Page 41 of My Charming Rival (Stars In Their Eyes 1)
“Kind of, yeah. But it’s true. I follow people. You follow people. What’s the difference? Neither of the people we follow wants to be followed.”
“Nobody wants to be followed, William! But the people I follow are celebrities. So it’s fair game. You played me, so I’ll see you later,” she said, holding up her hand like a stop sign, then turning her back to me as she began to walk off.
As if it were happening at a rapid-fire pace, I saw my future crater as the distance between us grew with each step she took. The letter from the State Department loomed in front of me, like a red countdown clock blaring out the remaining days, hours, minutes. I had one job prospect and I had to do whatever I could to keep it afloat. Jess was my way in. She was the only lead in my grasp for the field work James had me chasing. Without her, I’d have nothing for James on how the paparazzi worked, and I needed that for his client. I couldn’t lose Jess or I’d be leaving on a jet plane for the homeland in two months, and the prospect of dreary old England was a lead weight in my stomach. I desperately needed Jess, but I also had something tantalizing to offer her.
“Wait,” I shouted as she reached the curb. “Jess, please wait.”
“Why?” she asked, barely acknowledging me.
I raced to her and placed my palms together, a plaintive plea for her to forgive me for lying.
“What I’m trying to say is I truly am sorry, and I want to make it up to you. And I have a way to make it up to you.”
She scoffed, and started to walk off. “Right. Sure.”
“I just told you my uncle runs a security firm. His firm is handling the Bowman-Belle wedding. I can get you into the wedding.” I gulped, but moved on quickly, because she’d say yes, she’d surely say yes, right? “If you’ll be my date.”
18
Jess
My jaw dropped. It likely clanged on the sidewalk with a loud crashing din because that’s how shocked I was.
There was no way he’d just said the most beautiful, wondrous words. Not the be my date part. But the get you into the wedding words. Because those were magical. Those were the keys to the medical school kingdom.
I stared at him, studying his face for clues. Was he tricking me? Playing me again? Were his eyes lying to me? Those gorgeous gray storm clouds seemed honest and true. I didn’t try to be tough or cool. Instead, I let down my guard. I wanted this. I needed this. “You can? For real?”
“Yeah,” he said, and nodded a few times. “James is having me handle some of the desk work, records and stuff, so I’ll be at the wedding. I can sneak you in.”
“You’ll be at the wedding?” I asked again because this felt too good to be true.
Which meant there was no way it could be true.
“Yes. I’m helping him to keep track of the list because we’re using a new app that matches pictures of faces to the guest list, and I set it up for him. I’ll get your name on the list as a wedding guest. I’ll be there and he asked a few of us to make sure we blend in by having dates. Once all the guests have checked in, he wants us to appear as if we’re guests as well, so the other guests feel more comfortable.”
I’d heard about that app. It was being tested by a few event planners who had raved about it, but it wasn’t well known or widely used yet. “Right, they don’t want to feel like their every move is being watched by security. But what’s the name of the app?” I asked, jutting out my chin as I tested him.
He rattled off the name, and as he said it, a layer of doubt peeled away from me. Underneath it, the shimmering possibility of no longer crashing, but feasibly attending, the wedding of the century bubbled up. Still, I wanted to be certain. “You’re not playing me? You can really sneak me in?”
“I’m not. I swear I’m not and we have to be super careful, but I can definitely get you in, under the radar.”
I lifted my chin. “Where’s the wedding?” I was tense all over as I waited for him to answer. If he said Malibu, I was gone.
“Ojai Ranch. Chelsea Knox’s home. Saturday. Two p.m. In her backyard. In between the pools.”
Excitement roared through my veins as he said all the right words. His answers matched Anaka’s info. This changed everything. If William was willing to help me get into the wedding, then I didn’t care that he’d played me. Because he wasn’t truly a player—he was the reformed bad boy, and boy did I like that archetype. “I think I’m in love with you,” I said, then impulse took over and I leaned forward, placed a palm on his cheek, which was the tiniest bit stubbly, which was the biggest bit sexy, and planted a kiss on his other cheek.
