Extremely Famous (29 page)

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Authors: Heather Leigh

BOOK: Extremely Famous
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What the hell?
“Oh, okay Adam. I’ll see you.” I thank the crew and Charles and leave with Drew, who is suddenly in a hurry to get out of the penthouse. Rhys gives us a strange look and says he’ll catch up with us later.

Once we’re in the car, I turn to Drew. “So, are you going to t
ell me what happened up there?”

“I’m guessing you alre
ady know what happened up there.” He narrows his brilliant green eyes at me.

Shit.
“Not really. I mean, I have an idea, but I’d appreciate it if you told me.”

Drew sigh
s and pinches the bridge of his nose. “He told me about that night Syd, the party. How he doesn’t remember anything about it. That he was nervous so he drank way too much.” Drew drops his hand and shifts on the leather seat so he can face me. “He apologized for whatever happened between him and my girlfriend if anything did happen, which he can’t remember, and swears he wouldn’t have done anything if he knew she was with someone.”

Wow, I can’t believe Adam actually admitted to all of that. “Okay …
and what did you say?”

He looks so uncomfortable right now, not used to being so wrong about something that he was so sure of.

Drew scowls before answering me, obviously in pain at admitting his mistake. “I believed him. Are you happy?” he says in an annoyed voice.

I lean over and kiss him softly.
“Very,” I whisper against his lips.

“Then it was worth it,” Drew whispers back right before he crushes his mouth against mine.
He pulls back and looks at me again, cocking his head to the side. “He also congratulated me for landing such a beautiful bride.”

“Oh.” I didn’t think Adam would mention the wedding.

Drew takes my chin in his fingers and angles my face up to his. “I’m glad you told him, Sydney.” He lowers his head again for a long, sensual kiss.

Oh my.

 

 

Chapter 34

 

You would think I would be used to this by now. I’m not though, not by a long shot. I don’t think I ever will get used to it. Jane smiles from her seat opposite me in the stretch limo. She looks stunning in her black gown.

“It’ll be fine,” she says encouragingly, well aware of my
heightened nerves by the panicked look on my face.

Drew squeezes my knee reassuringly. “Syd, you’ve done this before. No worries.”

Shouldn’t he be the nervous one? After all, he’s the one up for two awards, Best Actor and Best Picture. The second because he is the executive producer and major financier for the film.

“I’m okay,” I lie, making a pathetic attempt at a smile.

Rhys leans forward and starts his usual, compulsive drill, giving us directions for the red carpet.

“Okay, you guys probably don’t need me to say this, so all I’ll tell you is to follow Jane and she’ll direct you to the interviews that we promised as well as the other important ones. There’s a fan area where it’s expected that you’ll sign a few autographs and take a few pictures,” he says to Drew. “Then you head inside. That’s pretty much it.”

“Right.” Drew says it confidently, but I know him well enough to see the nerves behind the façade.

God he looks so gorgeous today. He’s wearing a black Armani tuxedo with a regular black tie instead of a bow. His hair is tousled and messy as usual, giving him that just fucked look that I love so much.

“Okay guys, we’re next.” Rhys leans forward to see out the side window.

My hands are shaking I’m so nervous.
You can do this Sydney.

I feel Drew’s hot breath on my ear. “I love you, Syd.”

I nod my head without speaking, too anxious to answer.

The limo glides to a stop and a valet opens the door. Sounds from the excited crowd fill the car and flashbulbs pulse non-stop just outside.

Drew gets up and waves to the crowd. A deafening roar ripples through the mass of bystanders. He turns and extends a hand to me.
This is it.
I reach out to grab my lifeline and step out of the car.

The sound is so loud that I have to
physically fight the urge to cover my ears by clutching Drew’s hand with both of mine. I let go only to smooth a hand down the front of my black Stella McCartney gown with diamond cut-outs that reveal swaths of skin and breathe deeply. I put on my best smile and clutch Drew’s hand so tight he may lose feeling in it.

