Hooked (3 page)

“What’s my surprise? Tell me it has something to do with food,” I mumble into Brandon’s shoulder. We are still nestled together in his ginormous bed, neither one of us making a move to get up just yet.

Brandon laughs. “No, not exactly.” He starts to stir and roll away. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

I fight the urge to cling to him, argue for five more minutes of cuddling, and start to scoot out of bed. I wrap myself up in the sheet and sit at the edge for a minute. The idea of getting back into my travel clothes is less than appealing, and while I’m sure Brandon wouldn’t complain if I decided to wander around naked, I’m not really that kind of person. I prod my discarded jeans with my toe.

“What do you need?” Brandon asks, turning to me as he pulls on a pair of athletic shorts and a black T-shirt.

“Can I borrow a tank top or something? My luggage is all downstairs.”

“Well, I would rather you not put anything on,” he answers.

“Brandon…”

“All right, fine. Check that dresser,” he says, pointing across the room. “I’ll be right back.” He turns, presumably to go to the attached master bath.

I shuffle across the room, careful not to get tangled up in the sheet. I open the top drawer to the dresser, and my mouth drops open when I see it is filled with all of my stuff. The top drawer has my bras, underwear, and socks all laid out in colorful organizer boxes, as if they are in a department store display. The next drawer has all my T-shirts and light sweaters, the bottom drawer my pajamas and workout gear.

I shimmy into a pair of yoga pants, bra, and long-sleeved shirt before going across the room and stepping into the walk-in closet. Everything on one side is clearly Brandon’s, but on the other side, everything is mine—most of it brand new with the tags still attached. I realize the boxes we had shipped down after my shopping spree day must have arrived early.

I run my hand along the line of dresses, check through the drawers on the center island, and notice a few pieces of spicy-looking lingerie that I know I didn’t pick out. I smile and make a mental note to never leave Ashley alone with practically no spending limit in a mall.

“I must say, I’m very intrigued by a few of your selections.”

I spin around to see Brandon standing in the doorway, giving me a lazy grin.

“I think you have Ashley to thank for these additions,” I say, waving at the open drawer.

“Ah ha,” he says, laughing.

“Did you do all this?” I ask. “It’s beautiful.”

He shakes his head. “No, I copped out and called one of those master closet people to come unpack and organize everything. I figured it would make you feel more at home if everything was organized and unpacked when you got here.”

“Thank you. I love it,” I breathe. “It’s perfect.”

“Good, I’m glad. But that isn’t the surprise. Come with me.” He reaches for my hand.

I let him lead me out of the master bedroom and back downstairs. As we walk, I crane my neck to see everything. On our way upstairs, I had been too busy grabbing Brandon’s cock to really pay attention. The whole house is decorated in neutral tones and looks very polished and high end, but it lacks personality. There’s generic-looking artwork on the walls and random knick knacks strategically placed on shelves and tables. I don’t really get the sense that Brandon had too much to do with the decorating, which doesn’t surprise me.

He leads me through the formal living room that appears to have seating for at least a dozen people and takes me out the double doors that lead to the back patio. There is an outdoor kitchen, complete with brick oven; a pool with an infinity edge; and a hot tub with a water feature. The plants and flowers are more plentiful out here than in the front of the house. The combination of sparkling blue water and the greenery makes it feel a little bit like a tropical oasis. I’m half expecting to see a toucan sitting in a tree. Beyond that, is a view of the hillside that seems to go on forever. Although I can see other houses, they are so far off that it still feels truly private back here.

“This is amazing,” I say.

“Yeah, it really is. Sometimes I still don’t feel like this is really my house,” he says, grabbing my hand. “This is the first big purchase I made after I signed my movie deal. It was important to me to find something like this, a home base, where I can always go to get away from all the noise and chaos.”

I nod, trying to take it all in.

“It feels better now though, now that you’re here,” he adds after a pause.

I look at him and he meets my eyes. We don’t say anything out loud but in that moment, there seems to be an unspoken understanding. I pop up on my tip toes to press a soft kiss to his lips.

He brushes a strand of hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “This still isn’t the surprise,” he announces. He takes a few steps across the patio and picks up a silver bowl that has black paw prints painted on the sides. “This is.”

“You got a dog?” I ask, my eyebrows wrinkling together in confusion as I notice the fenced off section with a dog bone and another bowl matching the one Brandon is holding up for me to see.

“No, but
we
are getting one, tomorrow,” he replies, his eyes twinkling. He sets down the bowl and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He fiddles with it for a moment before turning the screen to face me so I can see the picture of a puppy. “Her name is LeeLee. She’s a six month old Boxer puppy.”

“She’s so cute!” I squeal at the phone. “She’s really ours?”

He nods, smiling at my reaction. “Yeah, the rescue place is dropping her off tomorrow afternoon.”

“This is amazing!” I exclaim before throwing my arms around his neck.

“Well it’s something we always talked about doing. She can keep you company when I’m working,” he says, holding me tightly. “Now let’s go order some food.”

“You mean you don’t have a twelve-course meal, complete with ice sculpture, ready to be delivered via helicopter?” I tease.

