The Trouble with Marrying a Movie Star
Read The Trouble with Marrying a Movie Star Online
Authors: ZN Willett
The Red Carpet Series
The Trouble with Marrying a Movie Star is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Z.N. Willett
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Jada D’Lee Designs
Cover Images by: iStockphoto / Alphavisions ©
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©
Book design by Integrity Formatting
Editing by Donna Wolosin
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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author. Except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Z. N. Willett
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Thank you to my loyal readers for always supporting my work
Flashes of bright lights so blinding, that when you close your eyes, all you see is bursts of light under your lids. Your ears begin to ring, as they try to decipher the loud voices that are screaming and yelling at you, until everything becomes a mumbled blur.
Even though I could feel Andrew's hand as he pulled me through the crowd of paparazzi, at moments, I felt enclosed and alone. I felt somewhat alarmed by the frenzy of reporters that we had to walk past as we hurried to the ticket counter. I struggled to look up as camera flashes continued to assault my senses. This is what it feels like to have your picture taken without your consent—not knowing where it was going, or what they would do with it. Usually, it is a family member or friend on the other side of the lens. They capture a place, or time in your life that means something. You can always veto a lousy picture if you want, or laugh at the ones that have been taken. But this felt…wrong.
As we approached the counter, there was a woman in a red jacket that instantly greeted us. "I called security, Mr. Hughes." Andrew nodded, and greeted her with a handshake.
"Thank you. My Security Director wanted to leave someone with us, but I insisted that we would be fine." Andrew looked at me apologetically. "My girlfriend has caused quite a stir," Andrew said, squeezing my hand tightly as he tried to make light of the situation.
She nodded in understanding. "Let’s get you two checked in, and I will escort you to the plane." She signaled to someone behind us. "It looks as if security has arrived."
I turned and saw four large men in uniform. One stood directly behind us while the other three directed the paparazzi to stay back.
Andrew asked for my passport and the agent checked us in. You could hear the shutters of the cameras capturing this mundane act. I turned my head, getting a better look at the men. When we had first stepped out of the taxi, I had shielded my eyes from the blinding lights as Andrew stressed to keep my head down. "Don't look at them, say nothing!" he shouted as he guided me along.
My anxiety grew at that thought, and suddenly, I felt light-headed. "Andrew…"
He turned his head, seeing my distress, and came to me immediately. "Andria, what is it?"
His eyes showed so much concern. Sadly, I wanted this…well, not
this
per se, but I had pushed for Andrew and me to be a
real
couple. Yet, I started to wonder if I might have bitten off more than I could chew.
"Hey Andria?" Keira shouted from the entrance of my suite. I heard the door close.
"In here."
She walked into the bedroom. "You have a visitor coming up."
I stopped writing, and looked up confused. "Do you know who it is?"
She shrugged. "He said that he was a friend of Wade’s and was asked to stop by."
"Okay? It's weird that Wade hasn't mentioned anything to me."
"It probably just slipped his mind," she said exiting, and quickly turned back around. "Oh, and that crowd of people who I saw in the lobby of our hotel in London—they weren't there for that event like I had originally thought. They were paps and reporters looking for Andrew."
"How…"
"It was on the local news this morning. Apparently, your relationship has gone global. You may want to give your family a call," she said sympathetically.
"Thanks, I'll call—" There was a knock on the door. "After I see what this guy wants."
I answered the door and was greeted by a tall slender man, with long brown messy hair who was snarling at me. "Is
that
how you answer the door?" he hissed out.
"Excuse me?"
"You didn't ask who was at the door. Did you even look through the peep-hole?" he asked, and crossed his tattooed arms.
I crossed mine. "Who are you?"
"Exactly, Andria. I know who
you
are, but you don't know who I am."
What was this guy's problem?
"Look, I have a lot of things to do, so, if you want to interrogate yourself…" He walked past me uninvited. "Hey! I don't care if you
are
so-called friends with Wade; I'm going to call security—"
He turned around with a Cheshire grin splayed on his face. "I
am
security," he said, as he stood staring me down.
"Whatever. Look, I'm going to make that call—"
"Go ahead. Like I said, I am security. Actually, I'm
your
security."
It was a standoff. I didn't know what to say next, so I said, "I’m going to call Wade."
"You do that." He walked over and made himself comfortable on the sofa.
Wade picked up after the first ring. "Bonjour, Andria. How's Pareee?"
"Some guy is here and says he knows you."
"Do you mean Connor?"
I looked over at the man who was now snooping around the suite. "Is your name Connor?"
"You should have asked me that before opening the door."
Jerk.
"That's Connor," Wade laughed out. "He's your new bodyguard."
"What? I never asked for a bodyguard."