Extremely Famous (19 page)

For the second day in a row, Bruce stops the SUV in front of the brick building that houses the three-story corporate penthouse. Steve accompanies me today. He and Evan seem to be alternating days of the week to baby-sit me.
Yay!
I jump out of the car and Steve dutifully follows me into the elevator.

I tug at the sleeve of my navy, lightweight wool
, Gucci blazer and attempt to calm my nerves. I haven’t wanted a job this much in a long time so I say a silent prayer that the client will be easy to work with.

We exit onto the top floor and instead of entering the code, I ring the doorbell. I don’t want to enter the property if the owner is on the premises, it would be rude. The door swings open and my heart
stutters to a stop.

Karma
, it’s something that I’ve never put a lot of faith in before or even believed to exist. The notion that your deeds in a past life determine whether or not good or bad things happen to you in your next life just seems so unlikely. But when the door to the penthouse opens and I get a look at my new client, the one who specifically requested me for my dream job, the one I left Drew on tour for, I know for a fact that I must have been a real bastard in my past life.

“Hello
, Sweetheart,” the person in the doorway says.

I stand in the hall, speechless
and unable to move. My mouth is gaping open like I’m the village idiot.

“B-but, how?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“
You
own Black Knight Inc.?”

“Well of course I do. What kind of Brit would I be if I didn’t love Monty Python? Are you going to stand out there
all day?” He lifts an eyebrow and stares at me with his deep hazel eyes.

Fluster
ed, I step inside the penthouse in complete shock. Steve sticks his hand out at the last second, preventing the door from being shut in his face.

“I’ll be wherever Miss Tannen is if you don’t mind,” he says menacingly.

Steve enters the foyer behind me, crossing his arms over his wide chest and glaring at the man who let us in. My new client just shrugs casually, not really caring one way or another if Steve is here or in the hall.

I put my hands on my hips, at a
total loss. “Adam Reynolds, tell me that you didn’t do this just to get me here with you!” I demand angrily.

Adam is grinning, his stupid handsome face as smug as I’ve ever seen it. “Sydney, you’re the best. After seeing both of your designs for the Warren p
lus your gorgeous personal loft…” He glances at Steve when he remembers that we aren’t alone and he’s discussing being in my home. Steve stares right back at him, unflinching. “Ummm, naturally I wanted you to do my New York apartment.”

“You.
You
bought this?” I make a sweeping gesture around the room. “A twenty-eight million dollar home just to hire me to remodel it?” I huff in disbelief.

“Actually, m
y company bought it,” he clarifies, still giving me that infuriating smile. “I’ve been spending more time in New York than anywhere else so it makes sense to have a place of my own.” Fleetingly, his expression turns sad, in a blink and miss it moment. “There’s not much left for me in the UK these days, and I’m tired of hotels. I wanted to be near the café and my studio, both of which are just a few blocks away.”

The more I look at him, the angrier I become. He’s wearing
distressed jeans that fit snugly around his assets. His black Ramones T-shirt stretches tight across his muscled chest and arms. The tribal tattoo on his arm spirals down to his wrist, giving him a sexy, bad boy look.

Shit, he looks hot. Now I’m really pissed
.

“I can’t believe this,” I hiss
, pacing the room. I want to design this space more than anything, but I can’t work with Adam. Drew would flip out if he even knew I was here with Adam for this meeting!

Adam takes a step closer to me and I hold up a hand to stop him.
His face crumples in hurt and confusion. “I thought we were friends, Sydney.”

He really has no clue how pissed I am? How fucked up this is?
“Don’t give me that sad face Adam! After what you did at my Dad’s premiere, I highly doubt that we’re still friends,” I snap.

“Really?” he says in a cocky voice. “Your boyfriend needs to have more faith in you if me winding him up is going to make him go mental.”

“You’re doing this on purpose to piss him off!” I snarl. “Just like you antagonized him at the theater! Being a dick to Drew isn’t a very good way to be my friend.”

Adam flinches back and seems to think that over. “You’re right, of course. I’m a stupid prick Sydney. Sorry. I really nee
d your help with my new place. Can we just discuss it before you tell me to fuck off?” He looks sincere, but I still don’t trust him. I want this job though. Badly.

