Extremely Famous (6 page)

Daddy rubs his hands down his face and sits back in his chair. “Fine. Call them. I’ll take Sydney home and you can talk to the police. Update me later
.” He stands up to leave.

“What?” I jump off of the couch.
“I don’t want to go home! You promised me Disneyland Daddy!” I cry, throwing the magazines on the ground.

Daddy comes over to me and knee
ls down so he can see me better. “Sydney, we’ll talk in the car. We have to go home. I’ll explain to you later,” he says calmly.

“But you promised!
” I yell, tears flowing down my face.

“Syd, what’s the rule?”

“No tantrums in public.” I sadly quote my parents’ golden rule about how to act when people can see you.
‘If they can see you, they can film you Sydney’
they say to me. They don’t want me turning up in magazines acting bratty, that wouldn’t look right.

I give my Dad the silent treatment the entire ride home. We pull up to the gate and there’s a huge crowd of reporters waiting for us.

“Shit,” Daddy says as we try to get through the mass of people.

They stick their huge cameras up to the windows of the car and I’m grateful that the side windows have extra dark tint. The windshield doesn’t, however, so they know that it’s just me and Daddy in here
and they try to stand in front of the car to get their shots.

“Reid! Can you comment on the death threats levied against your daughter?”

“Sydney, are you scared?”

“Reid, is this the first death threat your daughter has received?”

“What can you tell us about the person issuing the threat?”

“Daddy?” I ask, cowering back in my seat. “Someone wants to kill me?”

“Sydney, let’s wait until we’re in the house baby. No one is going to get you,” he says in an even voice, but I can see that he’s losing it by the way his hands are holding the wheel.

A figure starts banging on my window and I scream. It’s just a guy with a video camera trying to get a shot.

“Fuck!” Daddy lets a really bad word slip out and he presses the gas, inching forward and forcing the people to get out of the way. Finally, we’re free and he speeds up the driveway, leaving the mass of people behind.

****

I wake up in Drew’s bedroom, sprawled out on the bed fully clothed and damp with sweat. Sitting up, I don’t see him anywhere. I get up and use the bathroom then stand at the sink, splashing cold water on my face.

“Sydney?” Drew’s panicked voice comes from the bedroom.

“In here.”

Drew comes flying into the bathroom and stops suddenly, almost knocking me down. It would be comical to see if it were any other day but today. “Are you okay?” he asks, afraid to get too close to me, as if he’s scared to set off another panic attack.

“I’m fine, can we go downstairs and talk? I’m starving.”

“Of co
urse, babe.” Drew takes my hand. “Let’s go.”

I sit at the giant granite island while Drew makes me a plate
of chicken Alfredo. I know he’s distressed because he doesn’t bother with his normal discussion of whether the ingredients are free range or organic. His behavior is positively depressing.

I also notice Sal, Evan
, and Steve scattered around the main floor. Drew doesn’t know that I saw the extra protection standing outside the front door as well. And I didn’t miss the giant horde of reporters and paparazzi on the sidewalk. Drew has beefed up security around here.

“Tell me what’s going on.
” I watch him put together the ingredients for the sauce, waiting for him to answer. Drew’s back tenses up and he remains silent, whisking the cream on the stove. “Drew, I want to know what the hell is happening.”

His shoulders slump and he places the spoon on the countertop, turning to face me. “Rhys and Quentin were notified by the FBI that there was a threat made.”

“Threat, you already told me that. I want specifics.” Is he going to make me drag this out of him?

“They don’t know who, but they’re looking into it.”

Okay, more vague answers. “Drew, just tell me what they said. I have a right to know!” I’m beginning to get angry at his protective bullshit. “I’m not a child.”

His face pulls into a scowl.
“Fine. They have enough evidence to believe that someone wants to harm you. They don’t know when or how.”

“That doesn’t make sense
.”

Drew turns back to the food
in a huff and resumes cooking. “I never said it made sense, Syd.” Without warning, he slams down the spoon again and whirls back to me, his face twisted with anger. “Did it make sense that some fucking psycho followed you his whole life and attacked you with a knife? You can’t rationalize crazy, Sydney!” A vein in his neck looks ready to burst from the stress of his yelling.

“You don’t think I know that!” I yell right back. “People threatened my parents all the time. Hell, I got death threats as a kid too! You probably get them all the time and just aren’t told!”

“The FBI thinks this specific one may be real,” Drew growls as he plates the pasta and slides the chicken on top. He places it in front of me and hands me a glass of wine.

“So what’s the plan then?” I ask as I eat. I notice that he doesn’t make
a plate for himself. “Aren’t you having any?”

“I’m not exactly hungry right now, Sydney
. I seem to have lost my appetite somewhere between my finding out someone wants to kill my fiancée, her arguing with me about her safety, and her losing consciousness in the car from a fucking panic attack!”

“I passed out?”
How did I not realize this?

“Yes. Y
ou hyperventilated Sydney. We couldn’t calm you down enough to help, and when you couldn’t breathe right, you passed out from lack of oxygen. Being unconscious relaxed you enough to breathe normally again.” His gorgeous mouth twists into a grimace at the memory. “I carried you upstairs so you could rest.” Drew reaches out and tenderly tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“You don’t have to thank me Sydney.” He closes his eyes for a moment, as if shaking off an errant thought. “You scared the shit out of me in the car.”

“I’m sorry.
” I glance over to make sure the guys aren’t listening. They’re watching some baseball game on Drew’s massive television in the sitting area on the far side of the kitchen. Well, they’re pretending to watch it. Even my inexperienced eye can tell that they’re periodically scoping out the room and they’re certainly close enough to hear us yelling.

