Page 1 of Protector

CHAPTERONE

Shay

I’m fine.

Is it still considered a lie if you’re just in denial?

My family has perfected the art of false truths…or rather, altering reality, for as long as I can remember. So, it’s not surprising I would turn to the mantra my mother has drilled into me since the first time I fell and skinned my knee. We were in the parking lot of my first audition, and I was about ready to bawl my eyes out—heaven forbid I streak the mascara I shouldn’t have been wearing. I was six.

“You’re fine, Shay honey,” she said, taking my hand and leading me inside.

I couldn’t act my way out of a paper bag, but my mother just wouldn’t see it.

It took seven years—and me growing a foot and a half—before she gave up on me winning an Oscar and listened to the people in the industry who all told her the same thing: “Adele, your daughter is gorgeous, but she can’t act. Put her in modeling.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t so much about the acting for me. Somehow, I knew it was more about what my mother wanted, so my heart was never in it. Which is why it’s ironic that we’re headed to the lobby of the hotel to discuss what’s happening with the reality show I was slated to start filming this month.Wasbeing the key word—the fate of the show remains to be seen.

Mom presses the lobby button when we enter the elevator just as my phone alerts me of a text. I slip it out of my small Coach purse, but I can feel her eyes on me as I skim the message.

“Who is it?”

I roll my eyes toward the ground and stare at my sand-colored Manolo flats. “It’s nothing, Mother.”

Hearing her exaggerated sigh, I tuck my phone away and turn to her. “What?”

Her arms folded across her chest conflict with the glassy sheen in her eyes.

I dart my gaze to the numbers above the door as the elevator descends, then I step closer and look down at her. Even without heels, I’m a little taller than her five-six frame wearing three-inch heels. “It’s going to be fine…”

She shakes her head, dabs at a non-existent tear. “I’m supposed to be telling you that.” Grabbing my hand, she continues. “I know you think all I care about is money, but this… I don’t know how to deal with this. It’s too much.”

“Mom!” I say, somewhat gruffly. “It’s nothing. It’s when you stop having stalkers that you have to worry, right?” I laugh halfheartedly, covering the fears I’ve been denying.

“If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.” She pulls her hand from mine. “Dammit, Shay, if you weren’t being so difficult about it. The bodyguards—”

“Are annoying and make me look like some rich prima donna.” Granted, that’s exactly how much of the world sees me. “I mean, where’d you get those guys? Goons R Us?” I turn just as the elevator doors open and said bodyguards are standing there, looking official yet obvious all at once, like they just got back from a costume party dressed as secret service. The taller one has shaggy brown hair pulled into a low ponytail and chest hair overflowing from the top button of his shirt, while the other looks more straight-laced and has that constipated look on his face.

“Han, Chewie,” I greet as I stride past them, catching the big ape panning down my bare legs. He looks like the type of guy who would be at a bar with his friends, yucking it up, talking about how he’dguard my body.

Mom stays behind to deal with them, and I hear a strained whisper behind me. “Shay!”

I just keep walking toward the lobby, where I can see my publicist, Catherine, waving me over. Just seeing her makes me feel more relaxed, and I find myself picking up my pace to get there. We’re also meeting my agent, Billy, who’s supposed to be coming from a meeting with the producers.

“Geez, Shaylene, your legs are a mile long in those shorts,” she says as a greeting.

“You look great too,” I say, pulling her in for a hug after admiring her gray and white pant suit. Catherine is a kick-ass businesswoman, but she can rock any outfit from professional to casual to formalwear. I always tell her she could jump right into commercial modeling with me.

“What happened to laying low?” she whispers in my ear. “That outfit will stop traffic.”

I scoff. “You want overalls and a straw hat?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, like it would make a difference.” She loops her arm through mine. “Come on. Billy’s running late. He said to wait in the dining room.” She starts leading me back to where my mom is still talking to the bodyguards. “So those are the guys?” she says, head-gesturing.

“Unfortunately.”

My mom falls in line with us while Han and Chewbacca follow at a safe distance behind.

“How’re you holding up, Adele?” Catherine asks as their two pairs of heels flank me and click along the floor.

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