“Fine. We’ll discuss the apartment, then I’ll decid
e if I can work with you or not.” I say it as professionally as I can manage, which isn’t much due to the fact that I’m pissed as hell at him.

“This way Sweetheart,” Adam says as he ushers me into the sitting area.

I glare at him. “Don’t call me that, please.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” He gives me that exasperating
, devilishly handsome smile again.

“Grrrrrr!” I scream
. “You are so damn frustrating!” I stomp into the magnificent living space and throw myself down on the couch.

Steve’s eyes never leave
us while we discuss Adam’s vision for the apartment. It turns out that his vision is for me to do whatever I want. Free reign and an unlimited budget! It’s all I can do not to drool onto his expensive hardwood floors.

“So Syd, what do yo
u think? Fancy working for me?”

“Actually, everything about t
his project is perfect.” I meet Adam’s expectant gaze. “Except for the fact that it’s you.”

“Ouch,” he says with mock indignation, covering his heart with his hand.

“Fortunately for you, I really want to get my hands on this penthouse. When do you want me to start?”

Adam’s perfectly stubbled
face breaks out in a huge grin. “Brilliant Sydney, just brilliant. Straight away of course.”

I get up and extend my hand to Adam. He stands and shakes it enthusiastically, then tugs on my hand until I’m pressing against his chest. Before I can say a word, he’s wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug.

Steve clears his throat at the same time as I shove Adam away from me. “Don’t do that! You can’t be all touchy-feely with me, Adam.”

He smiles his annoying
gorgeous smile at me and says nothing, but he does release me from his embrace. At least I won’t have to watch Steve pound him into next week while I stand there helplessly.

“If you can keep your hands to yourself I’ll come up with some ideas and see you in a few days. Does that sound good?”

“I promise, hands to myself Sydney.” He puts them behind his back to emphasize his understanding. “See you then,” Adam grins. “Oh, and we should exchange numbers, you know, so you can ring me if you have any questions.”

The mischievous glint in his eyes has me thinking that maybe this isn’t the best
decision I’ve ever made.

Steve ushers me into the SUV idling by the curb in front of Adam’s building. Drew won’t be getting back to the brownstone until 4pm at the earliest, so I have a couple of hours to kill
and plot how to break this news to him.

“Bruce, can we swing by my loft? I ha
ve a few things I’d like to get.” I lean toward the driver as he pulls out into traffic.

“Sure thing Sydney. It’s just, ummm,” Bruce sounds really uncomfortable with whatever he wants to say.

I roll my eyes, knowing what he’s trying to get at. “Steve will be coming upstairs with me, Bruce. I’ll need help bringing some things down anyway.”

I can see Bruce’s eyes crinkle up in the rearview mirror as the back of his neck turns red, an embarrassed smile. At least he’s polite about keeping me safe, unlike Drew who can get ruthlessly rude.

The two block drive takes less than five minutes and we’re stopping in front of my loft. I’m shocked to see that there isn’t a single photographer in sight.

“Hey Richard!” I call out to my doorman
as I hop down onto to the sidewalk.

His eyes widen in surprise.
“Miss Tannen! You’re a sight for sore eyes, beautiful as always.”

“You’re always saying such nice things Richard. How has everything been?” It seems like forever since I’ve been here even though it’s only been a week.

“Everything has been fine, but now that you’re here the world is right again.” I almost feel normal. Then I catch a glance of Steve behind me and the moment evaporates.

“Well, unfortunately I can’t stay long. I’m just getting a few things. Is my mail at the concierge?”

“I believe it is, Miss Tannen.” Richard opens the door so I can enter. He doesn’t even flinch when Steve’s huge form follows me into the lobby. He’s used to seeing Steve or one of the other guys by now. It’s second nature, I’m sure.

I turn back to
Richard before the door closes. “Richard, has the press been… I don’t know, around more recently?”

“They left the day you flew out to L.A. I don’t think they know you’re back in New York or else they’d most certainly be here today
.”

I notice the sympathy in his kind eyes. Briefly, I wonder if he thinks I’m crazy for ever coming out of my protective bubble of privacy. Hell, sometimes I think I’m crazy for doing it as well.

“Thanks Richard, hopefully they don’t find out I’m in the city.” Steve collects a few packages that are at the desk for me and I sort through the stack of mail as we take the elevator to the 8
th
floor.

