Come A Little Bit Closer (The Sullivans #7)(70)

The paper crumpled in Smith’s hands as Tatiana said, “I don’t want Valentina to see this. She’ll freak out.” Both of them knew what a major understatement that was. “But if it’s already in this magazine, that means every major entertainment show and blog is bound to pick up the story by this afternoon. I just don’t know how we can keep her from seeing it.”

Twenty-four hours, thought Smith. Had that really been too much to ask?

Yes, since last night, it felt like they’d come a long way from the point at which he and Tatiana had finished filming the sex scene. But was it far enough for Valentina to trust that they could get past this kind of crap, especially with the echo of her saying, “I can’t imagine anything worse than being in the spotlight,” ringing in his ears?

Or would this headline, along with a picture of the two of them from the very first time they’d held hands in public, only confirm every single one of her fears about how hard her life would be with him?

“I know how much Val cares about you,” Tatiana said as she put her hand on his arm in what he knew was supposed to be a reassuring manner. “I mean, she hates stuff like this, but you guys are so great together.”

Valentina was coming back into the kitchen with the earrings in her hand, saying, “Sorry, I thought I gave them back to y—” when she looked between the two of them and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

There was no point in pretending it hadn’t happened, or trying to hold off the truth any longer. Smith held out the paper to her. “This.”

He slid his hand into Valentina’s as she read the article, all the way through the part about how “confidential sources” said not only couldn’t he keep his hands off Tatiana, but he was also having double the fun with the older sister who managed the business side of her career.

Tatiana’s voice shook as she said, “I know we can’t control this kind of stuff, but it’s not fair if it hurts you, Val, not when you haven’t signed up for this life like we have.”

Fair. Smith knew there wasn’t much that was fair about Hollywood, or the world that revolved around it.

“But,” Tatiana added, “once everyone realizes the two of you are actually together and that Smith and I are just working on this movie, I’m sure this will all blow over and everything will be okay.”

Maybe Tatiana was right about that, Smith thought, but even if she was, it meant the spotlight would turn entirely on Valentina.

Valentina hadn’t yet said a word, and that was what worried him most of all. Because if this had just been a picture of him and Tatiana, while he knew she wouldn’t have been at all thrilled about the false story, he had a feeling she would have been trying to comfort her sister the way she normally did.

Smith had spent so long trying to convince himself that he had control over this crazy circus life, that even as he could feel it all crumbling down around him, he told Valentina, “We make up stories to tell to the world in movies and TV shows and plays and books. These people are doing the same thing.”

The big difference, of course, was that the characters in his movies were pretend, whereas the photographers and blogs were playing with real lives. His life and Tatiana’s had been fair game for a while now.

Now, Valentina’s was, too. Because of him.

He’d known that once she’d agreed to be with him, at some point the press would want to know more about her. But he hadn’t thought it would come this soon.

Or be anywhere near this ugly.

Finally, Valentina spoke, her voice hoarse with the barely restrained fury that was choking them all. “I knew it would be hard. I knew this would happen, even though it all seemed like everything was starting to go so well, and things were so easy and perfect this morning with the three of us having breakfast together. I knew better, knew I didn’t want—”

She stopped abruptly in the middle of her sentence and both he and Tatiana held their breath as she put down the paper. When Valentina finally looked up at him, Smith was struck by the way the beautiful green and brown of her eyes were in sharp relief to her starkly pale face.

And then, she reached for him, her hands even colder than they’d been that night when they’d boarded his yacht to head to Alcatraz. His heart stopped beating in his chest as he waited for her to tell him she was done. That she couldn’t do this. That it was over.

She took a deep breath. And then another. Finally, she said, “I meant it when I said I’d try. I’m not looking forward to more of this, but it’s one thing to say I want to try. It’s another to know that I can keep trying when everything’s not perfect and sunshine and rainbows.”

Relief swamped him as he immediately dragged her into his arms and held her so tightly that only later would he realize he could have bruised her ribs. Her words meant even more with Tatiana there to witness them. Because, finally, she wasn’t trying to hide them anymore.

Was it possible, Smith wondered, that the fake story might end up being a blessing, rather than a curse?

* * *

Smith soon found out that he’d never been so wrong about anything in his life. The paparazzi lying in wait for the three of them on the sidewalk outside of Valentina and Tatiana’s house were anything but a blessing.

Already late heading to set, having ignored the last five texts that had come in from his Assistant Director, as the flashes went off in their faces while the paparazzi got big money shots of the three of them, a half-dozen images flashed before Smith.