Small Town Girl (9 page)

“It’s not like that,” I lied. “I just
thought I should do the right thing and tell him over the phone that I was
leaving. He’s one of my best friends.”

Hudson took a deep breath as he leaned
back in his chair, shifting uncomfortably. I never realized he had a jealous
side to him.

“You need to turn your phone off,” he
said. “FDA regulations.”

I shut my phone down and tossed it in my
bag, kicking my bag under the seat in front of me. I leaned back into the wide,
leather seat and turned to look out the window.

Luke loved me and now Hudson was pissed. It
was funny how everything could change in an instant like that, when you least
expected it.

The plane taxied to the runway as I
gripped the arm rests and prayed for the Xanax to kick in. Within seconds, we
were mid-air, going higher and higher and heading west into the great unknown.

***

We picked up our luggage from the baggage
carousel at LAX. The swarms of people around us were nothing short of
overwhelming. I’d never been around that big of a crowd before. I kept looking
around, half hoping to see another famous face, but all I saw were older men in
business suits, surfer dudes, and tall, skinny, big-breasted blondes. It was
exactly what I expected and exactly what I wasn’t prepared for.

I felt so frumpy next to all of them. I
was quite sure no one around me had a purse that cost less than $1,000 or
sunglasses that cost less than $300. Everyone was
well-dressed
and well-coifed, and the line of shiny, luxury imports outside in the pick-up
lane peppered between taxies and limousines was nothing short of intimidating.

I felt like I was on some alien planet,
and it didn’t help that Hudson was still giving me a bit of a cold shoulder.
Ever since he saw the text from Luke, his whole demeanor had changed. All I
knew was that I was already here, so I was going to give this a shot. If it
didn’t work out, then I’d worry about Luke. As far as I was concerned, Luke was
a day late and a dollar short. I had made my choice. I had boarded the plane. I
had left Rock River.

“Watch out for the vultures,” Hudson
growled.

I soon realized he was talking about the
paparazzi that hung out outside the airport. As soon as we emerged from the
building, flashing cameras and men with handheld cameras swarmed us, yelling
out so many questions and comments my head was spinning. Hudson ignored them
all like the professional he was and eventually they left us alone when they
realized they weren’t getting anything worthwhile.

He wheeled our suitcases out to long-term
parking where we quickly found his black Range Rover. The car was steaming hot
and filled my nostrils with the smell of baked leather and new car scent. I
climbed in and buckled up as he loaded our things in the back.

“No driver?” I teased him, trying to
break the awkward silence.

“Everyone drives
themselves
out here,” he said. “This isn’t New York.”

“I was teasing,” I said. I almost reached
down into my purse to pull out my phone out of habit, but I stopped myself. It
wasn’t the right time, and I needed to be present.

He aggressively pulled out of the airport
parking lot and headed straight for the freeway where we merged and spent the
next hour battling stop and go traffic. I’d never seen so many cars in my
entire life, but none of it seemed to daunt Hudson. He was used to it.

“Hudson,” I said as I finally broke the
silence an hour later. “I’m here with you, and I don’t regret this.”

He turned towards me and looked me deeply
in the eyes for a second before reluctantly reaching his hand over and resting
it in my lap.

“I won’t lie. This scares the shit out of
me,” I said with a nervous laugh. “But I’m here.”

I interlaced our fingers together and he
gave my hand a good squeeze, still saying nothing.

Hudson turned off a busy road and towards
a residential neighborhood. Signs indicated we were in Brentwood.

“Is this where you live?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I would’ve taken you as more of an ocean
kind of guy,” I said. “I figured you’d be right on the water.”

“I have another place in Malibu,” he
said. “But this is my primary residence.”

We drove under a canopy of thick,
tree lined
streets and rode past low lying houses that were
hidden behind tall, private gates. It was nothing short of beautiful and unlike
anything I’d ever seen back home in Iowa.

He turned into a narrow driveway
surrounded by thick shrubs and clicked a button near his visor. The private
gate opened to let us through and we pulled forward onto a paved driveway.

The outside of his house was covered in
white stucco and topped with a red tiled roof. Palm trees and various green
shrubs lined his property, providing the perfect amount of shade. A bubbling
fountain next to his front door served as a nice resting spot for two little
brown birds, and his grass was manicured and lush.

“Here we are,” he said as he gently
placed his Range Rover into park.

I couldn’t take my eyes off his beautiful
property. It was so simple yet so private and serene. It was exactly the kind
of place I imagined someone famous living.

I climbed out and headed back to help
with the luggage, but Hudson did it all. I didn’t have to lift a finger. He
rolled our luggage towards his garage and entered some code to open the door.
We walked in through the garage entry and stepped into the most luxurious
kitchen I’d ever laid eyes on.

