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Boyfriend.
Yup, just thought that. And I guess since we’re going public with our relationship, it would be safe to say he is my boyfriend. Sure, I agreed weeks ago, but it took this moment to make it real.
Once the receptionist composes herself, she shows us to a secluded room in the back corner of the office. The photographer is already set up. We jump right in, posing for a series of pictures, one of which will grace the cover of the issue our article will be in.
An hour later, the photographer is excusing himself and in walks Tinsley Townsend.
That’s probably not her real name considering everyone calls her Tinseltown. Not sure how she got it but I’m guessing it’s because of all the dirt she’s dug up on some of the biggest celebs over the years.
“Sorry I kept you waiting,” she says as she takes a seat on the black leather couch opposite the one Eli and I are seated on. The entire room is decorated in black and white. From the furniture to the art on the walls. There’s not an ounce of color to be seen. In fact, Tinsley is dressed in black and white herself. “Let me start by introducing myself. My name is Tinsley Townsend. I’m the editor in chief here atGossip Vulture. I won’t lie, I was a little surprised you were interested in an exclusive interview after the article we ran.”
I didn’t read the article. There were five all together before that first day was over, more since then. Probably even some I don’t know about. The reason we choseGossip Vultureover the others is because they have the largest following. Better newsstand sales. Better online readership. Which also meant they would offer the most.
“I’ll be honest with you,” I start, leaning forward, “I don’t like speculation. I prefer to let the truth speak, and since no one knows the truth, I thought it would be a good idea to get it out there.”
“Does that mean you’re ready to share with me who you are? Because the biggest missing piece from our source was your identity. They refused to give it to us.”
“That’s because Celia isn’t a very good snitch,” I state, relaxing back against the couch and taking Eli’s hand in mine.
“And how did you know who my source was?” she asks, her eyes never leaving mine. A surprise since Eli is in the room. Most of the time women can’t keep their eyes off of him, no matter how hard they try.
“There was only one person with the opportunity to take one of those photos. Also, you just confirmed my suspicions.”
Her eyes widen in surprise slightly before she regains her composure, clearing her throat.
“Why don’t we get started? I’m going to ask you both a series of questions and record our session, so I don’t have to take notes.” Setting her phone on the glass table between us, she hits the record button and continues, “This is Tinsley Townsend. I’m here with Eli Simms and his girlfriend. This is an exclusive interview that will be printed inGossip Vultureissue number seven-one-seven. Thank you both for being here.”
“You’re welcome,” Eli and I say in unison.
“First off, I have to say, the pictures of you two are adorable. You can see how strong your connection is. How long have you two been seeing each other, Eli?”
“A little over two months, give or take.”
“So, the picture on the beach … how long had you been together at that point?”
“We weren’t yet. She was playing hard to get.” Eli let’s out a little chuckle.
“That’s interesting. Is there a reason she wasn’t falling for your charm like all the others?”
The others. She’s trying to rattle me. If that’s her plan, she may want to try harder.
“Probably because she could see through all the bullshit.” He pauses and looks at me. When I nod, a sign he can start dropping hints, he continues, “This isn’t her first Hollywood rodeo. She’s been around this world her entire life.”
“Is that so? Care to elaborate on that?” Tinsley asks, turning her body to face me so it’s clear her question is directed at me.
“Sure. I grew up around movie sets. I traveled all over the world with my mother. Being around famous people is not new to me.”
“Really? And who is your mother?”
She took the bait, as we knew she would.
“Brenda Rush.”
Her swift intake of breath is loud enough I’m sure she’ll hear it on her recording when she listens to the playback later.
“Which makes you …” her voice trails off. She needs me to say the words to confirm my identity.
“Taylor Rush.”
