Women were amazing creatures to watch.
They could glam it up and look like Hollywood starlets. They could get down and dirty and be like one of the guys on a construction site. They could discover the cure for many diseases and fight for recognition. They are responsible for nurturing and developing the greatest minds to come in their children.
Women were, by all intents and purposes, chameleons. A man was truly nothing without a woman by his side.
So, it tickled Dean pink, purple, and even fuchsia, as he watched Sydney put on another layer on her body as they prepared to go to Fisherman's Wharf. It was a chilly day in San Francisco, so having a sweater on made sense. It didn't make sense, however, to mimic the little boy from A Christmas Story.
Dean wondered if Sydney would be able to put her arms down. "Do you think you're overdoing it?"
Sydney glanced at herself in the full-length mirror in her living room. She had on jeans, her knee-high boots, and a sweater. She also had on five scarves, a pair of gloves, and a coat in addition to the shadow-black sunglasses on her face. "It gets cold there."
"Cold, yes. But you're wearing more clothes than Luke Skywalker when he went to Hoth and that's saying something," Dean argued.
"I don't want anyone to recognize me," Sydney stated, though she could admit she was starting to feel hot underneath all of the layers of clothing. "People recognize you and that's fine. I don't want anyone to recognize me."
"Syd, only two people recognized me within the three days I've been here," he pointed out, "and we've been to how many places?"
"I don't want to cause any more drama that my appearance might give to you," she admitted.
"Drama?" His eyebrows raised in amusement. Whatever drama Sydney was imagining, Dean was curious about it. "What drama does the lady speak of?" He mocked in an English accent.
Sydney turned to her boyfriend. She could barely see his face through her dark shades. "Um, did you completely forget what just happened within the last several hours?"
"No," a slow smile appeared on his face, "but I am getting a kick out of your reaction, though."
"I don't think you know how serious this is!" Sydney admonished and Dean chuckled. "What? What's so funny?"
"You're starting to sweat!" Dean laughed. "Will you take that off, please?"
Sydney took off her coat and removed her many scarves and sunglasses. She walked over to him and sat on his lap as he rubbed her back. "I'm not a tabloid darling. I don't want to be followed everywhere with flashing cameras behind me. I like my anonymity."
"And you'll still have it. Syd, there are many famous people that have very private lives and they are A-list stars. If you don't want the paparazzi following your every move, they won't. All of those stars that are often photographed coming out of somewhere? It's because the paparazzi was alerted beforehand."
Sydney thought of Dean's photo-op with Renee. "You mean Renee…"
"Yes," Dean felt his heart pinch in anger, "that's why if you don't want the infamy that comes with dating me, I totally support."
She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. "How do you deal with all of this?"
"Easy." He smiled. "I stay home."
"Well, I would like to be able to go out and not be bothered," she suggested, "I don't care if it's fans asking you for an autograph or a picture but I just don't want to be harassed."
"And you won't be," he replied, "I think you're overthinking this. You think people are going to harass you because you're with me but you're famous on your own now."
"No, I'm not," she reminded, "she is."
"A phone call can make this go all away," Dean remembered the phone conversation he still needed to have with his ex. "Just say the word."
"No, not yet." Sydney thought of the humiliation she suffered at the Kings game courtesy of Renee and she wasn't going to let Easy Lay off that quickly. "She wants to pretend she's the one doing the drawings, I'm going to let her. The bitch is transparent and her ass is about to get shattered."
Armed with a too-strong iced espresso latte, Eden sat inside the Caffeinated coffee shop as she patiently waited for Renee's arrival. She had a list of questions she'd already prepared for the "artist" as well as questions regarding her relationship with the NHL's leading scorer and MVP.
Something, though…something just didn't feel quite right.
Eden wanted to chalk it up to it was her first major story and dancing butterflies in her stomach. This wasn't just run of the mill gossip; this was going to define her career. Other major gossip sites were crediting her and asking her for the scoop but she wouldn't budge. This baby was all hers.
Still, a part of her really wondered if Renee was truly the artist behind the exquisite drawings. While many of the women were multi-ethnic, Eden couldn't see Renee being that much of a silent activist to make it her passion. Eden was also curious on Dean's profound silence on the matter. No one from the Kings mentioned a word and his agent had no comment.
If Eden didn't know any better, it almost seemed like Dean was ignoring the situation altogether.
"Eden!" A voice called out her name and she looked up. Dressed in her finest Gucci dress, Christian Louboutin shoes, and carrying a more-expensive-than-her-rent Louis Vuitton purse, Renee quickly walked over to Eden, who stood up and exchange a polite hug and air kisses. "How are you?"
Eden had to give Renee credit. She was a stunner in person. She had the Beverly Hills Barbie look down to an exact science. Her hair was the perfect shade of golden blonde, her smile was blindly white, and her voice was cheerleader happy. It was a direct contrast from her on-screen persona, which made Eden wonder how much of an act Renee was putting on in real life. "I'm doing well. How are you?"
"I'm doing great," she emphasized the last word as she sat down, "I hope you weren't waiting too long for me?"
Eden waited for about thirty minutes but who was counting? "No, not at all. So, this is how the interview is going to go. I'm going to ask you a few questions about your artwork and your connection with Dean Ambrose and we'll go from there. It'll be videotaped."
"Perfect!" Renee knew she chose the perfect shade of red on her lips that morning. "I'm ready when you are."
Eden turned on her camcorder. "Hello dahlings! I'm your girl, Eden Stiles, and today I have an exclusive treat! With me today is the one and only, Renee Young of the Real Housewives franchise! As you may know, I posted a very intimate picture of hockey superstar Dean Ambrose on the blog just a couple of days ago. Many people wondered who was the mystery artist while Dean has stayed mum about the affair. Well, the artist has finally revealed herself! I have an exclusive interview with Renee about the picture, her relationship with Dean, and where we could find her artwork for purchase."
Renee's eyes widened in shock. For purchase? She had a well-rehearsed set of answers about the drawing and Dean. Now she had to think fast about her next course of action. If people truly thought she was the artist, she was going have to come up with a very clever answer.
She wondered how fast she could think of a plausible lie during the interview.