He leans
down close so I can hear him. “Let’s do this babe.”

I look up and smile at
my gorgeous husband, he’s smiling back down at me. We’re a couple of idiots in love and the crowd is eating it up. Flashes go off non-stop as we start walking the carpet. Photographers scream our names, each trying to get the best shot.

“Over here first,” Jane says, appearing out of nowhere to direct us to a dark-haired woman with a microphone, a cameraman at her shoulder.

“And here comes Andrew Forrester, nominated for Best Actor tonight for
A Soldier’s Burden
, along with his date Sydney Tannen. Hi guys, are you excited to be here?” the bubbly brunette asks us.

“Hi Julia, this is a little overwhelming I have to tell you,” Drew says to her, his Andrew Forrester persona taking over.

“You’ve won awards before, you must be used to all this by now,” she jokes, indicating the near-hysterical crowd of women behind us. Drew won the Golden Globe for this same role earlier this year.

“Yeah, it’s crazy, isn’t it?” Drew says modestly.

The reporter turns her sharp gaze to me. “Sydney, you look gorgeous as usual. Stella McCartney?”

“Yes,
Julia, it is.”

“Are you nervous for Andrew tonight?” she continues.

“No, the film is great and his performance is brilliant. Either way it turns out, I’m proud of him.”

We wrap up that interview and move on to several more almost identical interviews after that. We pose for so many photos that my face might crack from s
miling. Drew keeps leaning down, pretending to tell me something when he’s actually just kissing my ear, giving me chills.

After an eternity, we
make it inside the theater and Drew finds his cast mates and his director, who is also nominated tonight. They’re a great group that I’ve gotten to know over the course of several different awards ceremonies leading up to this night.

An attendant leads us to our seats and I’m horrified to find out that we’re in the front row. I hadn’t thought about the seating arrangement until now
, and front row means on camera… a lot.

Crap!

“Are you doing okay?” Drew asks after we take our seats.

“I’m fine babe, just nervous
.” I sit on my hands to hide the fact that they’re shaking.

He trails his fingers down my cheek and gently presses his mouth to mine. “I can’t wait to get you
back to the hotel Mrs. Forrester, you look extraordinary.”

I see the desire in his eyes and it sets my blood racing through my veins. I will never get enough of this hot, sexy man.

The ceremony starts and so does the anticipation. Best Actor and Best Picture are the last two categories, so we have a long wait. The two female comedians hosting the show poke fun at half of the audience. I grit my teeth when they make a joke about me and Drew and Nakedgate, but pretend to laugh along with them.

I’m sure the entire viewing audience knows that I don’t find it funny
. I’m a terrible actress and my face certainly shows my discomfort. Drew outright scowls at the joke, probably because he knows most of this room has seen me naked and that pisses him off to no end.

Drew’s cast mate wins Best Supporting Actor and the audience goes wild.
It seems as if the film community loves this movie as much as I do. We watch as his film wins three more categories that it’s nominated for; cinematography, adapted screenplay, and visual effects.

After
two and a half painful hours, it’s time for Best Actor. My anxiety level is through the roof and I don’t even know why. It doesn’t matter if Drew wins or not, I love him either way. Maybe it’s just the suspense or maybe his nerves are seeping into me.

The actress who announces the winner nervously opens the envelope and you could hear a pin drop when she reads the card.

“Andrew Forrester for
A Soldier’s Burden
.”

T
he entire theater rises to their feet to cheer for my husband. He pulls me up with him and puts his hands on either side of my face kissing me passionately. I’m so excited for him that I barely notice the giant camera two feet away from us. Reaching in his pocket, he takes something out and presses it into my palm. “You’re going to need these,” he says, then he’s gone.

I watch my confident, beautiful man climb the stairs and stand there stunned as the actress gives him an air kiss and hands him the statue. Drew places it on the podium and looks
at it, a little overwhelmed. I guess he didn’t think he’d win, because he is definitely in shock. This is Drew up there, not Andrew Forrester. His astonished reaction is authentic and charming.