I toss the mail onto the pile on my desk in the home office and sit in the comfortable leather chair. Spinning it around, I face the windows and stare out at the cloudy cityscape. Adam Reynolds,
fuck! Drew is going to lose his shit.

I sigh and roll my chair close enough to the window to press my forehead on the cool glass. Memories of the minutes, no hours I’ve spent in this position come flooding back. I can’t allow panic to take over my life again. I can be strong enough to face anything, can’t I?

Pushing back from the window, I turn and gather some items that I’ll need to work on Adam’s penthouse. I carelessly throw everything into a large rolling case that I use to haul my sample books and swatches around. I grab the stack of mail and cram it in the case with the books.

“Steve, here’s one piece that needs to go down,” I call out. Steve appears from the hallway where he was waiting patiently. “I’ll need to get some clothes, do you want to bring this down and come back up or should we call concierge to come and get it?”

He gives me a look that lets me know he isn’t going to leave me alone in the loft.

I huff loudly.
“Fine.” Stomping into the hall, I push the intercom and ask the desk to send someone up to retrieve my bag. “They’re on their way. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

Steve nods as I pass and he takes the rolling bag over to the door to wait for the front desk. I make quick work of the closet, tossing some clothes onto the bed along with a few pairs of shoes. As I stuff everything into a large suitcase I wonder how long Drew expects me to stay at his place.

I need to ask him when he gets back because I really prefer to sleep here. Drew’s four story brownstone is beautiful and safe, but it doesn’t feel like home. It’s not as cozy as my loft, plus it has a floor that’s at street level, which makes me nervous considering the press can get out of control sometimes.

I drag the giant bag out of my room. “I’m ready.”

“I’ll get it,” Steve says as he easily maneuvers the heavy suitcase that I was struggling with.

“Oh, just one more thing.
” I hurry into the kitchen, leaving Steve in the foyer by the front door.

I’ll need to steel myself to speak with Drew about Adam.
It’s going to be awful. Grabbing a small glass from the cabinet I pour a nice sized shot of Patrón and slam it, grimacing from the taste. Yuk, I shouldn’t do that without a lime. I rinse the glass and put it back in the cabinet.

“Okay, let’s go
.” Steve gives me the side-eye as I pass him and walk through the door. I know that he is fully aware that I just had alcohol, I just don’t give a shit. I’m an adult and it’s none of his business.

We close the door of my home for the last six years and head back to Chelsea.

I’m sitting at Drew’s desk in his office when I get a text.

Drew <
Just landed. Will be there soon. Dinner out?>

I glance at the message. G
oing out means that I don’t have to tell him about Adam yet. That’s too tempting to pass up.

Me <
OK, any preference?>

It only takes a second for him to type back.

Drew

Okay, the little x’s and o’s make me feel a bit guilty for not wanting to mention the owner of my new project,
the dream project that any designer would kill to have.

Well, it’s not my fault that Drew is so irrational when it comes to Adam. Except for at my Dad’s premiere when he purposely
provoked Drew, Adam has been nothing but friendly. No weird looks, no weird words, he’s never even asked me out for God’s sake!

I don’t have a lot of friends, so it kind of pisses me off that they can’t get along. Whatever, it’s not my problem that they can’t act like adults. I want this job and I’m doing it, even if it leads to an almighty fight with Drew. I’ll allow the bodyguards and not staying at my loft temporarily if he thinks it’s best, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to pick and choose friends and jobs based on his insecurities.

My phone chirps again, startling me out of my internal rant.

Drew <
La Cantina. Private room, 7pm>

I have to admit, Jane is good. Not a lot of people could manage a private room at one of the top restaurants in New York City on three hours’ notice. La Cantina is a very popular restaurant that serves Northern Italian cuisine
and is known for the extensive wine selection in their cellar.

They must get stuck in terrible traffic because by the time Bruce gets Drew back to the brownstone, it’s already 6pm. I hear him come up the stairs from the garage so I head down to
greet him.

“Hey, traffic was bad?” I ask as I enter the kitchen.

Drew drops his bag and comes over to me, wrapping his arms around my small frame and crushing me to his large one. His unique smell surrounds me and I relax into his embrace.

“Miss me?” I say half-joking
as I lay my head on his chest.

