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I fucking hate Ben Townsend.
While I’m getting harassed and called a stalker and homewrecker, my asshole ex is playing the victim. Claiming his phone was stolen yet making no comment on the fact that the voicemail is nine years old. By letting everyone believe I’m trying to steal him from his pop-star girlfriend, her loyal fans have gone bat-shit crazy. I’ve lost count on how many death threats I’ve gotten at this point.
I hear my phone buzzing in my purse, but I don’t touch it. I’m guessing the videos people made are already hitting social media. I take a few more minutes, focusing on calming the raging emotions flowing through me before I stand up. Time to face the music. After washing my hands extra well, I splash my face with water, thankful I didn’t wear make-up to further disguise myself. I pull out my toothbrush from my suitcase and give my teeth a quick cleansing as my phone buzzes again.
Once I feel human, I pull out my phone. It immediately starts ringing again. It’s Gage. I look in the mirror, pull in a deep breath and put on my best publicity smile then answer.
“Hey Gage!”
“Jesus, Autumn, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” I should win an Oscar for how smooth and convincing my voice is.
“Then why the hell aren’t you answering your phone? We were about to jump security to get to you.”
“Sorry, I had to duck into the restroom.”
He heaves a relieved sigh. “Are you okay? Really?” His voice is softer this time, worried.
“I’m guessing my little conversation is already viral.”
“On its way. I have alerts set on your name and my phone’s lighting up like a 90’s rave.”
“Just another day in Autumn’s world.”
There’s a pause and I know he’s concerned. My eyes start to sting. Gage and I went to high school together and though we haven’t really seen each other since then, we’ve kept in touch through social media over the years. I needed out of Los Angeles fast after the shit hit the fan, and I’ve heard from others in the industry about how chill Austin is about celebrities in its midst. It seemed like a good place to hide out for a while. I knew Gage and his private security company,Personally Yours, was just what I needed to handle the fallout of my sudden scandal.
“We’re at carousel three,” Gage says, all business. “Jackson is the big guy standing to the right of me. You need to go to him first and make a show of being happy to see him. Wasn’t really planning to start the relationship stuff now, but since eyes are already on you, we have to sell it.”
Not only do I need security, I need to diffuse the stalker-slash-homewrecker rumors and get my reputation back before I’m cancelled. So, I went to Gage about getting a fake boyfriend/bodyguard combo. He agreed it was a good idea, but since he’d fallen in love, he couldn’t be that guy for me. He offered his business partner instead.
“I’m an actor, Gage. I think I can handle a happy homecoming. Just make sure your boy is up to task.”
Gage chuckles. “See you soon, Atwood.”
I hang up and dig into my purse for my emergency make-up bag and put a little on before squaring my shoulders and giving myself one last look. Satisfied that I look ready for a reunion with my boyfriend, I grab my carry-on and leave the restroom.
Thankfully, the earlier crowd has dispersed. Not that I believe for one minute they’ve forgotten about me. I get to the escalator down to baggage claim. I scan the crowd below, looking for Gage. I haven’t seen him in person in so long, but I know from pictures that he’s only gotten hotter. I’d developed a small crush on him during his years in the military, but that was solely based on the shirtless photos he posted. The Army did him well, that’s for sure.
An arm raises and waves and I see that it’s Gage. Yep, just as handsome as his pictures. I move my gaze over to the man standing next to him — my fake boyfriend.
Holy hell.
My heart takes off, beating double time as I soak him in. Gage is tall, but this man has a good two or three inches on him. His shoulders are broader, his chest thicker. His black hair is short, but slightly longer and styled on top. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and it fits him perfectly. Tight across his chest and biceps, but loose enough to not look like he’s showing off. I see a hint of ink on his soft brown skin peeking out of the sleeve of his shirt that immediately piques my curiosity. I move my gaze to his face and a jolt of heat hits me as I realize he’s staring at me intently. I can’t make out his features clearly from here, but he’s got a strong jaw that has more of a five o’clock shadow than a full beard. Then there’s his eyes. I don’t know what color they are, but they aren’t brown. I can practically see them glitter from here.
I wrack my brain to find an actor comparison for him. It’s what I do when I meet new people, find an actor or character that they remind me of, either in looks or personality. But no one is jumping out at me. No, this man is definitely all his own. And I don’t know what to do with that.
You act like you do, Autumn.
I swallow my sudden nervousness and paste a huge smile on my face.
Show time.
2
JACKSON
This is a mistake.