Remembering that he gave me something, I look
down at my hand and see that I have my engagement and wedding rings. I need these? I suck in a breath, faintly remembering a conversation we had several months ago. Holy crap, he wouldn’t, would he?

Yes,
yes he would.

“Wow,” he says, his voice clear and strong in the huge theater. “I have a lot of people to thank.” Drew lists everyone who helped to make this tiny independent film into such a huge success. He mentions his parents and his sister and how their support means everything to him.

Holy fuck, no way! Am I going to throw up?

“And finally
, I’d like to thank someone very important to me. Someone … who has put up with a lot of crap to be with me. Things that would break most people and send them running.” His eyes find mine in the front row, “Not my girl. Instead of running away, she married me. To my gorgeous wife Sydney, this win is for you.”

He holds up his Oscar and I see his ring, the dark gray band of tungsten that he had custom made by Harry Winston, in its place on his left hand. Laughing through my tears of joy, I slide mine onto my finger.

The theater erupts in applause, people clapping and cheering for Drew, for us. My first thought is that our parents are going to kill us. He announced our marriage on TV without telling them about it first. My second thought is how in the heck are we going to make it out of this theater without getting mobbed?

They cut to a commercial break so Drew can get back to his seat before they announce Best Picture. When he re-enters the theater, the crowd goes crazy, congratulating us and cheering.

I know I must turn bright red when he steps up to me and give me a passionate kiss in front of all of these people, but I can’t help but smile. He is so freaking happy right now, I wouldn’t ruin it for anything.

When his film wins Best Picture, he has to go
right back onstage, joined this time by the other executives and cast members. Drew lets the other producers make the acceptance speech, stepping back to give them their moment in the spotlight.

Finally, we get to leave and as predicted, it’s a mess. It seems as if every single person in the theater wants
to personally congratulate us. Either on Drew’s wins or the news of our marriage. Then there are the reporters backstage who are all vying to get the coveted first interview with Drew after dropping that massive mushroom cloud on live television.

By the time we get into our limo
, I’m exhausted but elated.

“Bruce, take us to Chad’s house in Brentwood please,” Drew says to our driver.

I whip my head to stare at Drew. “What? We’re not going back to the hotel?”

“No babe, it’s Oscar night. There’s al
ways a party.” Drew is grinning ear to ear.

I lean in and r
un my teeth lightly up his neck. “I had been hoping for a private party, Mr. Forrester.”

He
shivers and turns to me. I can see the tortured lust in his eyes. “Syd, we have to be there. I promised. But I’ll take you up on your offer as soon as we can leave.”

Crap. I guess I’m going to an Oscar party.

We pull into the long drive and up to Chad’s mansion, memories of our afternoon here and the fallout from that day flood my mind. I swallow nervously and decide that I won’t let that crap ruin our night.

It looks as though
the party has already started. The house is lit up all over and I can hear music playing from somewhere. Drew brings me through the kitchen toward the familiar patio where the infamous Nakedgate went down.

As we step outside
, everyone turns to watch us join the party. I scan the crowd and realize that I know every single one of these people. I see my Dad, my Mom holding hands with Chad,
I knew it!
Leah, Ryker, Allie, Dex, Drew’s parents, Jane, Bruce, Drew’s
A Soldier’s Burden
cast mates and crew, Bethany Williams, Damien, Drew’s friend Bobby from the gym, even Sal, Evan and Steve are here.

“What’s going on?” I ask Drew.

“It’s our wedding reception of course.”

I stare at him, gaping like an idiot.
“You … you planned this?”

He shrugs
casually, as if it’s no big deal to plan a huge surprise party behind my back. “Even if I didn’t win Syd, I wanted to tell our family. I figured this would be a good way to do it.”

I throw my arms around him and pull his head down to my level
. “It’s not a good way Drew, it’s a great way.”

He laughs and dips me back
for a dramatic, Hollywood-style kiss and for once, I don’t care who’s watching.

Life doesn’t get any better than this.

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