Aftershock: A Charity McAdams Novella (9 page)

Inside I am still a little shaky from the whole mess but I don’t want Brandon to feel worse than he already appears to. “I’m ok. It just caught me off guard a little.”

He stares at me for a moment. “Really? You just got mauled by paparazzi. It’s ok to be pissed off about it.”

I shrug. “It’s alright, really, I’m fine. Let’s just enjoy the night.”

“Alright,” he says, continuing to watch me for a moment longer before he flips open the menu and starts to look over his options.

I take the cue and start perusing my own menu, trying not to gasp at the prices that seem to get higher and higher as I keep scanning down the list. There are appetizers that cost more than the shoes I’m wearing! Granted, they were purchased on clearance a few years back at an outlet store. But still…this is insane!

We enjoy our (incredibly overpriced) dinner and linger over a shared dessert before we decide to try and brave the storm waiting just outside the front doors. The crowd seems to have dispersed slightly since the time we arrived but there are still pictures taken and a few fans even ask for autographs. Brandon is silent as he guides me to the car. Once I am safely tucked inside he does stop and sign a few things and thanks his fans before getting in next to me.

In the backseat I slip off my shoes and pull my legs up on the seat and snuggle into Brandon and release a slow exhale.

“Thanks for being so great tonight, that was not an easy situation,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“Part of the life right?” I say, offering him a smile, hoping I look more confident than I feel about the whole thing.

Chapter Fifteen

“You’re famous!” Ashley squeals into my ear.

“Correction, Brandon is famous, I was just standing next to him,” I say, switching the call to speakerphone and laying the phone down on the end table next to the couch.

Ashley had called to tell me that one of the entertainment news shows had a story about Brandon and his “mystery brunette” with pictures of us leaving the restaurant last night.

I locate the remote and flip on the TV but by the time I find the right channel, it’s too late, the spot is already over and the hosts have moved on to the next bit of juicy Hollywood gossip. I flick the TV off again and settle onto the couch. In some ways I’m glad to have missed it. I’m not sure I’m fully ready to face the reality of seeing my picture splashed all over the screen.

“But you’re with him! You’re part of this world now, all the glitz and glamour!” She counters, her voice still high pitched with excitement.

“Ash, they don’t even know my name. I’m not a part of this life, I’m just caught in the crossfire,” I say with a sigh.

Sometimes I think it should have been flip-flopped. Ashley should be the one dating a celebrity and living in L.A. She would thrive in a situation like this. She loves fashion and would revel in all the drama and excitement the Hollywood life has to offer. She’s also scrappy and tough enough to deal with the pressure and attention.

“Well I could call and offer an anonymous tip if you’d prefer! I could be the inside source that feeds them all the details, at least you know I’d tell it right,” she jokes.

“Yeah,” I reply, halfway listening, halfway still caught up in my own thoughts as I stare at the blank TV screen.

“Sheesh, I was only kidding,” she says. “What’s the matter with you today?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night,” I answer, which is partially true, it had taken me much longer than normal to fall asleep and even then it was a restless sleep, filled with anxiety riddled dreams.

“Ok,” she says and I feel a twinge of guilt at the disappointment in her voice.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I promise.

We say goodbye and hang up. I toss my phone onto the couch next to me and exhale slowly. I rub my temples, instantly regretting the conversation with Ashley. The last thing I want to do is argue with her, especially when I know she is just excited for me and doing her best to help me see the bright side of a difficult situation.

Truth be told, it just makes me want to hop on the next plane back to Seattle and go back to the way things were. It feels like my life is a human game of tug-o-war and I am being pulled between Ashley and Brandon. I miss my life in Washington and with Brandon gone so much of the time, it’s getting harder to remember why I am even here.

I flip my phone over and check the time. Brandon had said he would probably be home early today, around five. It’s four fifty. I allow myself one more moment to wallow and then push off the couch to go into the kitchen to feed LeeLee.

At the sound of her food dish, she comes running into the room and skids into the back of my legs as she comes to a stop. I topple forward and grab the edge of the counter to keep from falling to the floor. I can’t help but laugh when I look down at her guilty looking face.

A few minutes later I hear the click as the door between the garage and the house is opened and closed. Brandon rounds the corner into the kitchen and sets his keys down on the kitchen island, even though there is a peg near the garage specifically there for keys.

“Hey beautiful girl, how’s it going?” He asks as he crosses the room and pulls me into his arms.

I hesitate to answer as I debate whether or not to mention the story on TV or my unease after the conversation with Ashley.

“Cherry? Are you ok?” He asks, pulling back just enough so he can look at my face.

I nod but don’t say anything, afraid that if I do, all my anxiety and fears will come out in a tangled mess. I also know I can’t fake my way through it and pretend everything is fine because Brandon will see right through my act.

He cups my face in his hands and his eyes grow wide with concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” I say breaking our eye contact, dropping my eyes to his chest.

“It’s obviously something. Is this about the pictures?”

“Ashley called, she said they are all over the internet and there was a thing on TV too,” I answer, meeting his eyes again. “I know it shouldn’t be a big deal. I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much. It’s not like it’s unexpected. I guess I just didn’t think it would all be so…public…so quickly.

“The way Ashley made it sound is like I should be happy about all the attention. Maybe she’s right. Most girls would probably love it, all the fancy dresses, posh dinners, having their picture taken for everyone to see that she’s dating a movie star. Maybe that would be better for you, someone who can deal with all of this. It just makes me feel like I’m being hunted or something.” 

Well, there it is: the tangled mess.

“Baby,” he says, his voice low. “Please believe me when I say that there is no way I would rather be with anyone else. Ever. The fact that you’re different and not all about the flashy stuff and attention is just one of the many things I love about you.”

