Lights! Camera! Caleb Hemsworth!

Chapter Four

I took Karina's advice and texted Caleb the next afternoon from Anna's phone. I'm not comfortable with him having my number just yet. 

Now I'm standing outside the Shake Shack for dinner. He suggested something more exclusive, but I could really go for a good burger. As I patiently wait for Hemsworth, I take pictures with fans and sign a bunch of posters, shirts, backpacks, and anything else they can find. My bodyguards Rosa and Vivian stay close by and have an eye on me the entire time. After what seems like the hundredth autograph I sign, I'm ready to call it a night. It's been twenty minutes, and he hasn't shown up yet.

"Rosa and Vivian." They walk towards me. "We're leaving. I don't believe Mr. Hemsworth will be showing up tonight. Sorry for inconveniencing you." I look back and forth between them.

"No problem, ma'am." Rosa's eyes hold pity for me before she turns to scan the crowd. "Ma'am, would you like to go for a drink?"

"Yes, ma'am, I think a drink would help. My sister got stood up last week, and a drink helped her out." Vivian says, her British accent putting me at ease as always. They clearly want me to be happy tonight, and maybe I should be.

"No, not tonight. I don't feel comfortable drinking, having the time of my life—with you two just standing by." I don't know how other celebrities do it, but I hate having a good time with a bodyguard just standing around; it didn't feel normal. According to Anna, I'm now a far cry from normal now.

Vivian gives me a genuine smile. "It's ok, ma'am. It's our job to protect you from danger."

"I'll go under one condition." I'm about to do the unexpected. No one in Hollywood has done it, well not in public. Vivian and Rosa nod simultaneously. "You two have to drink with me."

"No way."

"We are here to protect you," they say simultaneously.

I roll my eyes, heading towards the first bar I see. "Come on, ladies, one drink won't hurt anybody."

I turn to see them walking towards me suspiciously. Drinking with bodyguards was a no-no. Especially when you are a high-profile celebrity. Things can go wrong very quickly. I'm not a fan of having female bodyguards; however, they are great at what they do, and no one suspects them to be highly trained killers, so to speak. A guy walks up to me, putting Rosa and Vivian on high alert. He can pass as the poster boy for Hawt. This guy isn't a Caleb, but he is a perfect runner-up. Three words: tall, dark, and hawt.

"Are you Selena Lane?" he asks, smiling brightly at me—a British accent. I like.

"Sorry, but no. I get that a lot though. I read she is a bit taller and has fewer curves than I do. Sorry, dude," I lie, and his face scrunches up in confusion before he nods his head going over what I said. This wasn't the first time I have lied to someone about my identity, and it definitely won't be the last. I'm allowed me time just like everyone else.

"Damn, I'm sorry. I bet you get that a lot?" He smiles, and bingo I think I found my new drinking buddy for the night. Straight white teeth and dimples.

"Yeah, not really. Hey, I was just about to grab a drink with my friends." I point at Rosa and Vivian. "You should definitely join." I flirt.

"No, I can't..." He looks behind him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I should have asked if you had a girlfriend or not. So daft of me."

"No, no, no. It's not that—I don't have a girlfriend, not really the settling down type, but I'm hanging with a group of guys tonight. It's my friend's stag night. I can't ditch the group. Best man duties," he explains. "Can we exchange numbers? I'm here in the States for another three days."