper.
Harper Vasso.”

It might be the morphine but the moment I hear his name, I
somehow feel…lighter.

* * * * *

I want to scream my frustration. I want to rip out my hair
and punch something. I don’t do either of these things, though. Instead I keep
my voice even and my impression firm. “No. I did not welcome his advances. Any
rumors about my knowing him before the incident are just that—rumors.”

The TNS representative gives me a smirk that makes me want
to rip out her hair. Doesn’t she understand that the attacks against me are the
same as an attack against her? Against all women? If a man had been attacked in
the same way, they would be talking about how crazy the person who broke
through security and shoved him down was. Instead, they are focused on me and
what I must have done to encourage his behavior. It is disgusting.

“But there is photographic evidence that shows you and this
man in a grocery store looking rather chummy.”

I have already addressed this image. In fact, I had a press
conference to explain away the preposterous thing. “As I said before. That is a
candid photo that was taken by this group that was stalking me for months. I
was unaware of the images being taken and though it seems as if I am engaged in
conversation with this man, he simply helped me find an item on the shelf.”

The “Ah-hah!” light bulb that seems to go off in the
reporter’s head makes my eye twitch. “So, you had a conversation with him?”

I cross and uncross my legs. The pencil-skirt that I’m
wearing was specifically picked out because it is modest and long enough to
cover my knees. I can’t help but think that the effort was completely wasted.

It doesn’t matter how I dress. People see what they want to
and they assume that I am whatever they want me to be. It doesn’t really matter
what the truth is.

I could be in nun garb and they would still think I was a
slut.

“Your name was Bridgette, correct?”

She nods, waving her hand in the air like she doesn’t care
that I apparently forgot her name. But it does and that’s why I had asked her. “Well,
Bridgette, do you remember everyone you speak to in a random day? Do you
remember the names and faces of strangers who are polite enough to hold open a
door for you or pick up something you drop? That’s all this conversation was.
No more and no less.”

Bridgette at least has the sense to look embarrassed for the
stupid lines she’s trying to draw. I lean back against the seat, letting out a
subtle breath.

I don’t want them to know how rattled I’ve been by this
entire situation. I could have been seriously injured and it disgusts me in a
way I can’t put into words that all anyone seems to care about is what I was
wearing that day and who I had been talking to.

Like I deserved it.

My stomach twists as the reporter starts her closing
statement. She doesn’t seem to buy what I’ve been saying but she doesn’t say
anything else that could be seen as a put-down. When she finally releases me
from the interview she reaches out as if she wants to shake my hand but quickly
drops it.

I hope that she feels as ashamed as she should be.

I step outside the studio and take a deep breath. Spring is
in full swing and I can’t help but miss the crisp air of winter. I quickly flag
down my driver and lower my head so that he doesn’t try to make small talk
while I climb in.

The door shuts behind me and before my eyes can adjust to
the dark depths of the car, a clear voice asks. “Was it that bad?”

Tina, my administrative assistant is sitting across in the
limo cabin across from me. Her seat faces mine with several feet between us and
she’s spread a wealth of portfolios and notebooks out while she waited for me.

“No, of course not.” I mutter, even though I don’t believe
it and I’m sure she doesn’t either.

She doesn’t push any further, simply nods and goes back to a
calendar that’s open in her lap. “All right, then. Let’s get to work. You have
a two o’clock meeting with the CEO of the Purps real estate firm. Then you have
a dinner with the governor of
—
”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I don’t want to talk about
government contracts right now. The only thing I care about is an errand I had
her complete a little while ago. “Did you look into what I asked you for?”

Tina looks slightly startled that I interrupted her report.
She had already been talking about the sales figures for my latest fashion
launch. I know I’ll pay for that interruption later. Tina does not approve of
mixing business with pleasure and the task I had sent her on definitely counts
as pleasure.

“I did, Ms. Opal.” She says evenly. She never really voices
her displeasure in a way that can be measured. She’s very professional, even if
she is a couple years older than me. I hired her based on her excellent references
and have been quite pleased with her abilities. Between her and a very small
management company, my businesses and stocks are being handled with the most
expert of care. I receive daily updates and never have to ask where a project
stands.

“And?” I push, trying to keep the impatience I feel out of
my tone.

Tina shifts through several of her papers and hands me a
single legal pad page. There, in tight handwriting is Harper Vasso’s
information. He is single—has never been married—and is a very successful businessman
himself. He is in his early forties, so quite a bit older than me but I don’t
mind. He keeps himself fit, has a gym membership in good standing and makes a
few serious hiking trips every year. He likes to kayak and Scuba dive. He also
has several homes in the mountains.

Along with all of this information, Tina has provided a
sociological evaluation of what she feels he is like. He is a loner, though he isn’t
lonely. He is a little awkward but he spends his time wisely and is very
dedicated to improving himself as a person. He is the strong, silent type that
every girl dreams of. His accent is vaguely Armenian; though it is carefully
masked unless he is upset. He is the kind of man who has complete control over
everything in his life. Especially himself.

Looking down at the report makes my heart rate kick up. For
a moment I think I am going to faint. Something about this man calls to me. His
character, the pictures Tina has provided along with this portfolio and
everything else I know about him makes me want to meet him in the worst way.

I worry the bottom of my lip, trying to focus on a plan. I
want to see him but I don’t want to come on too aggressively. “Tina, did you
send him the invitation as well?”

“Of course, Ms. Opal. I also included the handwritten letter
you prepared, thanking him for his assistance last week.”

I rub my fingertips against my forehead. Last week? It feels
like three months have passed since that incident. TNS had taken to it like a
shark smelling blood in the water. Since the moment I got out of my hospital
bed, I’ve been squashing rumors and disputing faulty “evidence” of a
relationship.

Luckily, I have plenty of witnesses who saw what really
happened. My true fans had also been at the event and though they hadn’t been
much help, they had backed me at every turn, telling the world that a small
group of crazy people didn’t make all of my fans bad.

My face flushes with color when I think of the other person
doing the most to keep me out of the media’s spotlight. Harper Vasso had also
stepped up on several occasions, even though it was well known that he didn’t
like to be in front of cameras. Well, it was well-known to me. I had tried to
find out everything I could about the man who had probably saved my life.