Say You're Mine (The Gallaghers Book 1) by Layla Hagen (digital ebook reader .txt) 📗

the tour guide agency had asked me to step in for him today. He got sick and didn’t want to cancel the tour.

Brayden was not too thrilled about it, since he’d hoped to spend the whole weekend together, but I was only going to be away for a few hours. After the tour, I was heading to my office to pick up some diary-making supplies, because I was crafting a new one for a client.

I went straight to Midtown Manhattan, where a bus awaited me. I mentally reviewed the highlights of the tour, already giddy.

It was perhaps a little silly of me to get so excited about the tour, since I’d done it so many times before, but I loved it. The crowd was already on the bus when I got in.

“I’m here. Sorry I’m late,” I exclaimed when I stepped inside. “I’m Isabelle, everyone. How about a short introduction round? Just your name and where you’re from. And let us know if the AC is turned too low. We’re in the third week of August now, but the humidity is still high outside. We New Yorkers tend to overcompensate by cranking up the AC.”

I counted twenty people in the group, which would mean lots of tips. I had an international mix today, with tourists from Australia, Japan, Italy, France and Portugal. There were also two college students from Boston who were here for a weekend trip. One of them was looking at me with a strange expression, as if she was trying to figure something out.

“Okay, everybody, let’s start right now. Who recognizes this apartment building?”

“Friends,” the crowd said in a chorus.

“That’s correct.” I smiled as the bus lurched forward. I pointed out several movie and series spots on both sides of the road. It was amazing how much was filmed in the city.

Everyone was listening except the students, who had their heads together, looking at a phone. My own phone vibrated in my tote a few times. I ignored it at first, but by the third time it buzzed, I took it out, glancing at it quickly and noting I had a message from Brayden.

Brayden: Call me as soon as you can!

I had two missed calls from him as well, so it had to be urgent, but I couldn’t pause the tour, not after arriving late. I texted him quickly.

Isabelle: I’m doing the tour, can’t call right now! What’s wrong?

I slipped the phone back in my tote, focusing on the group. We’d reached my favorite part, the Plaza, which was featured in a lot of movies over the years.

It was then the two students walked up to me when the bus stopped at a red light. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You’re dating Brayden.”

I froze, unsure how to react. The blonde turned the phone toward me. On the screen was a photo of me and Brayden from earlier that day. There was no denying that was me. My face was clearly visible. I realized this was what Brayden had wanted to talk to me about.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I said with a smile. What else could I say?

“Holy shit! Can you get us his autograph? Can we take a picture with him after the tour?”

What?

“No,” I replied, looking at them in confusion. The rest of the group was now also paying attention.

“You’re dating Brayden Clarke? The rock star?” one of the French tourists asked.

I nodded, looking around. I desperately tried to remember Sasha’s list of lines to tell the press if they ambushed me. They’d work well now too, but my mind was completely blank.

“Okay, so as I was saying about the Plaza. It was featured in—"

“Can we get his autograph?” the same French girl asked.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“No, I’m so sorry, but I’m here to do the tour,” I said firmly. “That’s all. Please don’t ask me anything personal.”

The college students rolled their eyes. I turned my back to them as I started telling them about Home Alone 2, which filmed scenes here. I had to stop when the group’s murmurs grew loud enough that it became obvious they weren’t paying attention to me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw them passing around a phone, whispering Brayden’s name. The only ones who seemed disinterested in the gossip were the couple from Japan.

I had no idea how to react. I typed a quick message to Brayden.

Isabelle: One of the tourists showed me the picture. They’ve asked me a bunch of questions. I ignored them, but it’s not helping.

I cleared my throat. “Everyone, can we please focus on the tour? We still have a few landmarks to see.”

The Japanese couple nodded, as did a few others. The students reluctantly put their phone away, and I finally recounted the scene that had been filmed here.

The next interruption came a few minutes later.

“How long have you been dating him?” the blonde student asked. “Is he as hot in real life?”

The Japanese and Italian couples were getting increasingly more frustrated. I wanted to shut down the personal questions, but I didn’t want to be rude.

Licking my lower lip, I shrugged. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about my personal life. Can we please keep the questions related to the tour?”

The next two hours were very uncomfortable, because every few minutes, someone asked me about Brayden. Did they think that if they kept nagging, I’d give in?

I knew it would result in very few tips. I was disappointing the tourists who

were actually interested, and I wasn’t pleasing those who wanted to know about Brayden either. This was very frustrating. I loved the job, but right then I wanted to end the tour.

By the time we arrived at the last point, Washington Square Park, which everyone recognized from Glee and When Harry Met Sally, I was truly exhausted.

“Well, this is a wrap. Thank you for joining me today.” I tried to sound professional and happy, but I wasn’t feeling it at all.

The tips were nothing to brag about, but at