“You don’t have to be sorry for freaking out either.” Drew pushes off of the island and turns to place my empty plate in the sink. “Why wouldn’t you just leave wo
rk when I asked you to Sydney?”

He really wants to go there right now?

I feel the hot rush of blood to my face before I feel the irritation at his question. “Because you didn’t ask, Drew. You demanded, and you wouldn’t tell me why,” I snap at him. I hop down from the barstool and head up two flights of stairs to the master bedroom, too furious to say anything else.

Not one to back down, I hear Drew
pounding up the stairs behind me. Pretending that I don’t know he’s following me, I cross the master bedroom and enter the enormous bathroom.

“Sydney,” he calls out, trailing
just a few steps back.

I turn on the shower and flick the switch that activates the fifteen custom body jets that line the walls. Ignoring his overpowering presence in the space, I begin to remove my clothes, one piece at a time.

The choking sound that he makes as I rid myself of my bra and panties gives me satisfaction, but I don’t let it show on my face. Instead, I step into the giant glass enclosure and let the hot jets relax my tense muscles. I grab the soap, rub my hands together and begin running the foam all over my body, perfectly aware of what it will do to Drew who is standing still, pinned in place with his eyes wide.

I’m dragging my hands up my thighs when I
turn and finally acknowledge him. “Did you need something?” I ask innocently.

He swallows hard, powerless to stop staring at me as I caress my skin with my soapy hands, brushing them over my tight nipples.

“Uh, ummm, I wanted to …” He can’t form a coherent sentence.

“Want to join me?” I fondle my breasts and gently roll my nipples into hard buds.

“I uh…” Drew shakes his head and blinks hard. He begins removing clothing, nearly tripping on his pants in his haste.

He closes the shower door and presses me back against the tile wall, crushing his mouth to mine aggressively. I wrap my arms around his neck and
lock my legs around his waist. As he thrusts into me and begins pounding me against the wall, all I can think is that for once
I win
.

I’m attempting to get some work done from Drew’s home office, my laptop and design books spread out on his desk. Jane is at her own desk on the other side of the room, running the corporate empire that is Andrew Forrester.

She was nice enough to swing by my loft this morning to get some clothes and my computer, since Drew doesn’t want me anywhere near my building. H
e has me on house arrest, which considering the swarm of reporters on the doorstep of Drew’s brownstone, is probably not a bad thing.

Leah called last night during our shower and by the time I spoke with her an hour later she was freaking out over the death threat
that was being reported by the media. I told her it was probably nothing and that I used to get them as a kid and so did my parents. That didn’t make her feel any better.

My
anger at the situation heightened to nuclear proportions when Leah told me about the embarrassing videos posted online of Drew storming into Allen Deconstruction yesterday, yelling at everyone, and the ones of him dragging me out of the office like a child.

Since news of the threat was out there and people k
now about it, I had to call my mom and tell her that it was being handled by law enforcement and that Drew had increased our security. Mom’s been through this so many times before that she took the whole thing in stride.

As usual, she offered her home in Belize as a hiding place
, which, as usual, I declined. She’s been staying in New York but traveling to L.A. more than she normally would in order to network now that she’s back working as an actress.

My d
ad called this morning, wanting to be sure that I was okay after hearing the news. His concern touched me. It felt great to have my dad back in my life looking out for me.

“Jane,” Drew calls out as he steps into the doorway of the office. He looks
mouth-wateringly gorgeous today. Since we’re staying in he’s wearing faded jeans and a tight gray T-shirt, his feet bare and his hair an adorable mess.

Jane pushes back from her chair and takes her glasses off, waiting for him to continue. “Yes Drew?”

“Can you contact Reid Tannen’s assistant?” At the mention of my dad’s name, I jerk upright in my seat and swivel to face him.

“Yes, what for?” she
asks, taking notes on a small pad.

“Let him know that we can’t make it on Thursday night. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Excuse me?” I say, jumping up from my seat.

Drew and Jane whip their heads in my direction in perfect synchronization.

“Syd, what’s wrong?” Drew asks.

“I’m going to my Dad’s premiere,” I tell him, my voice letting him know that I’m not happy with his directive.

Drew’s jaw clenches subtly under his day-old stubble. “You can’t be serious.” He steps into the office. I notice Jane quietly slip out the door.

Smart woman
.

“I
’m dead serious. I spoke to my dad already this morning and told him I was still coming.”

“Like hell you are!”
Drew’s volume is rising. He holds his hands out in front of him palms up, “And you’re not distracting me with sex this time.”

I smile
and arch an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t plan on it. I’m not arguing with you Drew, we discussed this in London. I’m not spending my life hiding out in fear. I’ll accept the bodyguards, I’ll use Bruce to drive me around, but I’m not going to avoid living my life.”

“But this…”

I interrupt him before he goes on an expletive laced rant. “No. I’m not changing my mind.” I cross the room and put my arms around his waist, hugging his warm body to mine. “You’ll be with me, the guys will be with me, hell I’ll bet the FBI will be there to see if they can catch whoever it is. I’ll be safe.” I kiss the tense muscles in his neck until he lowers his head far enough that I can reach his mouth.

“I don’t like this Syd. It goes against everything I feel.” Drew puts his hands on my back and clutches me to him.

“Well, you’ll have plenty of other things on your mind that night,” I whisper against his lips.

“If you think sex or your hot body will keep me from worrying about your safety, then you’re delusional
.”

I laugh and kiss him again. “Not sex. I just found out, Adam Reynolds will be there.”

Drew’s lips freeze against mine and he pulls back to look at me. “Nothing ever goes my way, does it?”

W
ho are you kidding Forrester?
I think to myself. You always get your way or at least I let him think he does.