Protecting Lulu (Global Protection Agency) (15 page)

Gideon
blushed and looked away. He’d revealed something about himself and that made
him a bit uncomfortable. Noah studied Gideon. Gideon was his mystery man. He
seldom talked about himself and almost never revealed background information.

Noah
thought,
for God’s sake
, “It’s just a TV show.”

“You
have had your TV tuned to CNN and it never wavers,” Gideon said.

Noah
simply shook his head. He flipped out his phone and called Dante. “ETA ten
minutes,” he said.

“Gotcha,”
Dante replied.

“Oh
this is so clandestine.” Lulu bent over to replace her black shoes with the
green stilettos. Her breasts looked like they were ready to pop out.

Noah
reached out thinking he needed to catch them.

She
smiled. “Don’t worry I’m taped and sewed into this gown.”

Noah
sat back. “Thank God or we’d all be getting an early Valentine’s Day present.”

“I
do like to be generous.”

Noah
pinched the bridge of his nose, a dull ache forming behind one eye.

They
fell into silence. The car pulled up to the theater and Dante stepped forward
to open the door. Light from cameras flashed as Lulu slipped out of her wrap
and then stepped out of the car.

Noah
glared at her.

She
smiled at him. “This is a movie premiere; I can’t be photographed wearing a
babushka.” She turned and waved at the sight-seers lining the red carpet
leading up to the entrance of the theater. Noah trailed in her wake.

The
paparazzi called out to her. She stopped to sign a couple autographs. Then she
stopped and posed for the photographers. Ian stood next to her smiling.

A
reporter stepped forward with a mic. Noah recognized the woman as a reporter
from an entertainment show. “Lulu, you look stunning. Who are you wearing?”

“Vera
Wang tonight.” She pushed out a foot. “Louboutin.”

The
reporter pointed at Ian. “The best accessory of all.”

“Lord
Ian Richardson is my escort.” Lulu twined her arm through Ian’s and he smiled.

Ian
held Lulu’s arm possessively. Noah felt a spurt of jealousy and worked hard to
keep it pushed to the side. Ian posed with Lulu for the camera while Noah
seethed.

Another
car pulled up to the curb. The door opened and a skinny blonde woman Noah
recognized as Bethany Forrester stepped out, followed by Lulu’s old boyfriend,
Jake O’Malley. Noah stepped forward planning to stop Jake from getting close to
Lulu, but Gideon grabbed his arm.

“No,”
Gideon whispered. “Now is not the time.”

“Lulu,”
Bethany cried. “You look fabulous.”

Noah
picked up the derisive insincerity in Bethany’s tone.

Jake
O’Malley smiled at Lulu. “You look stunning tonight, Lulu.”

“Thank
you, Jake,” Lulu smiled.

Noah
could tell from Lulu’s tone, that she didn’t give a shit what Jake thought.

Jake’s
hands lingered on Lulu’s. He bent over and kissed her on the cheek and again,
his lips lingered a bit too long. As he watched the other man, Noah wondered
what Lulu had seen in Jake other than his incredible good looks.

Bethany
trotted over to Ian her gaze moving up and down his body and her eyes widening.
“Who are you, big guy?”

Ian
smiled. “I’m Lulu’s.” He turned back to Lulu.

Bethany
smiled. Noah felt more than saw it was faked. This woman could act.

Jake
whispered in Lulu’s ear. Lulu smiled. Bethany immediately grabbed Jake’s arm
and pulled him away as another limo pulled to the curb. “Look, there’s Brad and
Angelina, Jake. Let’s go say hello.”

Lulu
waved at Bethany. “Enjoy,”

Noah
decided he needed to bump O’Malley up to the head of the list. This guy
definitely had Lulu on the brain and Noah knew exactly how Jake felt. For just
a second, Noah felt sorry for the other man.

Lulu
slipped her arm around Ian’s and started leading the way up the red carpet to
the interior of the theater with Gideon and Dante taking point. Noah drew up
the rear, his eyes moving around the crowd trying to assess any possible
threat. He’d placed extra security throughout the crowd and felt Lulu was
relatively secure, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

He
wondered how he was going to get through the rest of the evening. Lulu had
planned a cast party after the premiere at a local restaurant. Noah didn’t like
the idea of having her out in the open so exposed.

The
premier had been a rousing success. The after party had gone on until the wee
hours. No one wanted to go home. Lulu was still jazzed and couldn’t get to
sleep.

Lulu
sat at the kitchen table, digging into a red velvet cupcake. She’d set a plate
on the table across from her with its own cupcake and an empty cup waiting for
Noah to show up. The coffee maker gurgled behind her filling the kitchen with
the rich aroma of her favorite blend. They’d gotten into the habit of a
midnight snack. Lulu was starting to enjoy meeting him so late at night with no
one around.

Noah
was yawning as he walked into the kitchen. “Sorry,” he said as he reached for
the coffee carafe and walked to the table. He poured coffee into the cup and
set the carafe back on the heating element of the coffee maker.

“Tonight
was a night well done,” she said. “I can sit back and enjoy a red velvet
cupcake and savor the evening, even after my near brush with death.”

“How
are you feeling about that?” He peeled the paper from the cupcake and bit into
it.

“I’m
feeling rather foolish to think there is actually someone out there who wants
to hurt me. I can’t figure out what I did.”

“I
can give you a list of reasons why people don’t like you.”

“Do
I really want to know?”

“You’re
a grownup. You can handle it,” he said after a long sip of coffee.

“Hit
me right between the eyes.”

“You’re
rich. I know you work hard, but you inherited the money.”

“Contrary
to popular belief, keeping money is almost as hard as making it.” She took
another bite of her cupcake.

