Extremely Famous

By: Heather Leigh

Famous Series 3



Chapter 1




I think I’m going to be sick. Like stomach churning, clutch the toilet, upchuck a lung kind of sick.

In twenty minutes, my father is coming over for dinner. This wouldn’t make most people run for the bathroom to lose their last meal, but most people aren’t me. My dad is Reid Tannen, Hollywood heartthrob and A-list movie star, but that’s not why I’m nervous. The anxiety is due to the fact that I haven’t seen or spoken to my dad in over twelve years.

“Babe, you have to stop freaking out.”

My boyfriend, no my fiancé Drew, has been trying to calm me down for the last half hour. In fact, he’s been trying to calm me down ever since I found out my dad would be in New York this week to go to a premiere for one of his movies and I forced myself to call him to see if he would have dinner with us.

I pace back and forth in front of the big wall of windows in the bedroom for the hundredth time. “You know I can’t.” I make the mistake of looking down at my West Village street. It’s teeming with paparazzi. Shit. That certainly didn’t help to relax me.

Ever since Drew and I got back to New York, we’ve been stalked and hounded by reporters and photographers everywhere we go. The huge eavesdropping scandal involving the studio that produced Drew’s latest movie, went public while we were in London. Since we’ve been back in the U.S. the story has only gotten bigger and more sensational.

It doesn’t help that he’s one of the highest paid actors in the world and I’m Sydney Tannen, the daughter of two movie stars who vanished from the public eye for twelve years, only to reappear on Drew’s arm at a movie premiere.

James Shelton, the head of marketing for the studio, has been arrested by the FBI for violating the Electronic Communications Privacy Act, otherwise known as illegal wiretapping. The case is a giant mess because the recordings occurred in Canada and the U.K. so Interpol is involved. I’m living in a James Bond movie. A really bad, really stressful, paparazzi-infused, James Bond movie.

“Sydney, don’t look at the reporters,” Drew says from behind me. His masculine scent surrounds me and gives me a moment of peace. He wraps his strong arms around my waist and gently turns me to face him. “It’s going to be great, your dad is great.” Drew brushes his warm lips against mine. “You are great.”

I can’t help it, even with the giant ball of barbed wire twisting in my gut he makes me melt.

How did I get so lucky?

Drew is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I would never have given him the time of day if I had known he was one of the most highly recognizable actors in the world when I met him.

Twisting the enormous engagement ring on my finger, I look up at the man I love from under my lashes. He’s so good-looking that it hurts to stare at him for too long. Even the worried expression on his face doesn’t make him any less attractive. No wonder he was named “Sexiest Man Alive”. Twice.

“You’re right, I do need to calm down.” I stalk out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen, a confused Drew hot on my heels.

“Syd,” he warns, realizing exactly where I’m headed.

I’m not sure if it’s nerves or the fact that Drew is practically chasing me to the kitchen while chastising me like I’m a little girl but I burst into a fit of giggles and full-out sprint to the liquor cabinet.

“What the …?” I look back and see a smirk breaking Drew’s concerned expression as he hustles to catch me.

Laughing, I reach the bottle of tequila and snatch it up just as Drew pulls me into his tight embrace. “I just want one shot!” I yell out between giggles.

“You don’t need to do this,” he replies, trying and failing to hold in his own laughter.

“Tell me you’re not nervous too.” I clutch the bottle to my middle in a pathetic attempt to keep him from getting it.

He freezes in place, dropping his arms and letting me go. I stand up straight and stare at his blazing green eyes, worried that I said something stupid and upset him. I watch as Drew slowly turns to the cabinet and grabs two shot glasses, setting them on the granite countertop.

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