doors.
Brandon leaves my side long enough to talk to the hostess. There is a flicker of recognition on her face, but she keeps things professional and does not acknowledge him other than to call him Mr. Hart when she offers to lead us to our table. Brandon nods and reaches back for my hand. I take it and hold on tightly as we follow the hostess.
Our table is towards the back of the main dining room. Some people would complain at the location because they cannot see or be seen as easily from this vantage point, yet I know that is probably exactly why Brandon requested a table in the back—to stay away from all of that.
It’s interesting to watch how he handles his sudden fame. The fact that he hasn’t let it change who he is and that he refuses to get tripped up by the highly coveted celebrity lifestyle is testimony to his character.
I study him as we settle into our seats opposite one another and again realize how incredibly thankful I am for second chances.
“That was insane!” I say quietly, once the hostess has walked away from our table.
“Yes, a real treat,” he replies, sarcastically. “Not exactly how I wanted our first night out together to go down. I was really hoping to avoid the circus.”
“Is it always like that?” I ask, slightly afraid to hear the answer.
“No, not always. But more often than I would like,” he answers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Although I am still a bit shaky inside from the whole mess, I don’t want Brandon to feel worse than he already appears to. “I’m okay. It just caught me off guard a little.”
He stares at me for a moment. “Really? You just got mauled by paparazzi. It’s normal to be pissed off about it.”
I shrug. “It’s all right, really, I’m fine. Let’s just enjoy the night.”
“Okay,” he says, continuing to watch me for a moment longer, before he flips open the menu and starts to look over his options.
I take the cue and start perusing my own menu, trying not to gasp at the prices that seem to get higher and higher as I keep scanning down the list. There are appetizers that cost more than the shoes I’m wearing! Granted, they were purchased on clearance a few years back at an outlet store. But still…this is insane!
We enjoy our incredibly overpriced dinner, and linger over a shared dessert before we decide to try and brave the storm waiting just outside the front doors. The crowd seems to have dispersed slightly since our arrival, but there are still pictures taken and a few fans even ask for autographs. Brandon is silent as he guides me to the car. Once I am safely tucked inside he does stop to sign a few things and thanks his fans before getting in next to me.
In the backseat I slip off my shoes, pull my legs up on the seat, and snuggle into Brandon, releasing a slow exhale.
“Thanks for being so great tonight. That was not an easy situation.” He presses a kiss to my temple.
“Part of the life, right?” I offer him a smile, hoping I look more confident than I feel about the whole thing.
***
“You’re famous!” Ashley squeals into my ear.
“Correction. Brandon is famous. I was just standing next to him,” I say, switching the call to speakerphone, and laying the phone down on the end table next to the couch.
Ashley had called to tell me that one of the entertainment news shows had a story about Brandon and his ’mystery brunette,’ with pictures of us leaving the restaurant last night.
I locate the remote and flip on the TV, but by the time I find the right channel, it’s too late. The spot is already over, the hosts have moved on to the next bit of juicy Hollywood gossip. I flick the TV off again and settle onto the couch. In some ways, I’m glad to have missed it. I’m not sure I’m fully ready to face the reality of seeing my picture splashed all over the screen.
“But you’re with him! You’re part of this world now—all the glitz and glamour!” Her voice is still high-pitched with
Brandon leaves my side long enough to talk to the hostess. There is a flicker of recognition on her face, but she keeps things professional and does not acknowledge him other than to call him Mr. Hart when she offers to lead us to our table. Brandon nods and reaches back for my hand. I take it and hold on tightly as we follow the hostess.
Our table is towards the back of the main dining room. Some people would complain at the location because they cannot see or be seen as easily from this vantage point, yet I know that is probably exactly why Brandon requested a table in the back—to stay away from all of that.
It’s interesting to watch how he handles his sudden fame. The fact that he hasn’t let it change who he is and that he refuses to get tripped up by the highly coveted celebrity lifestyle is testimony to his character.
I study him as we settle into our seats opposite one another and again realize how incredibly thankful I am for second chances.
“That was insane!” I say quietly, once the hostess has walked away from our table.
“Yes, a real treat,” he replies, sarcastically. “Not exactly how I wanted our first night out together to go down. I was really hoping to avoid the circus.”
“Is it always like that?” I ask, slightly afraid to hear the answer.
“No, not always. But more often than I would like,” he answers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Although I am still a bit shaky inside from the whole mess, I don’t want Brandon to feel worse than he already appears to. “I’m okay. It just caught me off guard a little.”
He stares at me for a moment. “Really? You just got mauled by paparazzi. It’s normal to be pissed off about it.”
I shrug. “It’s all right, really, I’m fine. Let’s just enjoy the night.”
“Okay,” he says, continuing to watch me for a moment longer, before he flips open the menu and starts to look over his options.
I take the cue and start perusing my own menu, trying not to gasp at the prices that seem to get higher and higher as I keep scanning down the list. There are appetizers that cost more than the shoes I’m wearing! Granted, they were purchased on clearance a few years back at an outlet store. But still…this is insane!
We enjoy our incredibly overpriced dinner, and linger over a shared dessert before we decide to try and brave the storm waiting just outside the front doors. The crowd seems to have dispersed slightly since our arrival, but there are still pictures taken and a few fans even ask for autographs. Brandon is silent as he guides me to the car. Once I am safely tucked inside he does stop to sign a few things and thanks his fans before getting in next to me.
In the backseat I slip off my shoes, pull my legs up on the seat, and snuggle into Brandon, releasing a slow exhale.
“Thanks for being so great tonight. That was not an easy situation.” He presses a kiss to my temple.
“Part of the life, right?” I offer him a smile, hoping I look more confident than I feel about the whole thing.
***
“You’re famous!” Ashley squeals into my ear.
“Correction. Brandon is famous. I was just standing next to him,” I say, switching the call to speakerphone, and laying the phone down on the end table next to the couch.
Ashley had called to tell me that one of the entertainment news shows had a story about Brandon and his ’mystery brunette,’ with pictures of us leaving the restaurant last night.
I locate the remote and flip on the TV, but by the time I find the right channel, it’s too late. The spot is already over, the hosts have moved on to the next bit of juicy Hollywood gossip. I flick the TV off again and settle onto the couch. In some ways, I’m glad to have missed it. I’m not sure I’m fully ready to face the reality of seeing my picture splashed all over the screen.
“But you’re with him! You’re part of this world now—all the glitz and glamour!” Her voice is still high-pitched with
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