Absolutely Famous (28 page)

Chapter 30

I’m nervous and excited at the same time. I haven’t been to a professional sporting event since I was eleven years old and my dad used to bring me to the Knicks games. We’d sit in his courtside seats and be front and center on the big screen. I remember how I used to think I was so cool at those games, being on TV with my dad and his famous friends.

God I was so dumb
.

Bruce guides the huge SUV down Yawkey Way and pulls up to the gates at the corner of Van Ness. He puts the car in park and hops out, walking over to the gate where a huge guy dressed in Fenway Park gear comes over to meet him. They speak for a second and Bruce flashes some sort of pass. The man nods and says something into his radio as he waves us through.

“Aren’t you prepared,” I say to Drew, bumping his shoulder playfully.

“Nothing is going to keep me out of this park today,” he says seriously.

Well good Lord, it’s just a game.

“We really had to get here this early?” I ask him. He said the game
starts after seven, but it’s not even five o’clock yet.

Drew looks at me as if
I’m the dumbest person on Earth. “We have to watch batting practice, meet with the office staff and the owner, take photos with the players, and we had to get here before they closed down Yawkey Way to traffic because then it’s a bitch to get to this lot.”

“Well okay then, you don’t have to be
rude,” I say crossly. “Baseball is so damn complicated.”

He leans ove
r and kisses the end of my nose. “Plus, I have to throw out the first pitch. I need to practice so I won’t look like an ass in front of my girl.”

I roll my eyes at him, then catch him grinning. “You’re super excited about this aren’t you?”

“Yes. Mostly to take you to your first game here.” Bruce parks the car and Drew hops out and extends a hand to me, helping me down. “This place is fuckin’ magic babe. I want you to love it.”

Steve gets out of the front seat and comes around to our side of the car at the same time as a young man in a red polo shirt with a Sox emblem approaches us.

“Miss Tannen, Mr. Forrester, I’m Ryan from the Front Office and I’ll take you inside.” We shake hands, Drew introduces Steve and then we follow the guy through a metal door as he talks non-stop. I think he’s nervous to be around us because not only does he never quit talking but he also stumbles over his own feet three separate times. I actually feel sorry for him.

Ryan brings us to the owner’s office where we pose for pictures and greet dozens of members of the staff. It turns out Drew was right. By the time we meet ever
yone who was waiting for us, it’s almost six and he’s itching to watch the end of batting practice. Ryan tells us it’s time to go down to the field for pictures with the team right before Drew freaks out.

Ryan brings us down to the dark main level of the stadium and up a ramp that opens onto a brilliant sight. The colors of the park are so saturated it’s as if we were seeing in black and white before we
came outside. The bright green of the walls and grass and vivid red of the seats and signs fill my vision. Against the brilliant blue sky of the perfect summer day, it almost looks like a painting. I feel as though I’ve stepped into history.

T
here aren’t that many spectators here yet, but the ones that are here are clustered around the dugout nearest to us, the home dugout. We walk right toward the crowd of people, most of whom haven’t noticed us because they’re busy leaning over the low wall that surrounds the field, trying to get the different players’ attention for autographs.

Ryan heads straight for the low
green wall about halfway between home plate and the Red Sox dugout and opens a door that I hadn’t even noticed, leading us onto the field.

If they didn’t notice us before,
they sure do now. I hear cheers as they recognize Drew, their hometown kid who made it big in Hollywood. Soon enough, the few thousand people in the park are clapping and cheering as if Drew were the second coming. This town holds its own in high regards. Nervous to have so many people looking at me, I clutch his hand as we head over to the dugout.

Drew greets the players, some of whom he’s met before today. Others are excited to meet Drew for the first time, and even more of them are excited to meet me, something that doesn’t make Drew very happy. Had he thought of it ahead of time, he wouldn’t have wanted to get here early enough to meet them and expose me to their shameless flirting. I roll my eyes at his scowl when yet another
cute player chats me up. We end up posing for so many photos with them that my cheeks hurt from smiling.

“Having fun?” I ask Drew while we wait to go back to our seats.

He grunts, then looks back at the players in the dugout. “They didn’t have to flirt so blatantly with you.”

I bump him with my hip.
“Are you jealous?”

He just
grumbles in response.

Yep, jealous. How cute.

Ryan leads me back through the door in the green wall and shows me our front row seats next to the dugout. Steve sits with me while I wait for Drew to throw out the first pitch. The people of Boston love their team so much that they ignore me to watch the field. It could also be because Steve blocks the aisle with his massive body so that no one can get close to me.

Drew gets a standing ovation when he’s introduced as “Boston’s Own”. As he walks out from the dugout, the announcer lets the fans know that a portion of today’s ticket sales will go to Drew’s charity, Inpatient to Learn
, which provides private teachers to kids in long term hospital wards. I fight to keep the tears off of my face when the crowd cheers for his charitable work.

He looks
so gorgeous standing on the pitcher’s mound, wearing his official Red Sox player’s shirt with Caldwell’s number on it, and delivers a perfect throw to the waiting catcher. Drew shakes hands with him and tips his hat to the crowd and they go wild again. Leaving his gross lucky hat at the hotel, he wore a newer looking one today. He said he didn’t want the public to see him in his ‘disguise’ and be able to recognize him in that thing.
Yuk.

Ryan brings Drew back over to the secret door in the wall and shows him to our seats. People in our section clap for him and pat his back as he makes his way over to me. I’m not big on PDA, but when he sits down next to me I can’t help but throw my arms around him and give him a big kiss. “That was
so awesome babe,” I whisper in his ear.

