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“You have a girlfriend?”
And now I’m getting annoyed. I’m standing right here. “Yes. And actually, we’re running late. We need to go.”
“We just wanted to tell you how good you were up there.” Ben steps in to give me a hug.
Rogue’s hand never leaves my back.
“You were fantastic.” Dizzy nods though her eyes have narrowed. Then she bounces up and down, clapping her hands. “Ooh, what if we double date?”
“Next time,” Rogue says. “Why don’t you and Ben organize it, Ivy? And we’ll hang out.”
“Great,” Ben says.
“Yes, great,” I echo. “It was nice to meet you, Dizzy.”
Even if she tried to hit on my boyfriend in front of a friend whose happiness I care about. She’s probably starstruck though. I did run into a wall twice, because I was starstruck. I should probably get used to it. Dizzy Sunshine won’t be the last fangirl to hit on my boyfriend.
“We should hurry.” Rogue ushers me toward the exit once we’ve said our goodbyes. He pushes open the doors to the outside world.
Camera flashes light up the evening sky as we step onto the top of the stairs. I automatically move behind him, sheltered by his back, and drop my head so that my hair swings across my face while I dig in my bag for a pair of shades that will hide a good part of my face.
We figured there would be cameras here since several bridal magazines were running articles about the event on their websites. A small group of press with their passes on lanyards around their necks had hurried down aisles and knelt in front of the stage to take photos during the performance. Grabbed sound bites from Danica and Adira in the hallway after.
These guys are different. They aren’t wearing lanyards. They aren’t being polite. They huddle together, jockeying for the best position, snapping photo after photo. Some of them call out to Rogue. Some of them call out to the mystery woman; me.
I’ve hidden behind Nicole or Alec enough times to be able to tell the difference between the press invited to an event and the paparazzi who come across a celebrity sighting.
“Shit. Someone must have told them I was here.” He turns into a living, breathing stone wall.
Unfortunately, I think I know who. It had to be Nathaniel. He took one look at Rogue and knew he’d never have another chance to get close to me. He probably wanted to get back at Rogue for getting in his way. There are only two scenarios that I could never recover from though.
That Rogue won’t forgive me for what I have to do.
And Alec will realize that I won’t let him get away with what he’s doing.
The crowd swells as running steps echo off the concrete.
Rogue squeezes my hand and murmurs over his shoulder, “Are you okay, baby?”
I knew it would happen sooner or later. Photographers would want pictures. Once word got out that Rogue Maddox was dating someone, the paparazzi would start hunting for the answers to that all important piece of gossip; who is she?
I was hoping it would be later, but if Nathaniel thinks this will scare me away from Rogue because of how much I hate being in the spotlight he’s going to have to try harder.
Sliding the shades up my nose, I step into the crook of his arm and keep my face turned from the inquisition. This isn’t my first run through the Thunderdome. How many times have I hid in the back of photos that some media hound took at Nicole’s insistence? Or because people have seen Alec? How many parties have I been at that have ended up in the society pages? How many times have I hid behind decorations and pillars and oversized flower arrangements? Or my hand or a program or… pretty much anything? The answer is a lot. Too many.
I have my disappearing act down to an art. The only difference is now I’m a person of interest. Chances of avoiding their curiosity are probably nil. Still… deep breath. “Can we get out of here? My car is around the other side of the building.”
“Oh hell no, you’re not taking that death trap. There’s no telling how far these jackasses will go to get the money shot,” he murmurs. “I want you in something safe with airbags and a roll cage. But we have to go through them to get to mine.”
“Whatever it takes.”
“Keep your face to my chest,” he murmurs in my ear as we take our first step toward the group. “Let me deal with this.”
“Rogue Maddox, is this your girlfriend?” someone calls out.
“What does it look like?” he says with sarcasm and humor.
Please don’t tell them who I am. Please don’t say my name. My pulse is racing. Chances are that if he tells them who I am they won’t know straight away. They wouldn’t expect to find the sister of his enemy at the end of their lenses. Especially when she’s put so much effort into staying invisible. Literal years. But there’s so much risk.
