The ride up to the penthouse was awkward to say the least. Not only was I dreading apologizing to Oliver, but the security guard was staring at us like criminals. He was bald and wearing an earpiece and dark glasses like the ones FBI agents wear in movies. If he weren’t so scary I probably would have laughed.
When the lift lurched to a halt, I gulped down a deep breath to stop myself from puking on the man’s shoes. That wouldn’t go over well…
The doors slid open. For a moment I thought baldy wasn’t going to let us off, but then he stepped aside.
There was another guard stationed outside the door of the penthouse. He was considerably friendlier. “Well, well it seems that you’ve found a bit of luck since this afternoon.”
As I took a step closer, I recognized the husky guard from the autograph signing. “You.” Quickly forgetting my talk with Drew, I glared at the man still angry from before. If he hadn’t cut the line off at us…
He laughed. “Yes, me. My name’s Mike, head of the boy’s security. Nice to meet you.”
My brother stuck his hand out and shook Mike’s. “Nice to meet you too. I’m Drew.”
When I didn’t introduce myself Drew elbowed me in the side. “Stella,” I grumbled.
Mike laughed. “Fiery, aren’t you? No wonder Oliver invited you up. He’s always liked girls who are a handful.” He winked.
A handful? What was that supposed to mean? Drew elbowed me in the side again as if he knew I was about to snap back.
“But you,” Mike said turning to Drew. “How’d you end up here? I’ve never seen a boy fan before…”
“I’m not a fan,” Drew answered quickly. “I’m her brother.”
Mike nodded his head. “That’s good. Gotta keep an eye out around those boys. They’re trouble makers.”
“Thanks, I’ll remember that,” Drew said. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too. Have fun.” Mike moved aside to let us in the penthouse.
We stepped inside; my stomach was a jumbled up mess.
“Hello?” Drew called out. The door slammed shut behind us. The place was quiet and I raised an eyebrow at my brother.
“Maybe they’re at dinner?” he suggested.
“Well, looks like no one’s here. Let’s go,” I said. Drew grabbed my arm and dragged me down the rest of the hall until it opened up to a massive living room. “Come on, Drew! Let go!”
He stopped in the living room, released my arm, and looked around with a puzzled look on his face.
“Still no one here,” I whispered. I don’t know why I whispered, but the emptiness of the room made it feel appropriate.
It was quiet for a moment longer. Then, unexpectedly, the Mission Impossible theme song started to blast out of the sound system.
“Ready, FIRE!” someone shouted. I shot up a foot in the air when three boys jumped out from behind the couch.
“We got you now, Oliver!”
An array of objects was launched in our direction. Something green and slimy hit my shoulder and I shrieked. I looked down at my camera, afraid that some of the mystery goo had landed on it, but it was slime free. Before I was hit by anything else, I tore my baby away from my neck. The strap was tangled in my hair, but I pulled it free just in time; a water balloon smashed against my chest, completely soaking my shirt.
“Oh crap! Abort mission,” one of the boys yelled. When the attack stopped, we all stared at each other, Drew and I with our eyes wide and the band with their mouths hanging open.
“Da hell?” the boy with the muscles finally said.
“Well, this isn’t weird at all,” the boy with the glasses added as he scratched his head.
“No, not at all,” Drew responded as he picked a pair of boxers off his head. Besides the dirty laundry and water balloons, we had been pelted with silly string and Cheetos. The green goo on my shoulder looked suspiciously like Jell-O.
“That little shit set us up!” Muscles said. He tossed a can of silly string onto the floor and sighed before walking over to us. “Sorry about that,” he continued and brushed some silly string off Drew’s shoulder.
“Um, not a problem,” Drew responded. We both were at a loss for words.
Glasses boy bounce over to us. “Yeah,