Reagan

"Okay, so what's the catch?" I asked Serena as we both settled down on the sectional with a cup of coffee.

It had been almost two weeks since our phone conversation where she mentioned the mysterious wedding date. I was dying for details, because she'd been adamant about not getting into specifics over the phone. Serena had just landed earlier that morning, and Ben had dropped her back home to go to football training. And after a long shower and a change of clothes, she finally felt human enough again to have our overdue conversation about what exactly I'd gotten myself into when I said yes to this arrangement.

Serena smiled at me, and her dimple showed. "I know I owe you an explanation. I've been rather vague about the whole thing, I know. It's just... I want you to know exactly what you're walking into. You can still say no. But I have a feeling that's not going to be a problem."

She gave a devilish smile, and my eyebrow rose.

"Do tell."

"It's Ty Landon."

My jaw dropped, and Serena started laughing.

Tyler Landon was the drummer in Scarlet Shadow. Ultra-famous and hot as sin. Hell, every single guy in that band was pure chef's kiss as far as looks went, including Serena's famous cousins Dominic and Austin Johns. Not that I'd ever met them in person - they led private lives and were on the road touring for most of the year. But although I knew nothing about Ty Landon's personality, I knew that guys like him didn't just fly in girls to be their date to a wedding. Life didn't work like that.

"Ty Landon? You can't be serious. How on earth can he need a date?" I could barely get the words out, because the wind had been knocked out of me.

"Hear me out." Serena held up a hand. "I knew you were going to react like this, which is why I wanted to have this conversation in person."

I nodded for her to go on, still not believing what had come out of her mouth.

"He asked me to be his date, actually, not knowing that I was with Ben. He's not in a relationship with anyone and... I have to warn you; he isn't relationship material. He's funny and kind of charming in his own way, but he is really direct."

My brow lifted further. I still wasn't buying this. What was the catch?

"It's difficult for the guys in the band to meet genuine girls, who aren't just gold diggers and seeking five minutes of fame. Girls who don't just see them as a meal ticket to sell a story to a tabloid. They don't just let anyone into their inner sanctum. And given that the groom is one of his best friends and bandmates, this wedding is a big deal. He can't take a gamble on an unknown quantity. I vouched for you, Reagz. I was kind of shocked that he agreed to let me set him up, to be honest, but he's... nice, once you get to know him. Funny as hell. Arrogant as hell, too, don't get me wrong, but he's not a bad guy. Just don't have any expectations, because he's not the type of guy who does relationships."

She looked at me expectantly, and I nodded, still processing what she'd said and still finding the whole thing pretty far-fetched.

"Why me?" I asked, frowning again.

She smiled.

"You're gorgeous. You're single. I've known you for years. I know you can be trusted. I've become closer to everyone in the band over the past few weeks that I've been helping Eva, and it's hard getting into that inner circle of theirs. But now that I'm in, they trust me."

"Ty Landon?" I asked again, incredulously, and she nodded with a smirk.

"He's hotter in real life," she mock-whispered, and we both laughed.

"I showed him a picture of you, and he immediately said that I should invite you." She smirked with a look of satisfaction on her face.

"Holy shit, I'm going to a wedding in Italy to be Ty Landon's date?" I had to ask again, that smile broadening on my face. Still wondering what the hell the catch was, though, because it all sounded too good to be true.

"There's one more thing, actually," Serena said carefully, getting up.

"Aha – a catch; I knew it!" I said triumphantly, feeling a little deflated, actually.

"Not a catch, a non-disclosure agreement," she dropped the bombshell, and my mouth gaped open.

"You mean, a piece of paper saying that I won't run to the tabloids telling them that Ty Landon has a dick the size of a crayon and is two inches shorter in real life than he claims to be, with a dash of bad B.O. on the side?" I smirked, shaking my head, and Serena laughed.

"He's fine, Reagan. Trust me." She kind of blushed a little, and my eyebrow shot up because it sounded as though my friend liked Tyler Landon, just a little bit.

