MY victory was short-lived. As the restaurant door closed behind us, the flash of what seemed like a hundred cameras blinded me and the questions came thick and fast.
‘Dr King. Is Nathan aware of your connection to Paul King?’
‘Can you tell us when the wedding date is?’
‘Sophia, will you honeymoon in New Zealand?’
‘Did he ask for your father’s permission?’
I shielded my eyes from the glare with my arm and stumbled backwards into Jess. With her arm looped through mine, she tugged me back inside the restaurant and closed the door.
‘Bloody hell! That was mental.’ Jess and I faced each other, our chests panting and our eyes wide. ‘Are you okay?’ She gripped my shoulders, drawing me farther into the restaurant, away from the doors and away from the madness that had once again become my life. I nodded, my head spinning and my mouth too dry for speech.
‘What happened? Is she okay?’
Nathan.
Jess squeezed my hand and whirled on him. She was shorter than me, but she placed her petite form between us, bracing her free hand on her hip. I loved her for that.
‘There are paps outside. They ambushed us. Of course she’s not okay.’ Her Welsh accent grew with her chagrin.
‘Fuck.’ He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled, pinning me with his intense scrutiny. ‘Tama. Get in here, now. The rear entrance.’ His gaze flicked to Jess before settling on me again. ‘I’ll take you home.’ He focused on his phone, firing off a rapid text.
I found my voice. ‘We’re not going anywhere with you.’ I stepped out from behind Jess and turned my back on him. ‘Jess, let’s get a taxi.’
The adrenaline that kept me upright dwindled fast. Trembles began in my hands and threatened to infect my whole body. I battled the steel band confining my chest to suck sufficient air into my screaming lungs.
Jess chewed her lip and glanced at the door. ‘Okay.’ She nodded, her brows pinched together.
We’d created enough of a scene to disrupt the meals of the few other diners, who whispered and craned their necks to keep abreast of the drama. One woman was blatantly filming the spectacle on her phone. Even Claudia raised a curious brow in our direction before turning back to her dinner companion.
A staff member approached, together with a tall Maori man who wore a dark suit and a menacing expression. Ignoring Jess and I, they drew Nathan aside and spoke to him in hushed tones. I couldn’t make out what they said, but it was clear the bigger man was a bodyguard. He must have been waiting in the car park.
Jess’s bewildered glance flicked around the room from group to group, settling on the woman filming us. The fierce fight of moments ago had deserted her, leaving her deathly pale.
‘It’s okay, Jess.’ Sobering quickly, I turned my back on the amateur filmmaker, swallowing my own shame, and positioned myself in front of my friend, blocking her from view. Pulling my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, I searched my contacts for a taxi company.
Before I could place the call, Nathan was back. ‘We’re leaving. Now.’ He grabbed my phone, dropping it into my pocket, and grasped the top of my arm.
I was a writhing, spitting mass of humiliation, frustration and self-preservation again. ‘I told you—we’re not leaving with you. We’ll get a taxi.’
He didn’t flinch, ignoring me and reaching for Jess’s arm. ‘Don’t be stubborn. The place is surrounded. They’re at the back entrance too.’ Inserting himself between Jess and I, he ushered her forward with a hand between her shoulder blades and tugged me after him.
‘We can take care of ourselves.’ My voice rose. A few of the wait staff were lined up in front of the bar, their curious stares following our progress. Jess lowered her head, her cheeks glowing as she shuffled past.
Turning his head without slowing his pace, Nathan said, ‘Think about your friend. You’re escalating this scene right now.’
Hot fingers of shame clawed at my throat. I glanced up at the bodyguard who stood sentry at the door leading to the kitchens, his body tense and his eyes alert. Behind the door, the chefs had abandoned their stations to peer through the circle of glass.
Once again I found myself at the centre of a spectacle of someone else’s making. I’d learned long ago to ignore the stares, but that didn’t mean I’d been vaccinated for the humiliation they evoked.
Jess remained silent, her gaze trained on the floor in front of her feet.
