Absolutely Famous(35)

Drew would have a coronary if he knew I was going running by myself in a strange city at 5am. Come to think of it, he’s probably so mad at me right now; he wouldn’t give a crap if I fell into the Thames and floated out to the Atlantic Ocean.

I grab my keycard and slam the door behind me, eager to get the hell out of the confines of the room.

An hour later and I’m no closer to figuring anything out, so here I am at 6:30 in the morning, standing outside movie star Ryker Bancroft’s hotel suite like an idiot, pounding on the door with my fist. I don’t dare call Leah on my possibly tainted phone, so they don’t know that I’m the one making the racket.

An exhausted looking Leah opens the door and I shove her out of the way and shut it, flipping the locks and pulling the chain in place.

“What the heck?” she says sleepily.

“I’m being spied on, Leah. Like for real, honest to goodness listening device in my phone spied on.” I begin pacing the dark room like a maniac.

“Who’s being spied on?” Ryker says from the bedroom door, wearing only a pair of tight blue boxer briefs.

I feel the heat stain my cheeks at his semi-nakedness and turn back to Leah. “Give me your phone,” I demand.

She looks a little freaked out, so she hurries past Ryker and returns quickly with her phone. I type in the CelebCast website and show it to her.

Leah pales, her eyes widening in surprise. Her mouth falls open and I can see her mind attempting to find a logical explanation for the article.

“Holy shit,” she whispers.

Ryker comes stalking over, his usually playful eyes darkening. “Tell me what the hell is happening. Leah, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He turns his sharp gaze to me. “And Syd, you look like shit. What are you looking at on the phone?”

Leah can barely make the sounds loud enough to hear. “Someone is monitoring Sydney’s conversations and putting them on the internet.”

He laughs. “Come on, no way!”

She grabs his arm. “No, it’s true. Sydney told me other things that they’ve printed. It’s always just this one website and it’s always information from private conversations in private places.” Leah sticks her phone under his nose. “This! This is a discussion she had yesterday on the phone with someone while we were in her hotel suite. It was just the two of us. I didn’t tell anyone, she didn’t even leave the room after that. There’s no other explanation, Ry.”

He skims the article and hands her back the phone. Without another word he heads back into the bedroom. We can hear him make a phone call, his low voice barely audible from the living area. He storms back into the room, having thrown on a pair of jeans and holds his hand out.

“Give me your phones,” he demands.

“Why?” asks Leah.

Ryker’s normally boyish face is downright hostile looking, so I drop my phone into his hand. Leah doesn’t know what else to do so she hands her phone to him as well. He turns them both off, adds his own phone to the pile, walks into the kitchen and puts them into the freezer.

We must both be staring at him like he’s lost his mind so he explains. “I called my lawyer in New York, that’s what he said to do. He’s sending someone to talk to us, a former MI6 agent who does private investigative work.” Ryker goes back into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of orange juice, drinking it straight from the bottle.

“Isn’t it 3am in New York?” Leah questions.

“Yep. I pay him a lot,” Ryker says before leaning against the counter and drinking more juice.

“When is he going to be here?” I ask.

“I don’t know, maybe an hour? It isn’t even seven yet.”

“Crap, when is your call time today?” I say to him, forgetting that not everything revolves around me and my bottomless shitbag of problems.

“I’m off today,” he grins.

I turn back to Leah. “I think I’m going to go shower. I’ll be back in an hour.” I turn and whisper to Leah. “I also got the feeling that someone was following me on my run. You know, that creepy sixth sense I get?”

“Syd, this is getting out of control,” she says as she walks me to the door. “You need to tell Drew.”

I shake my head. “Just … just tell Ryker I really appreciate his help,” I murmur softly.

“Sydney, Ryker’s shit is pretty similar to your shit, it’s just a different color. He has hordes, and I mean screaming hordes of women that follow him everywhere and try to tear his clothes off. Literally, tear his clothes off. Sometimes he doesn’t even want to go out.”

I give her a pathetic smile and head back to my room to wait.