Drew
pulls back to look into my eyes. “You have no idea.” He leans down and slants his mouth over mine, sliding his tongue into its depths. He kisses me like he hasn’t seen me in months, not days and I wonder what he’s thinking that has him acting like this.

When he stops, he takes my hand and tugs me toward the stairs. “I have to t
ake a quick shower and change. Come upstairs with me. I don’t want to be apart any more than we have to.” His face is so hopeful, how can I say no?

I let him lead me up the two flights to the master bedroom and wait on the bed while he showe
rs, checking my email from my phone. There’s one from Bethany.

To: Sydney Tannen

From: Bridget Williams

Sydney,

I’m glad you decided to take the Black Knight penthouse project. I am so jealous of you! The owner has arranged for Architectural Digest to do an article when it’s complete! This is a HUGE deal for you and for the firm. Call me to talk about it!

Bridget

Holy shit! I may have to kill Adam myself. No doubt that would make Drew happy. Thinking about being in a magazine with Adam makes my stomach churn with nerves. I can’t believe he would do this. Actually, I can believe it. He’s probably doing it just to rub it in Drew’s face that I’m designing his home.

I feel so stupid. M
aybe Adam
is
just using me to get under Drew’s skin.

“Syd?” Drew’s voice startles me from reading my email.

“Crap!” I drop my phone on the floor. “Oh, you scared me,” I clutch at my chest. “Don’t sneak up on me!”

“I didn’t sneak up on you, I
spoke to you from the bathroom. You didn’t hear me, I guess.” He’s wearing only a low slung towel, drips of water tracing a tantalizing path down his perfect abs and disappearing. I think about licking the water off of his stomach and wonder if he’d let me.

“Sydney!” he snaps. “Are you even listening to me at all? Where is your head
at right now?”

I tear my gaze from his half-nak
ed body and look up at his face. “Sorry. You can’t expect me to pay attention if you’re going to be half-naked and dripping wet,” I tell him, shrugging innocently.

A la
zy grin spreads across his face and that delicious dimple peeks out, tempting me to jump up and devour it. “Hmmm, maybe I’m not the only one who was lonely these last few nights.”

I feel the h
eat rushing to my cheeks, “Possibly. Are we going out or staying in?” I ask as seductively as I can manage considering how flustered I am.

“As much as I’d love to stay here all night, I’m starving and there’s not a lot of food around. Unl
ess you cooked something for us?” he asks sarcastically, cocking his head in my direction.

I know I’m a terrible cook, and he’s heard stories confirming this fact. “No need to rub it in that I’m a disaster in the kitchen
, Drew. Come on. Go get dressed so we can leave.” I stand and push on his rock hard abs in a pathetic attempt to move him along.

Drew grabs my wrists in his large hands and pins them behind my back, pulling me against his body so I can feel the heat from his skin
through my clothing. “We’ll go, but don’t think that we’re done here,” he whispers, skimming his mouth along my neck, giving me goose bumps that cause an involuntary shiver.

When he releases me
and leaves to get dressed I’m dizzy from desire. Damn, I wish we didn’t have to go out. I need to learn how to cook.

The private dining room at La Cantina is perfect. Jane reserved the wine cellar room, a dimly lit, intimate setting surrounded by hundreds of bottles of vintage bottles. We manage to get in
to the restaurant relatively unseen. We can only hope that no one Tweets or posts our location online.

After
ordering and getting a bottle of wine I look at Drew. He seems stressed out, his mind a million miles away.

“Are you okay?” I ask as I sip my
wine, a dark red that costs way too much in my opinion. I’d prefer a few tequila shooters, but I’m not about to tell Drew that.

Drew leans back in his chair and studies his glass,
trying to decide what to say. “I’m better now that I’m back here with you, Syd.” He fixes his stare on me, pinning me down with his clear green eyes. Behind the words and the tough shell I can sense something wrong. Once again, he’s shutting me out.

Deciding that there will be plenty of time
to argue later, I let the moment pass, choosing instead to relax and have a nice dinner. We have a good time in spite of whatever is bothering Drew. He doesn’t mention my lack of an engagement ring and I don’t mention Adam Reynolds or
Architectural Digest
. We’re both basking in our mutual denial of reality, and for tonight, I’m okay with that.