‘Tama?’ Nathan urged us towards the intimidating bodyguard who swung open the door to the kitchens, scattering the chefs and ushering us inside.
Nathan paused at his table to speak to Claudia and the other man. Their faces, wreathed in questions, glanced our way.
‘Please, Soph. Let’s just get out of here?’ Jess’s voice was small. She stood close to Tama, her eyes imploring.
I nodded. ‘Okay.’ Poor Jess—what a mess.
Nathan was back, his spine rigid and his expression commanding. This was his world. ‘Tama goes first; I’ll be behind you. Walk quickly, keep your head down and don’t say anything.’ His voice rang with authority, daring us to contradict him. ‘Ready?’
I was tempted to defy him, but Jess was docile, her curls bobbing with the nod of her head. She looked as if she’d follow him into the fires of hell.
He took my silence for acquiescence and pushed us towards the back exit.
It happened with the speed and skill of a SWAT mission. Within a few adrenaline-filled seconds, we were inside the SUV, concealed behind the tinted glass and roaring away from the restaurant, leaving the crowd of photographers behind.
***
The pounding on the door matched the tempo of the pounding in my head. I stumbled out of bed and was halfway across the apartment before I remembered last night and the paparazzi. They were up early. Or perhaps they hadn’t gone home?
I fumbled to open my phone, which I’d tossed on the hall table after Tama had escorted us to the door. Jess was so relieved to be safe, she’d actually hugged the giant of a man, her tiny frame perched on tiptoes so she could wrap her arms around his massive chest.
There were ten texts in my inbox and six missed calls from a number I didn’t recognise. The texts claimed to be from the door pounder, who was a courier and had a package to hand-deliver. I moved to the window, cracking open the curtains enough to see a man on our doorstep. Wearing a courier company shirt, he carried an envelope in his hand.
The security chain slid into the groove with a rattle and I opened the door a crack, my forehead pressed to the cool wood so I stayed out of sight. ‘What do you want?’ Now the pounding had stopped, I became aware of the throbbing at my temples. I pressed my eyes closed and pinched the bridge of my nose.
‘Parcel for Sophia King.’ A slip of paper and pen appeared in the opening and I took both, scrawling a quick version of my signature across the bottom. I swapped the paper and pen for the envelope and thanked the courier before closing and locking the door.
Jess was in the kitchen making tea when I returned. I pulled out a stool at the bench sinking into it and tore open the letter.
‘What an infuriating arsehole.’ I tossed the contents of the envelope down onto the bench and reached for the mug Jess set before me. I closed my eyes, savouring the first delicious mouthful of tea. ‘Thanks, Jess. That’s just what I needed.’
The silence stretched from typical morning hangover levels to brittle-with-unspoken-resentment levels. Jess leaned against the sink with downcast eyes.
‘What’s wrong?’
She lifted her bloodshot eyes to mine, her face blank. ‘What’s in the envelope?’
‘Ughh, Nathan Banks. He has a sick sense of humour.’ I wasn’t making sense, and Jess waited for an explanation. ‘An itinerary for my flight tomorrow on the studio jet. The guy’s delusional.’
I scrolled through the e-mails on my phone, noting he’d sent the same itinerary to me electronically, too.
Jess broke the silence. ‘I think you should go with him.’
‘What?’ My startled gaze flew to hers across the kitchen. ‘It’ll just make things worse.’ Nathan Banks had created this mess and the last thing I needed was to be alone with him, trapped at thirty-five thousand feet for twenty-four hours.
‘How much worse could they be, Soph? You’re being hounded and followed, and now they’ve discovered who you are.’
I winced, my brain sluggish with the aftereffects of last night. I dropped my head into my hands, recalling the comments about my father. I was spread out for the world to see, like a rat on a dissection board. ‘We don’t know they were following me last night. They could have been following Nathan.’
Jess sighed, her tired eyes pleading. ‘Yes. But now they’ve connected you to your dad, they won’t stop until the story has run its course.’
