He trails off, but I complete his unfinished thought. “Before you know it, you forget that all that other stuff doesn’t really matter?”
“It can consume you,” he says in nearly a whisper. “Until you feel like you’re no longer a real person. It’s very isolating.”
I hate myself for ever thinking celebrities have it easier than me, for being so naïve to other people’s struggles and pain.
Not knowing what else to do, I reach for Dylan’s hand across the table. He takes it and holds on.
I try to come up with a light-hearted subject change. “So who are you doing the interview for today?”
“A men’s health magazine.” He turns off his phone and puts it in his pocket. “They’ll probably know very little about how I live my life.”
I don’t know what to say. Doing an interview for your craft sounds so glamorous, and yet I’m learning that I’ve been incredibly naïve to a lot of things regarding Dylan Wild.
“You want to come and watch?” he asks me suddenly.
“What? You mean I can?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Um…okay.” I guess, at the very least, I’ll be able to say I’ve had a bird’s-eye view into the life of a star football player. “Will this be another way to show me off as your date?”
“Only in passing. I don’t want to talk about you in the interview.”
I try to tamp down the twinge of disappointment that runs through me, but Dylan’s watching my eyes. “Jasalie. It’s nothing personal. I never talk about my private life to reporters, and I don’t know this guy at all. I wouldn’t trust him not to twist everything in the article. So the less I tell him, the better.”
The tension leaves my shoulders, and I relax. “I understand. I’ll sit nearby somewhere.”
“Great.” He grins at me. “This way, I can look at you instead of the interviewer. I’m sure he won’t be nearly as gorgeous.”
“Nice try at the flattery, Dylan. Very smooth.”
“Thanks. I’m good, aren’t I?”
“Real good. The best, I’d say.”
* * *
We’ve barely stepped foot into the hotel lobby when a balding, heavyset man, wearing dark-rimmed glasses, rushes up to us and grabs Dylan by the arm. “Where have you been? I’ve called your cell about twenty times! We need to get you into the makeup room—you’re due in the blue room in five minutes!”
He turns to me next. “And you’re Dylan’s date. Fabulous to meet you.”
Dylan steps closer to me. “Tim, this is Jasalie Gordon. Jasalie, this is Tim Schaeffer. My agent.”
Tim looks me over like I’m auditioning for a role in Dylan’s life.
I smile and hold out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Tim.”
Tim shakes my hand and exhales. “You’ll do. You’ll more than do, just like I thought from those first shots of you two outside the restaurant. What happened last night, however—”
“Won’t happen again,” I assure him. “I was caught off-guard. It was dark and late at night, and the paparazzi got a little too close for my liking.”
“Oh, they’re crazy,” Tim agrees. “Dylan has to prepare you better. He needs to make sure you know what you’re in for when you step out in public with him. It’s not for the faint of heart.”
No, being with Dylan Wild is much more challenging than I’d ever anticipated. In every way possible.
“Relax, Tim.” Dylan starts walking toward the elevators, and Tim and I follow him. “Everything will be fine. Where’s the makeup room?”
“We’ve booked two separate rooms on your floor.” We step into the elevator, and Tim presses the button for the eighteenth floor. “They’ve got the makeup and hair stylists in one, and the interview and photo shoot will take place in the other. I already dropped off your clothes.”
