Page 28 of Nathan
“Brace yourself. There are a lot of reporters and photographers waiting outside. Did you get my text message?”
“No.”
Marie stepped to the side to let Tadhg pass her with the cart. “I sent you a heads up that it’s more than a little crazy out there.” With a troubled expression on her face, Marie looked over her shoulder. Outside, photographers had their cameras pointed at us, snapping pictures.
“It’s not so bad. I’m sure the press just wants a good photo.”
“It’s not just photographers. People are gathering up and down the street.”
“Don’t worry. It’s the usual bystanders who were passing by and got curious to see what celebrity the photographers are waiting for. I’ll just do what I always do; smile, wave, and get into the car.”
Marie didn’t look convinced. “The hotel staff had to ask the press to stay outside, and it got tense with some shouting before you came down. I’ve tried reaching someone back home for guidance because I think we need to increase security for you, but of course, with the time difference, they’re all sleeping now.”
“Let’s not make a big deal out of this,” I said in my most poised tone.
“That’s a little late. The marketing department is going to be beside themselves if the gossip columns keep mentioning that you’re currently on a press tour forThe Blue Doorknob.”
“Why? I thought we were doing this to get publicity. Looks like they got more than they expected.”
Marie’s eyes hardened. “We’re promoting a children’s movie. A sexual scandal is hardly good publicity.”
Her judgment threw me off and made me suck in a breath. Like the rest of the world, Marie didn’t know that I’d slept alone every night while the world reveled in the fictional fairy tale romance between Storm and me.
I wasn’t here to explain myself to her; I turned on my heel. “I think we have a plane to catch.”
Just before I walked out, Tadhg came toward me. “Have a pleasant trip, Miss Star,” he said with a sympathetic smile.
I dug into my purse and fished out a generous tip for him. Pressing it into his hand, I looked into his eyes. “Thank you for making me laugh today. You have a beautiful name.”
Tadhg’s Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed before giving me a toothy smile.
It was the last smile I saw before I walked out the door to meet a storm of questions.
The hotel security had set up a barrier, and the Irish press were polite enough to stay behind it as they shouted at me.
“What’s your comment on the photos of you cheating on Storm?”
“Can you tell us the name of the man you kissed last night?”
“Are you and Storm still together?”
“Have you talked to Storm?”
“Did you apologize?”
“How long have you had an affair with the man in the photos?”
I kept my head high and pretended that the large number of people shouting rude questions at me didn’t bother me one bit. Marie was right behind me when I aimed for the backseat of the black SUV without answering a single question. The driver held the door open and closed it as soon as I was inside, but that didn’t stop the photographers from coming around the car and pushing their lenses against the windows. It made me look straight ahead with a stoic expression. I wouldn’t give these vultures a picture of my sadness. They would interpret it as guilt that I’d cheated on Storm when in reality, the only guilt I felt was toward River for taking part in a scheme that had hurt her.
I couldn’t sit down with journalists and tell my side of the story. Everyone in Hollywood knew that spilling the beans on the marketing strategies that involved fake couples and made-up scandals would be professional suicide.
We were a business of magicians, creating an escape for ordinary people through illusions on and off the screen. Denise had often reminded me that an actor’s job was to delight the audience with intense experiences that they could never have in real life. That had been my motivation when I went through grueling diets and workout regimes to play action movies. How else would I make the audience buy in to the idea that I could single-handedly beat up opponents much bigger than me?
I waited a long minute for Marie to get into the passenger seat and for the driver to take his place before we could head to the airport.
My phone felt like a bomb when I picked it up with a queasy feeling and scrolled down over the many messages from Denise, Marie, and others.
Opening Twitter, I thought about what to write to my followers. It took me a while, but finally, after twenty minutes as we reached the airport, I was satisfied and pressed post.