"Where's this non-disclosure agreement? Let me have a read." I sighed, raising a brow in anticipation. The fact was, I was no stranger to NDAs – the odd celebrity visited our salon from time to time, and we'd been asked to sign agreements to ensure we'd keep our mouths shut about just how much waxing we'd done to keep them looking as smooth as a newborn baby.

She disappeared into her bedroom, then appeared moments later again with a ten-page document, wordlessly handing it over to me. I looked at her incredulously.

"Ten pages. Really?"

She nodded. "They take their privacy really seriously. It's not negotiable, I'm afraid. Anyone close to the band has to sign it; it's not personal."

I read through the pages and pages of legal drivel. The gist of it was that I couldn't say a word to anyone about Ty; otherwise, I'd get sued so hard that I'd have to start believing in reincarnation because I'd still be paying off the legal bills well into my next life. There was a clause prohibiting any kind of photography with Ty, inclusive of any audio-visual materials. I raised a brow when I read that.

"What – no sex tapes?"

We both giggled as I shook my head and read further.

Toward the bottom, there was a clause that seemed to be specifically directed at me. It said that I wasn't entitled to any remuneration for agreeing to be Mr. Landon's date to the wedding and that the only obligation on me was to turn up with him.

My jaw dropped a little again, and Serena nodded, as though she knew exactly what I thought.

"I asked for that last clause to give you peace of mind. So that you know there are no strings attached."

"Good thing my bestie is an attorney-at-law," I said, impressed that she managed to get that wrangled in. Because the couple of NDAs that I've had to sign to date had been absolutely non-negotiable.

"Was there anything else you were concerned about?" Serena frowned a little.

"No. It seems pretty standard. But I have to ask again – is this really real?" I shook my head a little, still trying to find the angle, because it still sounded too good to be true.

She smiled again. "It's real, Reagz. Just promise me one thing...."

"Anything." I smiled.

"Don't fall for him."

My eyes widened.

"Of course, I won't." I laughed her off flippantly. "He's a famous rock star. I am no one. It would be utterly stupid of me to catch feelings for him. It's a date of convenience. He gets a girl who'll keep her mouth shut; I get a free trip to Italy to attend the party of the year and pretend I'm rich and famous for a day. Sounds like more than a fair trade to me."

She nodded.

"He's a lady-killer, Reagan," she warned again, and I laughed at her.

"I know he's extremely good-looking. I know he's famous. I also know that our lives are worlds apart. There's no risk of me thinking that I'm Cinderella, and suddenly my prince has come." I shook my head a little.

Serena smiled, looking a little less worried.

"And I have to warn you; his personality can take a while to get used to. He's... very confident." She smirked as though there was more she wanted to say.

"Cocky, you mean?" I lifted a brow, and she nodded, laughing.

"Exactly. And direct. Extremely direct. He has no filter."

I smiled. "I think Ty Landon and I will get along just fine."

Serena looked at me intently, as though she was studying me before she spoke again.

"I think the two of you will get along like a house on fire, actually. Either that, or you'll completely hate each other. But I'm willing to take a bet that it will be the former, rather than the latter."

It was my turn to laugh heartily.

"To hate someone requires that you actually feel something towards them, first, and trust me, I'm immune even against Ty Landon," I said confidently. "I'm sure we'll find plenty to talk about. I'm used to dealing with celebrities at the salon. You just kiss their ass a little and ask them questions about themselves, because that's their favorite topic." My tone was flippant, and Serena looked suitably amused.

"Yeah, Ty doesn't need his ass kissed; his ego is already the size of a damn continent," she joked, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Come on; you need to get some rest. You've just flown halfway around the world and you must be beat." I stood up, and she followed my cue. "Mr. Perfect is picking you up in just a few hours again for your dinner date, and we don't want you to fall asleep while he's trying to make kissy-faces at you." I winked, hoping that she wouldn't pick up on the pang of jealousy I felt inside.

"I've missed you." She smiled, getting up, and I followed suit, hugging her.

"The place hasn't been the same without you, Ser."

"It's great being home. You're a constant in my life, Reagz. I hope you never change."

But unbeknownst to us both, the Reagan who left that apartment two weeks later wouldn't be the same girl who returned from Italy.

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