“Ladies, ladies,” his bodyguard, Mike, called out. “Mr. Christensen will be signing autographs and providing photo opportunities for one hour.
One photo per guest only please.”
“It’s brilliant! I love you too!” I answered him.
In an instant, a line was formed. Actually the line started forming before Mike even spoke. I looked at my watch, it was almost seven. I filled a large glass with soda and took it over to the poolroom.
“Ms. Mitchell,” Mike greeted me with a partial smile. He had his bulky arms folded across his chest to look even more intimidating.
“Hi Mike! Would you please give this to him for me? Can I get you something to drink too?”
Mike shook his head.
Marie, Cory, and I stood behind the bar, just watching. I noticed how none of the other paparazzi entered my bar, but some other menace did - a reporter.
A well-dressed lady sat at my bar, smiling at me. I glanced down the bar to notice that gap-toothed psycho fan was anxiously standing in line.
“Ms. Mitchell, Sheila Moore from the Celeb Entertainment Network. I was wondering if I might ask you a few questions?” She flashed her shiny, white teeth at me.
“I have no comment,” I answered quickly. “No interviews.”
“Just one question, Honey,” she goaded me. There was only one person on this planet that called me “Honey” and she was not it.
“No,” I said firmly. “Please leave now.”
“You know that attitude is not very good for his career!” She smiled her fake smile at me. I wasn’t falling for her tricks. Like answering her probing questions would be good for his career.
She eyed Marie and I could see the little hamster on the wheel in her brain churn another revolution.
“No, you cannot interview any of my employees either,” I said sharply. “Now I would prefer if you left.” Her eye daggers were confirmation enough of her unhappiness. I really didn’t care. I barely spoke to my closest confidants about my relationship; she was crazy to think I’d spill any details to her.
My attention was diverted when new customers came into the pub. Thankfully it was some of my regular male customers. They were obviously happy seeing the large selection of women. The guys quickly punched numbers into their cell phones; it was the modern day version of sending smoke signals to the other tribesmen.
Ryan’s little plan seemed to be working. As the women got their meet and greet satisfied, they exited right out the door. The crowd was actually thinning. Marie nodded her head in response to seeing some of the girls leave.
It irked me to hear some of the comments these women were making about Ryan. Most were gushing about their encounter with him; how hot he was, how they’d like to “do him” as they put it.
Two young women sat at the bar in front of me, talking about his hair and his dreamy eyes, and how they can’t believe how lucky they got tonight to be at the right place at the right time.
I was washing a few dirty glasses when one of the girls expressed her next observation out loud. She presumed since Ryan was here without Suzanne that they must not be a couple like everyone thought. And since he was out prowling the streets of Seaport (and slumming with the locals), he must be looking for a good time. She felt her odds just increased to getting him. She even came up with a few lines to let him know he could have her. She decided that her “want to come back to my place and have sex?” line was the winner.
A few weeks ago statements like that would have drifted in one ear and right out the other, not affecting me in the slightest bit. But now I felt the burn rip right through my heart. The red tailed beast called Anger welled in me. These women talked about him like he was a thing, an object, a possession to be had. And the thing they desired was the man that I loved.
Marie studied my facial expression for two seconds before concluding that I was almost at the end of my rope.
“Go take a walk. Cory and I have this.” She steered me along by my shoulders.
“I’m going to see how he’s doing, then I’m going up to have dinner with him. I’ll be back a little later.” I couldn’t hide the anger any longer.
He had just about ten minutes left until his hour of people pleasing was over, and there were still about fifteen women in line. Mike smiled at me and moved slightly so I could look in on Ryan. Two girls were chatting up a storm with him, tossing their hair, smiling, and flirting. It made me sick.
Ryan was standing there with his arms folded across his chest, trying to be nice. When he saw me he grinned, ran his finger down his nose, and scratched his chin. It made me laugh.
Two girls to go until curly-haired, gap-toothed Angelica would get her turn. She was definitely looking me up and down, just like the rest of them. I adjusted my shirt, ran my hands over my butt and smirked. Look at that ladies, it’s his favorite part.
Ryan was getting anxious to get this over with; he waved at Mike to let the next one in. Two girls went together to meet him. They were beside themselves – it was like meeting God to them.
Ryan moved away from the table when the two girls left. He stretched and walked over to where I stood.
“Hey you!” He smiled and privately drifted his fingers over mine.
“Hey back!”
He yawned. “I am so done with this. How many more are left?”
I roughly counted. “Twelve. Just finish with them; maybe they’ll leave you alone now.”
He wrinkled his nose and winced. “I’m so hungry. I’m getting a headache.”
“Then make it quick! Dinner is ready when you are.” I tugged on the bottom of his shirt.
Angelica was getting nervous in line; she was shifting her weight from foot to foot. Ryan saw she was next and whispered something into his bodyguard’s ear. Mike unfortunately let Angelica pass. She clutched her little purse in her hand, making me really nervous. I watched her every move, ready to pounce if she tried anything.
She said a few gushing words to Ryan and then started to open her purse. I saw the edge of something silver in her hand; adrenaline coursed through my veins. I was just about to push Mike aside and tackle her when she pulled out a silver camera. Ryan posed with her quickly; now I understood why the photographer was invited along. She looked at the camera and asked for one more picture to be taken but the photographer told her no and moved her along.
Angelica looked distraught when she walked out of the poolroom. I thought she was going to stay inside the bar, so it surprised me when she left the building. Good riddance, psycho.