It was safe to say I no longer recognized my life. Just when I’d started to expand my security bubble, I wound up with bodyguards. Wild.
Garrett had spent the majority of Sunday in meetings. Another large helicopter had delivered security people, the band’s manager and her assistant, their PR person, and lots of packages. Garrett, Smith, and the business folk disappeared into the office in the basement. I don’t know what time the meeting finished. The assistant came up to fetch food and drinks a couple of times. But otherwise . . . nothing.
Eventually, I gave up and went to bed. When I woke for work, Garrett was curled around me, fast asleep. And all the while, the collection of media and fans at the gate kept growing. It was a lot to get my head around.
“If he hadn’t pulled a Houdini and disappeared for two years, they wouldn’t be so worked up,” said Cézanne, sipping a decaf. “Not that he wasn’t doing what was necessary to look after himself and deal with his grief. You know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean.”
“On the plus side, you look great.”
“Thanks.”
The bulk of the packages had been supplies for me. Whoever had organized same had not stinted on the spending. I had enough tampons and period products for the next year, three different skincare routines, a makeup collection to rival a Kardashian’s, and over a dozen different outfits ranging from suitable for work to walking the red carpet, with underwear and accessories to match. Today, I was wearing an Alexander McQueen white ribbed halter-neck tank top, baggy blue jeans, and dark gray Chucks. It was ridiculous. I had to be the most expensively dressed grocery store clerk ever. I’d always wanted to be bougie, but never had the cash. Now was my time to shine.
When I had pointed out yesterday that one of the security people could have just gone next door and grabbed some of my stuff, Garrett smiled and said, “I like spoiling you. Get used to it.”
All of a sudden, Cézanne’s cell started beeping its heart out. She pulled it out of her purse with a sigh. “I set up an alert for your name.”
“Shit.”
A couple of media types had been in this morning for coffee. Neither had shown any interest in me until they noticed the bodyguards. The situation was its own self-fulfilling prophecy. At least the place was doing a roaring trade with all of the extra people in town.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“They’ve got an old shot of you and Chad together,” said Cézanne. “Which leads me to believe he’s the asshole who spilled the beans.”
I just shrugged.
“‘Small-town girl heals Garrett’s broken heart,’” said Cézanne. “Nice headline. They’ve only got your name and a brief rundown. The name of the town and where you work. About what you’d expect. Nothing too interesting yet.”
“Don’t read the comments.”
“Oh hell no.”
“Hey! Get away from me,” shouted an irate young woman. She was being escorted to the door by Van. Her cell was pointed in my direction. Guess the picture of The Dead Heart on her tee kind of gave her interest away.
“And so it begins,” intoned Linda.
Ugh. “I understand if you’d rather I take some time off. If you wanted to find someone else to work the counter during the weekdays. At least for a little while.”
“We’ve already been over this.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No.” Linda waved the idea away, making her silver bangles clatter and clink. “You run this place. I only show up to drink a few pots of tea and visit with people. And that’s the way I like it. Unless of course you’re needing some time off to deal with all of this?”
I tried again. “No, but—”
“Van,” she said. “I really feel like we need to explore your past lives more thoroughly. There are answers to be found there, I think.”
The big man just nodded. “Whatever you say, ma’am. Just a little busy right now.”
“Later is fine. And Ani, there’ll be some of this boloney for a while, but so what? Eventually they’ll move onto something new.” Linda smiled benevolently. “The farmers and various suppliers all like dealing with you. There’s no way I’m learning how to use that accounting software, either. No, thank you. You’ll just have to stay.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. I’ve weathered storms before, dear. I believe if anything, they make life more interesting.”
Cézanne just kept sipping on her decaf. “This should definitely be interesting.”
My sudden fame/infamy wore thin by closing time. Though we had sold out of baked goods, bottled water, and other various items due to people making excuses to see me in the flesh. To take creeper shots with their cells. That sort of thing. All of the interest in me for bedding down with Garrett was beyond bizarre. Josh had hung out for a while, enjoying himself immensely. He tried charging tourists five dollars for a selfie. However, people lost interest fast when they found out the selfie was with him and not me.