Centre Stage (Lies for a Living Book 2) by Lissa Bilyk

Author:Lissa Bilyk [Bilyk, Lissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lissawrites
Published: 2017-05-12T18:30:00+00:00

That night we made love the old-fashioned way: passionately, easily, fitting together like we’ve fit together a hundred times before. I was surprised by how much I needed the comfort. I had work the next day and Cameron was often up for a run early in the morning, so we tried not to stay up late and pay for it the next day.

We left the apartment together after a fruit smoothie for him and a more substantial breakfast for me, and made our way to the foyer. The early shift receptionist, Roxanne, a black-haired beauty with red lipstick who never made eyes at Cameron, waved to us cheerfully. I wished I was a morning person.

Outside, with the skies overcast and heavy with the promise of a final snowfall, just beyond the black security gates, a dozen people waited armed with cameras.

As soon as we set one foot outside, a cry went up. A dozen cameras raised to a dozen faces, a dozen flashes blinded me. Cameron acted quickly, swinging me around to cover my face; but there wasn’t much he could do. He was in his winter workout gear, a skin-tight neck to wrist and hip to ankle running suit, while I had my hair back in a no-nonsense bun and wore my business clothes.

“Cameron!” the paparazzi called.

“Is that your girlfriend?”

“Are you married?”

“Are you pregnant?”

“Cameron!”

“What’s her name?”

“Readers are desperate to know!”

“How long have you been seeing each other?”

Overwhelmed, I let Cameron lead me back inside and sit me down while Roxy bought me a drink of water. My knees felt weak. I’d lost my virginity to Cameron, but I’d never quite felt so vulnerable and exploited as that moment, not even when I’d seen my grainy, badly-lit photo in the very magazines the paparazzi outside shot for.

“How the fuck did they find out where I lived?” Cameron wondered, running his hands through his golden-brown hair and tugging it straight up. “I’ve been here for two years without an incident.”

“Do you want me to call the police?” Roxy asked, concerned.

“No, they’ll go away when they think we aren’t coming out.”

“The car,” I said. “Cam, someone followed us home yesterday, remember?”

Roxy put a hand to her mouth. Cameron balled up his fist and punched the flat of his other hand.

“They followed us from your audition,” I added.

Cameron ran his hands through his hair again. “Who on earth knew where I was?”

Besides his agent Caroline, the people auditioning him, and myself, no one.

Cameron decided not to go running that morning. Luckily, I could escape via the elevators to the underground car park and avoid the paparazzi by taking Cameron’s Jag with its tinted windows. I realised with a painful jolt that I might have to get rid of my little Bombalurina, the unreliable car I’d been driving since I moved to London. There was no point in tinting her windows: she simply wasn’t worth it. Instead, I’d have to fork out for a whole new car – or at least a trade-in, and I wasn’t sure I could.

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