He pauses to consider my face, as if trying to decide whether or not I believe him or if I need more convincing before continuing. “I’m sorry about last night, had I known it was going to be like that I would have picked another restaurant or we could’ve stayed in.”

“But that’s the thing, we can’t stay in forever! At some point we have to leave this house and go out into the chaos and I’m not sure I can deal with that. I’m struggling to find my place here and I need to be able to go out and have a life and not feel terrified of people hiding in bushes with cameras.”

He sighs. “I know. I understand, trust me. I felt the same way when I first started getting exposure. I lived in this city for a year before things blew up and I started getting all this attention. It’s a hard pill to swallow. For me it was different though because it meant that my dreams were coming true and that it’s kind of right of passage into the future I wanted for myself.” He pauses. “For you, it’s different. You didn’t ask for any of this, it’s being forced on you. Because of me.”

We are quiet for a moment. I can feel the tension and wish there was something I could say to make him feel better but I can’t think of anything because he’s right. It is his fault that I’m in this position.

There is not a doubt in my mind that I want to spend the rest of my life with Brandon but if that comes with all these other complications and baggage, I’m not sure I’ll be able to make that compromise.

Chapter Sixteen

The next few days are better. Brandon’s promotional obligations end and we are actually able to spend time together and we come to an agreement that we will take things slow in regards to going public with our relationship.

The story doesn’t die down as much as we had anticipated. A variety of different media outlets come out of the woodwork to try and get the scoop on me and my relationship with Brandon. Brandon’s agent keeps calling with offers to do a joint appearance on multiple different entertainment shows and several magazines offering us the cover to tell our story.

Brandon is able to hold them at bay and I’ve overheard a few of his more heated conversations with his agent trying to get across the point that we are not willing to exploit ourselves in exchange for more publicity.

Despite all of the hoopla, we actually spend more time out in public. I’m still not used to the exposure but I don’t freeze up the way I did that night outside the restaurant. It seems like there are more photographers at each turn and in some ways I feel like keeping our relationship such a secret is making it feel like there is more attention and pressure.

Today, we are having a very normal day, we went grocery shopping for a few odds and ends and are now getting lunch at a cute outdoor café before heading home again. Sitting on the patio I feel a little more relaxed because there is a fence and landscaping to keep prying eyes away.

Brandon and I are sitting on the same side of the table and I’m leaned up against his shoulder as he picks at the leftovers on my plate. It all feels refreshingly normal and for the first time since getting to California I am starting to let my guard down a little and am beginning to see how we could make this all work out.

“Do you want to go to the beach tonight?” He asks, wrapping his free arm around my waist.

“Really?” I ask, my eyes lighting up. “That would be amazing!”

He smiles. “Yeah, one of my buddies, Denny, has a pretty sweet beach house and he’s having a dinner thing tonight and so he invited me, well us, to stop by.”

The name doesn’t register as someone he has talked about before. Back home I knew all of Brandon’s friends, but I haven’t met anyone since being in L.A.

I start picturing some fancy dinner party on the beach and wish Ashley was here to help me decide what to wear. I try to push missing Ashley out of my head and offer Brandon a smile. “It sounds fun.”

A few hours later we are back at the house and I find myself in the walk in closet trying to decide what to wear. On the way home I had asked Brandon what the dress code would be for the night but he was less than helpful, telling me to wear whatever I want.

I flip through a few outfits and finally grab a long pink sundress and gold, strappy sandals. After getting dressed and fixing my makeup and hair, I go back into the bedroom, expecting to see Brandon waiting for me but he’s not there. I grab my gold clutch bag and a black shrug in case I get cold later tonight and head down the hall.

The door is open to Brandon’s office. I hear his voice as I get closer and realize he must be on the phone. I stand in the doorway and watch him for a moment. He has his back turned and is staring out the window. He must be making some sort of business call because he looks a little tense and his voice seems unsettled. He’s talking numbers and contracts and I don’t really understand whatever is going on. He keeps his business and finances pretty separated from his day to day life so I haven’t been exposed to a lot of it at this point.

He spins around, making some gesture with his hands. He looks surprised to see me. He presses the phone into his chest. “I’ll be right down,” he says.

I get the feeling that he doesn’t want me standing in the doorway while he finishes his call. It seems odd but I nod and give him a small smile before turning and going downstairs.

Ten minutes pass and he still hasn’t come downstairs. I start to get more worried with each passing moment. Questions start flooding my mind of why he didn’t want me listening in on the call.

My thoughts (or paranoia, depending on how you look at it) are interrupted when he finally comes downstairs.

“Sorry about that,” he says as he pulls his jacket from the closet and slips it on.

“Was it something about the movie?” I ask, fishing for information.

“No, it was just another deal I’m working on. Don’t worry about it, everything is fine,” he assures, giving me a smile. “You look great, by the way.”

“Not too dressy?” I ask. Brandon is dressed casually but always manages to look incredibly put together.

“Nope, just right,” he answers. He leans in for a kiss and as his lips meet mine I decide to drop the questions about the phone call for now but make a mental note to bring it up again after the party.

***

We arrive at the party and the host, Brandon’s friend Denny and his wife Maggie both greet us at the door. They are probably in their late thirties and are very cute together as they usher us through the main living space and outside to the back deck.

Outside, we are introduced to another couple, Jim and Brit, and two other guys, Reed and Justin, who seem to be flying solo.

“How do you all know each other?” I ask after Brandon introduces me, seemingly familiar with everyone gathered around the outdoor kitchen space.

“Well, Brandon and I worked together on his last film,” Jim offers.

“Are you an actor?” I ask.

“No, actually I’m a lighting specialist,” he explains. “Brit here is trying to get in the game though,” he adds, nudging the gorgeous brunette at his side.

“I’ve done a couple commercials,” she says with a shrug.