Brandon rolls his eyes but lets out a loud laugh as he steers me back inside to the kitchen. “You’d better be careful, or I’ll have to make you do the dishes.”

“Some Hollywood treatment…” I laugh.

***

“I can’t believe you’ve already been gone a week! How’s everything going?” Ashley says. “Give me the grand tour!”

I’ve pulled her up on video chat, and I laugh as she moves her head back and forth, trying to see around me. I change the camera on the tablet and slowly scan the room. “I’m in the living room right now.”

“It’s huge!”

“I know, the whole place is. It’s kind of ridiculous actually. All this space just for the two of us.”

As if on cue, LeeLee barks from her spot; snuggled by my feet.

“Well two people and LeeLee,” I add, scratching her ears. I scan the camera so Ashley can see her too. I already texted her several pictures and a video clip earlier in the week.

Ashley laughs and blows her a kiss. “I can’t wait to come visit!”

“Me either. I miss you like crazy!” I say, flopping back against the couch. “I’m just bored here. Brandon is gone pretty much all day, and most nights he doesn’t get home till really late. It’s been very…different from what I expected.”

“Can’t you go out?”

“Yeah, I’ve gone to a few yoga classes at Brandon’s gym. Honestly, I’ve spent most of my time at the grocery store. The ones here have so many things we don’t have back home, and I’ve been able to try a lot of different recipes to get things ready for my photo shoot. Emelia, the food photographer, is booked till the end of the month, but that’s probably best, because now I’ll have more time to get everything perfect. Downside, I’ve probably gained five pounds eating all my new creations.”

“Well if you have a surplus of pastries you know where you can send them. Always happy to help,” Ashley says, giving me a wink. “Have you met any new friends? Not that I would be jealous or anything…”

I laugh. “No, your title of BFF is nowhere near being in danger. I haven’t really gone anywhere I would meet people. LA is obviously full of things to do, but I guess I just don’t want to go out alone.”

“Well it’s only been a week. I’m sure this is just an adjustment period. It will get better.”

I nod but remain unconvinced. It’s a strange feeling to be in a city with thousands and thousands of people, and to still feel so incredibly lonely. I know I need to put myself out there and meet new people, but the task seems daunting. Living in a small town my whole life did not prepare me to move to a big city and make a whole new group of friends overnight. I’m sure there are people out there who could do that, but unfortunately, I’m finding that I’m not one of them.

I put on a smile for Ashley’s sake, not wanting her to worry. “I’m sure you’re right. I just have to find my niche. That’s all.”

“Exactly! Now let me see this closet you’ve been raving about!” she demands with a smile.

“Cherry! I’m back,” Brandon calls from the other room.

I sigh and look at the time on my phone. Half past ten. I pull myself off the couch and go meet him in the kitchen.

He smiles when he sees me walk in. “Wow! You look great! Give me ten minutes to change and then we can leave,” he says before pressing a kiss to my lips.

I’m wearing the black dress that Ashley helped me pick out when we went shopping. I even went to a fancy hair salon and had my first blowout. My hair is actually straight with just the perfect amount of style and body, but absolutely no frizz. I haven’t been able to stop myself from running my fingers through it most of the afternoon.

“I’m sorry it’s so late. I already called the restaurant. They’re holding our table.” Brandon explains as he starts to strip off his shirt, heading towards the stairs.

“It’s fine,” I say, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. I’ve been waiting at the house, all glammed up, for the better part of four hours. Our initial reservations were set for seven. I was ten minutes away from changing into pajamas and calling it a night, when he texted that he was on his way back. Finally.

A few minutes later, Brandon rejoins me downstairs and we head outside. Tonight is the first night we are really going out somewhere public. Since I got here, we’ve spent the few nights we’ve had together at the house, keeping things low-key. Most nights Brandon has been working late or making appearances at different events, so I don’t see him till I’m already tucked in bed, half asleep. When Brandon originally told me about the reservations for tonight, I was beyond excited at the thought of having a normal date night. By now, four hours of sitting around, suffocating in my Spanx, has killed that excitement for me.

Less than ten minutes later, Brandon runs down the stairs in fresh clothes and I feel a surge of jealousy along with a rush of attraction. It really doesn’t seem fair that all he needs is ten minutes to look that good after I spent hours at the salon getting all done up.

Sigh.

Brandon normally drives everywhere himself, but tonight he has hired his driver, Keith, to come pick us up in some sort of fancy car that I don’t know the name of.

“Ms. McAdams,” he greets me with a slight nod, as he pulls the car door open.

“Hello,” I answer before ducking into the back seat of the car.

Brandon slides in next to me and the door shuts. He places his hand on my bare leg, inching his way up. “Did I mention that I really like this dress?” he asks with a grin.

I laugh softly. “I can tell.”

Damn him for being so sexy. It makes it so much more difficult to stay mad at him.

“So, listen. I want to apologize,” he says, moving his hand from my leg to grab my hand and lock our fingers together. “This isn’t the way I wanted your first week here to go. I know I’ve hardly seen you, and I hate that. I really didn’t think it would be this crazy. I thought we would have more time together. I feel like maybe I’m disappointing you.” He pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. “Like, maybe you think you made a mistake coming here in the first place.”