Nausea gnawed at my empty stomach, and I pushed my tea away. ‘Why are you angry with me?’ My voice was a broken croak. Jess and I had never argued. She was the optimist and this sudden role reversal messed with my already tattered equilibrium.
‘I’m not. I’m just … Last night was horrible, Soph. Weren’t you freaked out?’ Her eyes were huge in her almost translucent pale face.
The tea churned in my stomach. I’d dragged my friend into this drama. ‘Yes.’ Memories from my teens resurfaced, and just as I hadn’t been able to protect my vulnerable brother then, I was powerless to protect my friend now.
‘Because I was. It was scary, and I don’t think I can stand much more of it.’
My throat burned. I blinked away the sting and stared at the bench in front of me. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll leave.’ I stood, my legs wobbly, and headed for my bedroom. Pain seared my chest, vaporising the air in my lungs and squeezing the blood from my heart. I hadn’t considered how Jess would feel. I didn’t blame her. No one would choose to be chased by photographers, but the tiny niggle of betrayal was there nonetheless.
‘No. Wait.’ Jess rounded the island and stood before me. ‘I feel like the worst friend in the world. I want to support you, to be here for you. But …’
‘It’s okay, Jess. I understand.’ I straightened my spine, already retreating behind the protective shell that had served me so well in the past.
She clung to my hand, her fingers digging into my flesh. ‘I don’t want you to leave. I just didn’t realise things would get this crazy. How can you stand it? How did you get through it last time?’ We faced each other, our reddened eyes mirroring our hurt, fear and humiliation back at one another.
The house phone rang, and I turned from my friend to answer it.
The line crackled with the long-distance connection. ‘Soph? It’s Mum.’
The blood rushed from my head and I braced one hand on the wall next to the phone. ‘Mum, is everything okay?’ What a stupid question—of course it wasn’t.
‘Have you seen the headlines?’ The tremble in her voice told me all I needed to know. I scrunched my eyes shut. ‘No. Tell me?’
Her distress tumbled from her in a rush. ‘Oh dear. Dad’s terribly upset. They’ve dragged it all up—the money, the affair. We’ve had photographers camped outside all day. I was supposed to take Matty out for lunch but Dad didn’t want me to leave the house.’ Her voice grew shrill.
‘Mum, I’m so sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I have a flight Sunday. I’ll be home a week today.’ Today was Tuesday, and I realised how ridiculous that sounded. My shoulders slumped and I cupped my forehead in my hand. A week was infinite in the world of journalism. So much could happen and be reported in that time. And I’d be stuck here, twelve thousand miles from home, trapped and useless while my family suffered. My friend suffered.
I didn’t blame my dad. He’d paid his penance in ill health, a rocky marriage and the daily dose of guilt that made him half the man he’d once been. But just like they had back then, Mum and Matty needed me. When the scandal broke the first time around, Mum, grieving her marriage and caring for an autistic son and a withdrawn and sullen daughter, had collapsed, leaving me to pick up the pieces. Eventually, she’d recovered and forgiven my father, who’d moved back home the year I’d left for medical school. By that time, he’d had his first heart attack, resigned from his job, and had all but given up on life.
‘Mum, try not to worry. There’s another way. I’ll get an earlier flight and be home Thursday.’
Her voice trembled. ‘Oh, Soph, your job?’
Swallowing down my own heartache and humiliation, I brightened my tone as much as I could. ‘It’s okay, Mum. Dad’s right. Try to stay indoors. I’ll sort everything out when I get home. I love you.’
‘I love you too. Be careful.’
I replaced the phone, aware Jess was behind me, her soothing hand rubbing circles on my back. I turned, hugging my friend with a ferocity I hoped conveyed my regrets and apologies. I needed to be strong—there was no time for wallowing in my own disappointment. I had people who needed me.
‘I’m going to have a shower.’ I straightened, pushing back a stray curl that had escaped the headband she slept in. ‘It’s your day off today, right?’
She nodded.
‘Good. Will you help me pack?’