Marble counter tops, staggered white
cabinets, and some sort of glass backsplash all contrasted against the dark,
Jacobean wood floors. A fresh basket of fruit sat neatly on the center of the
oversized island while a large flower arrangement took center stage on the
nearby kitchen table. I’d never seen anything like it before.

Across from his kitchen was a family room
with floor to ceiling built in shelving and an enormous flat screen TV.
Oversized furniture was arranged ever so perfectly for both conversation and
relaxation.

Behind the family room were floor to
ceiling sliding glass doors that led out to a covered patio and the most
beautiful pool.

“You okay?” Hudson asked. He had probably
noticed I was slightly in shock.

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “It’s just
all so beautiful.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he
rolled our bags down the hall.

I leaned up against the big kitchen
island and ran my fingers along the smooth, cool marble. Every vein was
perfect, and I loved how it felt under the palm of my hand. I glanced up and
looked out the picture window above the farmhouse sink. His back yard was
nothing but lush, green grass, exotic, flowering bushes, lemon trees, and
palms.

“Want to go sit outside?” Hudson asked as
he came back.

I nodded.

He walked over to an intercom along the
wall.

“Flor,” he called over the intercom.

“Yes, Mr. Smith,” a woman with a Hispanic
accent soon buzzed back.

“Can you come to the kitchen please?” he
asked.

“Be right there, Mr. Smith,” she replied.

“Flor is my house manager,” he said. “She
cooks, cleans, and does laundry.
You name it
,
she does it
. Don’t know what I’d do without her.”

A middle-aged woman with dark hair
wearing jeans and a t-shirt walked into the room holding a bucket of cleaning
supplies. Her hair was swept back into a low
pony-tail
and her t-shirt was dirty and stained with bleach.

“Cleaning day,” she said to me, as she
appeared somewhat embarrassed. “I don’t always look like this.”

“Flor meet Brynn,” he said. “Brynn, this
is Flor.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said with a
slightly cool smile. She had intense, brown eyes.

“Same here,” I said as I shook her hand.

“I met Brynn out in Iowa,” Hudson
explained. “Thought I’d show her how we live out here.”

Flor smiled and her eyes sparkled when
they met his. She turned back to me, her sparkle dulling a bit before she
muttered a forcibly cordial, “Welcome, Brynn.”

“Would you mind making us a batch of your
amazingly exquisite fresh lemonade?” Hudson asked.

“Not at all,” she said as she reached
into the bowl of fruit on the island and pulled out a few fresh lemons. “Just
give me a second.”

“We’re going to head outside for a bit,”
he said. “Just bring it out there when it’s ready.”

“Yes, Mr. Smith,” she said as she pulled
out a pitcher from the cabinet.

Flor would’ve done anything to make him
happy. He told her to jump and she seemed to ask how high. I supposed that’s
what she was paid to do though. I’d never imagined anyone to get so excited
over making someone a batch of lemonade before.

Hudson motioned towards the sliding
doors, and I followed him outside to the covered patio. Pale gray wicker chairs
with thick, linen-colored cushions lined a long, glass outdoor dining table as
the whirring and rushing of the waterfall above the pool splashed in the
background.

“This is beautiful, Hudson,” I said as I
pulled up the chair right next to him. “I might never want to leave.”

He cracked a smile, the first one I’d
seen since we’d left Des Moines, and a rush of relief washed over me.

“Here you are,” Flor said as she burst
through the doorway carrying a tray of lemonade towards us. She sat it on the
table before placing coasters in front of us and sitting icy cold glasses of
yellow, muddled liquid on top of them.

Hudson wasted no time in taking a sip.

“Aah,” he sighed as he smacked his lips.
“I’ve missed this so much, Flor.”

I could tell she was tickled as she
giggled, thanked him in Spanish, and went back inside the house.

I took a sip from my glass. Lemonade was
usually lemonade to me, but I had to admit Flor’s lemonade was nothing short of
amazing.

“Wow,” I said. “You weren’t joking. Are
those mint leaves? Basil? What is that?”

He leaned back and closed his eyes,
looking deep in thought. I wondered if he was still upset about what happened
earlier or if he was just at home in his element and this was the real Hudson
Smith.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. “With us,
I mean.”

He opened his eyes and sat straight up,
turning towards me. “Of course.”

“Okay, you’ve just been really quiet,” I
said. “Since earlier.”

He shrugged and placed his hand over
mine. “You worry too much, Brynn.”

“You’re not regretting this are you?” I
asked, eyes wide. “Bringing me here?”

He laughed. “No, not for one second.
Don’t think that. Please.”

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
“A quiet mind is a busy one. That’s what my dad always said.”

“Everything,” he sighed. “I’m leaving for
another movie shoot in a few more weeks. I’m just trying to think of all the
things I want to show you before I leave. And all the things I want to do to
you.”

He flashed his famous smile and winked at
me. He was beginning to remind me of the Hudson I’d fallen hard for back in
Iowa just one week prior.