I’m slightly taken aback by his apology. I was only angry about him being so late. Granted, life in LA has been quite a bit different than I expected, but I don’t want him to read that as disappointment.

“Why would you say that?” I ask. I place my free hand on the side of his face. He turns his face in and kisses my palm. “I knew you wouldn’t be at the house with me twenty-four, seven. I never expected that. Sure, I miss Ashley and my other friends, and God help me, sometimes I even miss my family. But I don’t want you to think that I wish I hadn’t come.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes are focused, as if trying to read my mind.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m happy here…with you.”

Brandon looks visibly relieved, like he’s been carrying a burden that just got lifted from his shoulders. He leans close and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I lay my head against him and close my eyes, breathing him in. The small moments like this are what make this whole transition worth it, moments where it is just the two of us soaking it all in together.

The moment passes all too quickly when we arrive in front of the restaurant. Keith pulls up right out front, and there are small clusters of people scattered all over the place. Some appear to be waiting for reservations, and others look like they are saying good-bye, their meal already over.

Then in a flash, the energy shifts and it feels like a wave of complete chaos. There are cameras going off from every angle, and it almost seems light outside with the constant flashing.

Brandon swears under his breath. I glance at his face and see the frustration furrowed between his brows.

“What’s happening?” I question, my eyes shifting between the scene unfolding outside and the growing concern on Brandon’s face.

“Vultures,” he says.

A moment later there is a couple leaving the restaurant and the people with cameras start chasing after them. I don’t recognize them, but I haven’t really been checked into the whole Hollywood thing the past few years, because I was terrified of opening a tabloid and seeing Brandon’s face on the inside.

“Sir?” Keith says, turning in his seat to face us. “Do you want to leave?”

Brandon shakes his head. “No. I’m not going to let them ruin our night.” He pops open the door and reaches for my hand once he exits. “Come on, Cherry. Let’s go in now, while they’re distracted.”

I nod, feeling completely out of my element. I grab his hand and let him help me from the car. Brandon escorts me in front of him, resting one hand on the small of my back as he starts to guide me towards the front doors.

We weave through the crowd and almost reach the front walkway when someone spots Brandon and the wave comes back in our direction.

“It’s Brandon Hart!” someone in the crowd yells.

There are cameras flashing and people are pushing closer. It’s hard to see but it seems that some people are just fans with camera phones, while other people, the vultures, as Brandon calls them, have photography equipment and appear to be bona fide paparazzi.

The crowd presses in, and I can’t see because of all the flashes from the cameras. There is yelling and screaming. Someone makes a rude comment about Brandon’s movie.

My heart is racing, and I feel sweaty and panicked. My instincts are telling me to turn and bolt back to the car, but I feel Brandon’s arm wrap tightly around my waist. He pushes us forward, seeming to ignore the mob swirling around us. I keep my head down, letting my hair fall in front of my face to shield myself from the cameras and people.

It feels like slow motion, yet somehow, we finally reach the front doors of the restaurant and are greeted by a hostess who holds the doors open for us and ushers us inside. She shoots a scowl at the paparazzi before turning away and letting the door swing shut again.

“Are you okay?” Brandon whispers into my ear.

I nod, blinking rapidly to try and clear the little speckles and spots floating in my vision from the camera flashes. When I can see clearly, I look around the foyer of the restaurant. It is dimly lit and very quiet, compared to the madness that lies just outside the front doors.

Brandon leaves my side long enough to talk to the hostess. There is a flicker of recognition on her face, but she keeps things professional and does not acknowledge him other than to call him Mr. Hart when she offers to lead us to our table. Brandon nods and reaches back for my hand. I take it and hold on tightly as we follow the hostess.

Our table is towards the back of the main dining room. Some people would complain at the location because they cannot see or be seen as easily from this vantage point, yet I know that is probably exactly why Brandon requested a table in the back—to stay away from all of that.

It’s interesting to watch how he handles his sudden fame. The fact that he hasn’t let it change who he is and that he refuses to get tripped up by the highly coveted celebrity lifestyle is testimony to his character.

I study him as we settle into our seats opposite one another and again realize how incredibly thankful I am for second chances.

“That was insane!” I say quietly, once the hostess has walked away from our table.

“Yes, a real treat,” he replies, sarcastically. “Not exactly how I wanted our first night out together to go down. I was really hoping to avoid the circus.”

“Is it always like that?” I ask, slightly afraid to hear the answer.

“No, not always. But more often than I would like,” he answers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

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

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

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

“Okay,” 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 our arrival, 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 to sign a few things and thanks his fans before getting in next to me.

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

“Thanks for being so great tonight. That was not an easy situation.” He presses a kiss to my temple.

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

***

“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, 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!” Her voice is 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 LA. 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, half listening, half 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.” It’s partially true—it took me much longer than normal to fall asleep, and even then, it was a restless sleep, filled with anxiety-riddled dreams.

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

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say.

We say good-bye 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.