Say You're Mine - Layla Hagen Page 0,47

us his autograph? Can we take a picture with him after the tour?”

What?

“No,” I replied, looking at them in confusion. The rest of the group was now also paying attention.

“You’re dating Brayden Clarke? The rock star?” one of the French tourists asked.

I nodded, looking around. I desperately tried to remember Sasha’s list of lines to tell the press if they ambushed me. They’d work well now too, but my mind was completely blank.

“Okay, so as I was saying about the Plaza. It was featured in—"

“Can we get his autograph?” the same French girl asked.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“No, I’m so sorry, but I’m here to do the tour,” I said firmly. “That’s all. Please don’t ask me anything personal.”

The college students rolled their eyes. I turned my back to them as I started telling them about Home Alone 2, which filmed scenes here. I had to stop when the group’s murmurs grew loud enough that it became obvious they weren’t paying attention to me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw them passing around a phone, whispering Brayden’s name. The only ones who seemed disinterested in the gossip were the couple from Japan.

I had no idea how to react. I typed a quick message to Brayden.

Isabelle: One of the tourists showed me the picture. They’ve asked me a bunch of questions. I ignored them, but it’s not helping.

I cleared my throat. “Everyone, can we please focus on the tour? We still have a few landmarks to see.”

The Japanese couple nodded, as did a few others. The students reluctantly put their phone away, and I finally recounted the scene that had been filmed here.

The next interruption came a few minutes later.

“How long have you been dating him?” the blonde student asked. “Is he as hot in real life?”

The Japanese and Italian couples were getting increasingly more frustrated. I wanted to shut down the personal questions, but I didn’t want to be rude.

Licking my lower lip, I shrugged. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about my personal life. Can we please keep the questions related to the tour?”

The next two hours were very uncomfortable, because every few minutes, someone asked me about Brayden. Did they think that if they kept nagging, I’d give in?

I knew it would result in very few tips. I was disappointing the tourists who

were actually interested, and I wasn’t pleasing those who wanted to know about Brayden either. This was very frustrating. I loved the job, but right then I wanted to end the tour.

By the time we arrived at the last point, Washington Square Park, which everyone recognized from Glee and When Harry Met Sally, I was truly exhausted.

“Well, this is a wrap. Thank you for joining me today.” I tried to sound professional and happy, but I wasn’t feeling it at all.

The tips were nothing to brag about, but at least it was over. Once I stepped down from the bus and was away from the group, I took out my bottle of water, taking a much-needed swig. I only drank a little on the tour, to keep my mouth and throat from drying up. I didn’t want to stop for any bathroom breaks in a two-hour tour.

Taking out my phone, I intended to call Brayden, but I had no battery left.

Wow. This is not my lucky day.

Sighing, I bought some curly fries from a stand selling hot dogs and burgers before heading to the subway station. Oh, they were absolutely delicious. I loved all the to-go options in New York. Some of the food trucks were horrible, but some were true gems. I was so hungry that I ate the fries before I even reached the subway station. On the ride to my office, I kept wondering what would happen next.

***

To my astonishment, I noticed a group in front of the building as I approached. What is going on? A second later, I noticed that most of them were holding cameras.

Swallowing hard, I stopped walking. My heart was pounding fast. Were they reporters? Was I becoming paranoid? The photos of me had popped up that afternoon; could they really have dug up my address so quickly?

My stomach bottomed out. Of course they could have. If you googled my name, the website of my business came up. The address was written on the home page. I chewed the inside of my cheek while trying to come up with an idea.

That was when a familiar black BMW pulled up on my street, stopping next to me. Paul was behind the