Page 138 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
In the lobby, we meet up with Craig and Damon and we follow them to the SUV. Aside from a few interested glances, no one pays us any mind, and it makes me that much more excited for the day. Maybe we’ll be able to enjoy it without cameras flashing.
The drive to our first destination takes longer than I expected, considering the location of the apartment-style hotel where we’re staying. Twenty minutes to drive less than two miles thanks to traffic and pedestrians. Not even LA is this bad, and I hate driving in LA.
“I’ll drop you at the back with Craig,” Damon says from the driver’s seat. “I’ll park.”
Then he grumbles something to himself about parking the SUV in the city, and I catch Craig smirking. I don’t envy that task, either.
An adorable diner comes into view, a line of people already waiting to get in, and I shoot up in my seat and turn a manic smile on Torren.
“I know this place. I’ve heard about it.”
Torren grins. “Next time I’ll show you more local favorites, but we’re going full tourist mode today.”
I unbuckle my seat belt as Damon pulls into an alley beside the diner and as soon as he puts the car in park, I hop out. I don’t even wait for Craig to get the door for me. Torren climbs out behind me and I can’t tame my smile. It’s only 9:30 and this is already one of the best days I can remember in a long time. Not as good as Constance Chen, but fucking close.
I open my mouth to tell Torren, but my words are swallowed by shouting. When I turn around, my excitement plummets to my feet and is replaced by panic.
The sound of cameras clicking blends with the invasive questions hurled in our direction as we’re swarmed by people. Bypaparazzi. I don’t have time to blink. I don’t even have time to shut my gaping mouth; I’m frozen like an animal in a trap, and each question is worse than the last.
Callie, how do you feel about Torren and Sav in the bathroom?
What do you have to say about the PR relationship claims?
What was the five grand for? How much is he paying you?
Is this another of Wade Hammond’s schemes?
Is this a sham to distract the public?
Is Sav using again?
Is the band on the verge of break up?
My head spins. My stomach churns, bile rising in my throat, and then Torren wraps his arms around me and all but throws me into the back seat of the car, slamming the door closed behind us.
“Drive, Damon,” Torren barks.
“I’m fucking trying.” Damon honks the horn and inches the car forward as paparazzi press close to the hood, angling their cameras to try and get a photo through the non-tinted windshield.
“Jesus Christ. They’re fucking crazy.” Craig cracks the window. “Get out of the way! You’re gonna get yourselves killed.”
Damon honks again, this time laying on the horn in one continuous blare until we’re finally able to turn onto the street. But even then, fucking traffic hinders a swift getaway. By the time the cameras are behind us, I’ve got my head dropped between my knees, trying to calm my panic, and Torren is yelling into his cellphone.
“We were just fucking swarmed, Ham. Swarmed! You said it would be discreet.”
He pauses, and then groans.
“Fucking hell. Why didn’t you warn us?”
Another pause.
“Fuck!”
He groans again, and when I sit up, he has his hand fisted in his hair and he’s glaring at the ceiling, fuming over whatever Hammond is telling him. He grits his teeth, sharp jaw popping and nostrils flaring as he shakes his head.
“No...I get it. Just...how bad is it? Yeah. Send it. We’ll be back in twenty.”
Torren hangs up, then opens a text message. I watch his eyes as they scan whatever he’s reading, and I can tell from the growing fury that it’s bad. Really bad.