We settle in and I watch my first ever game at Fenway Park. I never knew that boring old baseball could be so much fun. We get popcorn and Sam Adams, and Drew shows me how to score a game on a sheet of paper. I never g
et the hang of it, but I tried.

He tells me
the history of the park, including the Green Monster, the massive wall in left field, and Pesky’s Pole in right field. The Red Sox beat the Cubs 6-2, so we leave the park in good spirits and head back to the hotel after Drew signs a few autographs for fans near our seats.

“So, what did you think?” Drew asks me in the car, kissing the back of my hand.

“That was one of the coolest places I’ve ever been,” I tell him truthfully. “I can see why you love it so much.”

Drew grabs me and hugs me hard.
“I’m so glad you loved it there. It means a lot to me.”

No joke, in Boston people really do take baseball way too seriously
.

It’s late when we get back to the hotel, so I throw my purse on the hall table and wander into the bedroom.

“Drew!” I squeal in shock.

“Do you like them?
” He wraps his strong arms around me from behind.

“They’re beautiful.” I walk over to the two racks of designer gowns that have been brought into the room, touching the fine fabrics of each one.

“For the ball,” he whispers into my ear. “I know you haven’t had time to get one so I had Jane make a few calls.”

My boyfriend is always so generous and thoughtful. He did the same thing for his movie premiere.

I turn to face him and tilt my head up to his as he turns his cap around so he can lean down and kiss me. “Thank you. Is this going to be your thing? Bringing me fabulous dresses to choose from?”

“No. Hopefully it will be
our
thing.”

The next morning a seamstress comes over to alter the gown that I’ve chosen for the ball. I ended up letting Drew choose since he had a very obvious preference. It’s a fitted, floor length, ice-blue beaded gown with a plunging neckline straight from Badgley Mischka’s recent runway show.

“It matches your eyes,” Drew tells me as the seamstress flutters around my feet, pinning the gown in different spots.

“I love it Drew. You chose perfectly
.”

“I have to head over to the charity offices
. I’m taking Evan with me. You and Allie take Sal and Steve and have Bruce drive you wherever you need to go.”

“You can take Bruce, we’ll just …”

“No Syd,” he interrupts. “First of all, I need to know that you’re in good hands and I only trust Bruce. Second, you can’t take a cab with four of you, you won’t fit. Please, promise me that you’ll take Bruce and the Suburban.”

Don’t fight him anymore, New Sydney lets things go if they’re important to him.

“Okay, we’ll have Bruce drive us, no worries.”

“I always worry about you Syd.” Drew give
me his honest look.

“I know. I wish you wouldn’t but I love that you do.”

A loud knock on the front door lets us know that Allie has arrived. “I’ll go let her in and see you later?” Drew asks me.

“Of course. We’ll meet you back here.”

He kisses me and heads out.

Allie takes me to one of her favorite restaurants on the harbor, the Atlantic Beer Garden. She said the food is just regular bar food and nothing special but that the rooftop patio is
why she loves coming here. When the hostess shows us our seats, I can see why. From our table we can see the entire harbor and the Boston skyline beyond.

“Wow Allie, this is really great,” I tell her as I take my seat under the huge umbrella, ignoring Steve and Sal who sit at the next table.

“I know. Sometimes a group of us come here for happy hour.” She makes a face. “Well, I used to go with them to happy hour.”

“I’m so sorry Allie. I should never have let you get involved in my giant
bottomless crapbag of problems.”

Her
eyes narrow as she stares at me. “Listen, it’s not your fault that the people I work with are star-fucking assholes.”

So much like her hot tempered brother.

“Plus, you’re like a sister to me. I would never leave you to deal with that bullshit by yourself in a foreign country. And, who else would have kicked my brother’s ass if he didn’t get his head on straight and work it out with you?” She takes a sip of her beer before continuing. “I got something out of it anyway, so it’s not all bad.”

“You’re actually blushing!” I
laugh at Allie’s red cheeks. “So you and Declan are good I take it?”

“We’re great, Syd. He’s coming from L.A. to go with me to the ball. In fact, his flight gets in later tonight.”

“I’m so happy for you.” Raising my glass I prompt her to do the same. “To us, for being bad-ass enough to kick the crap out of haters and enjoy life in spite of them.”

“To us!” she says.

We both drink a swig of our beers and have a great time laughing and talking, like girlfriends should. We talk about Leah and Ryker, who are driving up from New York tomorrow to go with us to the ball the following night. Allie tries her best to ignore the other diners, some of whom are not being very discreet as they take photos of us on their cellphones.

“I better not have ketchup on my face,” she mutters under her breath. “I just don’t see how you can stand it Sydney. People always trying to get a pictu
re, or touch you, or meet you. It’s irritating.”

“Honestly, it’s all I’ve ever known since I was a kid, and the years that I hid in New York? I was even more miserable living in fear that someone would find out who I was. It’s just easier to accept it and move on
.”

“Would you mind if I got a picture with you gorgeous ladies?” A good-looking kid wearing a Boston College T-shirt is standing in front of us with his cellphone, a hopeful look on his face. Sal starts to get up but I
wave him off so he won’t come over.

Allie scowls, but I speak before
she can go off on the poor guy. “Sure.”

“My frat brothers are never gonna believe this,” he
gushes. He gets between me and Allie and we ask the waitress to take the picture for us. Ecstatic, the guy thanks us and walks away.

“Why did you agree to that?”
Allie asks with a puzzled look on her face.

I
shrug. “I’m not sure. I think I’ve decided that it’s just easier this way. As long as they’re polite and not interrupting anything important, I don’t see the point in being a giant douche to everyone.”