Page 30 of Y'allywood Billionaire

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Farmer Dog

Well, Page Six printed an article titled, “RILOX ON THE ROCKS?” with a photo of Maddox flirting with Becca, so now our PR people say he and I have to make a big, cuddly splash to counteract it. And yes, Maddox regrets the call he made about Becca.

Last Saturday night, after the bat incident, we ended up at the ER getting four shots, one in each arm and leg. Then we returned to our separate homes, done with camping…or yurting. Since we had to continue getting shots every three days for three more visits, we have one set left.

And a strange thing happened through our multitudes of shots this week—Maddox and I became friends.

There’s nothing like sitting in an ER on scratchy paper with nothing to do but get poked that brings people together. I learned Maddox takes his after-shot lollipop very seriously. And he learned I know a frighteningly great deal about every drug on the market due to an internship in college as a pharm tech.

We had fun at our Monday and Wednesday coffee dates, chattering about our shared favorite topic—Urban Dawn.

It’s now Saturday again, and Maddox and I saunter, arm in arm, down the aisles of produce at the bougie outdoor Farmer’s Market on Peachtree, the place where celebs come and get their hundred-dollar organic, vegan, super green antioxidant smoothie powder. In-the-know fans come in hopes of seeing their favorite stars in their sunglasses, baseball caps, and low-key activewear. If spotters are lucky, they’ll see a mega-star on an epically bad hair day.

However, Maddox and I are tryingnotto be on the down-low because we’re here to be seen together as a couple enjoying our Saturday morning grocery shopping. Especially after that article.

I nudge Maddox. “Look, honey. They have fresh cotton candy grapes.” I give myself a proverbial pat on the back because I know grapes are Maddox’s favorite fruit. I also know he’s into the latest hybrid development of them that are sweeter but less acidic and taste like cotton candy. They’re also a whopping seven dollars per pound.

“Awesome.” Maddox picks up a package. “I’m gonna load up.” He puts four bags in his basket.

Somehow, this feels like an extended acting gig, which isn’t so fun to have to do in real life. However, it is a natural extension of our days, so at least we’re well trained for it.

As we’re working our way to the vegetable aisle to select our pink lettuce, there’s a high-pitched squeal followed by an, “Oh my God. It’s Maddox Winter.”

It’s a twenty-something attractive woman who’s way too dressed up for grocery shopping. She manages a bright smile when she says, “Bladelandswas my favorite movie of all time.”

Maddox flashes that superstar smile of his, the one he saves for his fans and the cameras. “Funny thing. It’s my favorite movie of all time, too.”

She lets out a laugh, and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

“Would you sign my phone case? Look, it has you fromBladelandson it.“ She holds it up.

“I’d be happy to.”

Ugh. He’s only doing that because she’s hot. He’ll probably ask her out when we’re done with our little charade.

When Maddox finishes signing, fan girl looks at me and frowns. “Lexi Bryce.”

“Hello.” My lips curve. I’m getting used to people calling me by my character’s name. When it first started happening, it was a little challenging not to correct them, but I’m past that now.

Fan girl’s smile is long gone. “I read somewhere that you’re an ex-stripper and have a sex video. Is that true?”

My mouth falls open, and my chest tightens. “Wow, I hadn’t heard that one.” I shoot Maddox a shocked look. “BeforeUrban Dawn, I was an accountant for a petwear company. So that’d be a definitive no.“ It was Sophie’s petwear company, actually.

Her eyes pop. “Really?I guess you can’t believe everything you read online.”

Her words make me cringe, but I try to keep my cool when I say, “I definitely wouldn’t.” I manage a smile, but something lances my gut. I’m so lucky to have landed this role, and my fans are amazing. I just wasn’t prepared for all the lies. I mean, the paparazzi is why I’m here with Maddox, right now. It’s been fine with him—maybe even good—but I’m starting to feel like my life is not my own.

Dying to know where she read this “news,” I do a Google search on my phone to see the headline, “IS RILEY A STRIPPER IN REAL LIFE?”

“Ugh,” I mumble. The strip tease episode aired last night, so I guess that makes sense. When I scan the article, it basically tells readers that I must have a stripping background because of my moves.

So if I do a solid performance, people question if it wastoogood? I mean, how can I win? My face grows hot, and I’m reeling—probably more than the article calls for. This is part of my job now—dealing with news and gossip. Everyone tells me not to check, and I try not to, but how can I resist when I hear something like that? Also, I want to read allUrban Dawnarticles because it’s important to be on top of what people are saying about the show.

Bangs echoing from the alley save me from myself, and my eyes dart to a dog by a dumpster. He’s knocked over a garbage bin and is now chowing down what looks like bags of carrots and lettuce. When he finishes and searches for more food, he’s limping. My heart stops, and I grab Maddox’s hand, no longer an act. “Maddox.”

Maddox squints, and after a beat, he says, “He’s hurt. Let’s go see.”

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