I blushed.

“Mr. Smith,” Flor said as she slid the
door open. “I’m so sorry to interrupt.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Ava Fox is here to see you,” she said.
She bit her lip as if the news was going to be terribly received. “She’s at the
gate asking to come in.”

Hudson sat up and his face twisted
angrily. “Absolutely not.”

“That’s what I thought,” Flor said. “I’ll
tell her you’re not home.”

“No need to lie,” he said. “Tell her
she’s not welcome here. Not anymore.”

Flor hesitated, and I could tell she
didn’t want to say those things. Not to Ava Fox. Ava was one of the most
prominent and in demand A-list actresses in Hollywood. I suspected no one ever
told her “no”.

“I’m sorry,” Hudson said. “I don’t want
you to get in the middle of it. I’ll go handle it. Brynn, excuse me for a
second.”

He followed Flor back inside and returned
in less than two minutes.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Some people
just can’t take no for an answer.”

I knew from reading the tabloids that
Hudson Smith and Ava Fox had a hot and heavy
two year
fling. Every other week the tabloids were saying they were engaged or she was
pregnant or they were breaking up or something else sensational. It was good to
know at least one of those headlines were true.

I wanted to ask him what it was like
dating someone like Ava. She was gorgeous with her platinum blonde hair,
smooth, tan skin, and ocean blue eyes. Her legs were a mile long and her body
was incredible. She starred in mostly chick flicks, and on screen she seemed
like a totally girl’s girl, the kind of person I’d love to befriend in real
life. She was known for her infections laugh and her impeccable comedic timing.
She seemed like such a happy person, at least from the outside.

It was hard to swallow the fact that
Hudson had gone from dating someone like her to having any sort of interest in
someone like me.

I glanced down into my lap at what Luke
had always jokingly called my “American thighs”. I was a healthy size six,
small compared to most of the people back home, but in L.A. I may as well have
been on the heavier end of the spectrum.

“What’s wrong?” Hudson asked, noting my
silence.

“Nothing,” I said as I popped my head up
and flashed a smile. I didn’t want him to know I was feeling insecure all of a
sudden.

“You have nothing to worry about with Ava
and me,” he said. “I swear to you.”

I smiled. I had a million questions, but
I knew none of them were any of my damn business.

“She’s crazy,” he said as his eyes grew
big. “Complete and utter crazy.”

I smiled and took a sip of lemonade. “I
never would’ve guessed that. She seems so sweet in her movies.”

“She’s got everyone fooled,” he
snickered. “She had me fooled for a long time.”

“I just can’t believe you’re going from
someone like her to someone like me,” I said.

He looked up at me and shook his head.
“Brynn, you’re a breath of fresh air compared to her. I love that you’re
absolutely nothing like her. That’s my favorite thing about you.”

He leaned over and kissed me, sealing his
words with a little bit more reassurance.

***

Our second night in L.A. began with
Hudson treating me to a fancy dinner at a local eatery. I tried to talk him out
of it at first, as fancy dinners have never been my thing, but he insisted. He
said he wanted to show me off and do something special to commemorate my first
trip to L.A.

When I tried to tell him I didn’t have
anything appropriate to wear, he made a phone call and within a few hours, a
dress, jewelry, and high heels had arrived at his house. He wasn’t going to
take no for an answer.

I’ll never forget opening that Saks Fifth
Avenue box and pulling out a slinky, black dress with just the right amount of
shimmer. I’d never worn red-bottomed shoes before, and I didn’t even know how
to pronounce the designer, but I knew they were a big deal. The diamond jewels
around my neck and dangling from my ears were, of course, on loan for the
night, but they made the outfit. I felt like a princess for the first time in
my life.

I took my time getting ready and spritzed
on a bit of my perfume from home. It instantly comforted me. When Hudson
emerged from the shower and dressed up to the nines, I couldn’t help but get
goose bumps.

Date nights with guys back home usually
consisted of streaming a movie online and curling up with some microwave
popcorn in our pajamas. Every once in a while we’d go to Des Moines and eat at
a big-name chain restaurant and go to the mall, but those trips were few and
far between, especially with the rising price of gas.

“I can’t wait to walk in there with you
on my arm,” he said as he leaned down and nibbled my ear. “And after dinner,
I’ve got big plans for us.”

My stomach did somersaults as his voice
vibrated in my ear. We had both been too jet lagged the night before to do
anything beyond a goodnight kiss, and I’d been dying to get my hands on him all
day. Actually, I was dying for him to put his hands all over me. I loved being
taken by Hudson Smith.

“Just a warning,” he said as we drove to
the restaurant. “There will be paparazzi here.”

“I thought people like you avoided
paparazzi,” I said.

He laughed. “Pretty hard to avoid them in
this town. Anyway, the food is worth it. Trust me.”