“You’re
beautiful,” he said.

Her
eyebrows rose. “There are thousands of beautiful women out there. Beauty is
nothing special.”

“I’m
not talking about the outside. I’m talking about what goes on inside you. You’re
generous, compassionate, self-confident, fun to be around and very down to
earth. You’re a regular person, only better dressed.”

Lulu
was genuinely touched by his statement. She could feel a blush starting on her
face. She couldn’t remember the last time a man made her blush.

“Now
that I’ve said all that, why did you have to wear that dress tonight?”

“What
was wrong with it?”

“You
didn’t need that dress to get attention.”

“Tomorrow
that dress and I are going to be on websites, TV shows, and newspapers all over
the world. In a week, I’ll be in all the weekly magazines, even the ones I
don’t own. My film is going to be mentioned along with the photo. People are
going to talk about that dress for days along with my film. All of the buzz
about my first film cost me the price of that sexy little number. Bottom line,
that dress was cost effective advertising. Which is almost as good as how hot I
looked in it.”

“I
don’t want that to make sense to me.”

Surprise
flooded her. “You really don’t understand what being a celebrity is all about.”

“I’m
not sure I want to.”

“You
work in a profession where you are judged by how well you do your job.”

“Most
of the world is.”

She
paused for a moment thinking how to phrase her words. “I’m judged not only by
what I do, or how well I do it, but how good I look doing it. Celebrity is a
contact sport. Very few people in our business are judged solely by their work
alone, especially women. They have to be on a stage every time they walk out of
their house. How many times have you seen a photo of a woman not looking her
best? She’s lambasted for leaving the gym looking sweaty or in some cases just
being human. Actresses are taken to task for being anorexic and at the same
time accused of being fat.”

“You
were a model. You used to be one of those women.”

She
felt sadness. “I have some karma to make up for. How many children have I
harmed by falling into that trap and perpetuating it?”

“What
do you mean?”

“I
spent almost seven years modeling. I did everything models did to maintain my
perfect size. I drank the Kool-Aid. At one point if a doctor told me putting
uranium on my face would stop aging and keep me a size four I would have been
out there digging it myself and so would have a lot of other women.” She ran
her finger across the top of her cupcake and then licked the icing off her

“Why
did you quit?”

“Even
at my thinnest, I was told I was fat. I had my girls,” she touched her breasts,
“and my rear end, but this one designer I was working for told me I had to lose
another ten pounds. I only ate once a day trying to maintain the illusion that
I was beautiful, but I looked terrible. I looked so bad that even I didn’t
recognize myself. One day he pats me on the butt and says, ‘let me fix you a
little something to help.’ He came back with rubber tubing and a syringe. He
was going to shoot me up with heroin because that’s how all the top models keep
thin. He tied the tubing around my arm and was getting ready to inject me when
I freaked out. I fulfilled the contract I still had for another designer for
Fashion Week and then I left. I hopped the first plane back to New York and
spent the next three weeks with my Aunt Julia crying my eyes out.”

“Why
did you want to be a model?”

“I
probably could have answered you fifteen years ago, but not anymore. Whatever
drove me then isn’t there anymore. God, I sound so shallow.”

“You
have substance,” Noah replied.

She
felt a warmth flood her at the statement. Yes, she knew she had substance, but
she was also a realist. She had great fans. They liked her the way she was
because she was honest. “I didn’t turn my back on the modeling world, it just
wasn’t for me. Damaging myself wasn’t worth the price. I knew I had other
things to offer. I went to college and somehow I ended up in a psych class with
a great professor and I’d found my calling.” In that class she’d learned that she
could be more than a pretty face. “I was unhappy. I don’t know why, but that
professor helped me rediscover myself.”

“What
did you find out about yourself?”

“I
needed to like who I was, the way I was. And now I feel beautiful the way I am
and don’t see myself as a product with nothing to offer, but as a person with
my own needs and desires.”

“One
of the criticisms I’ve read about you is that your actions are interpreted as
people should be overweight.”

She
smiled at him. How often had she heard that? “I tell people it’s all right to be
happy no matter what you look like. I nearly killed myself to be thin. I have
never told anyone to abuse their health. I’ve been there. Even with all my
great medical insurance and great doctors, I needed several years to recover my
health. I want women to feel good in their skin no matter what. Oh my goodness,
I feel like I’m taping a show and I’m the guest being grilled by you. And
you’re dragging things out of me that I’ve already dealt with while I was in
therapy.”

He
simply grinned at her. “Dr. Pamela Klein.”

“You
did check me out, didn’t you?”

“I
know twice a year you fly to Paris to order bras and panties from Carney
Gilson.”

“I’m
impressed. You really did your homework. So when do I find out about Noah
Callahan?”

“I
don’t want you to think I’m easy,”

“How
deep and dark can your past be?” She wanted to probe him more deeply, but he
seemed to draw away emotionally. His eyes grew distant and cool.

“Nothing
interesting in my past that you need to know about.”

“Inquiring
minds want to know.” She drained the last bit of her coffee.

“Inquiring
minds will have to wait. I didn’t get where I am by not being patient. I have
something else in mind.”

“Really?”
she said.

He
rose from his side of the table and skirted it. He brought her to her feet and
then kissed her. His mouth was soft and smooth on hers and she leaned into the
kiss.

Lulu
was on fire. He splayed his hands along against the sides of her breasts, his
thumbs gently caressing her nipples through the thin fabric of her silk robe.

“You
have the most beautiful mouth,” she said pulling back slightly.

His
eyes widened. She traced a finger around his lips. She kissed him again and
suddenly he drew back.