Collision

  Her left eyebrow cocked. “How ugly will it get?”

  “It could get bad.”

  “Oh.”

  “I called my mom. We’re going to stay at my parents’ instead of a hotel.”

  “Moral support?”

  “Something like that. And I think it’s just best if we try to make sure there are always other people around. You know, no staying someplace alone.”

  “Am I too much to resist?” she teased.

  I laughed. “Absolutely. And people will jump to conclusions otherwise.”

  “Conclusions?”

  “The next thing we’ll see are headlines about the former missionary who’s now nobbing her boyfriend in hotels all over the world. Your beliefs are import to you. And they’re important to me. And they’re important to the girls out there who have those same beliefs. The last thing we want is them thinking they should throw it all away for the first guy who comes a long.”

  “You’re sounding like a parent. Or…wait. A real-life role model.”

  “Scary, isn’t it?”

  “Not at all. You fit the role perfectly. You’re a good man. This just solidifies it in my mind.”

  “I’m not saying everyone’s going to believe it. But we surely don’t need to be giving them any more ammunition than necessary.”

  She slapped her thighs and stood. “So this is it? This is where my life turns upside down?”

  “My publicist is writing up a press release. We’ll put it out the day of the Oscars, ’cause they’ll want your name, and otherwise, all you’ll get all night is everyone asking what your name is.”

  “What will this press release say?”

  “That we’ve been dating for a few months and a little about you. The mission website probably won’t be able to handle the amount of hits it’ll be getting.”

  There was a knock on the trailer door before it opened and Jocelyn walked inside.

  “Well, Kei, I hear we have some shopping to do.”

  Kei gulped.

  “Don’t you worry about a thing. You’re going to look amazing. Any suggestions, Cabot?”

  “Orange,” I said without hesitation. “She looks amazing in orange.”

  C H A P T E R

  34

  The change in our lives was instant. From the moment we stepped through customs in Los Angeles, life got as crazy as I could ever remember.

  I gripped Kei’s hand tightly and led her through the airport lobby. Andrew and a few other large men led the way. One of them, Scott, was her new protector, and I made sure she knew not to go anywhere without him.

  The flashes from dozens of cameras were so bright that she kept tripping over her own feet. And the screaming—I’m pretty sure it scared her to death. Her hand was trembling in mine.

  People were shouting my name and asking who she was, but I ignored them. My only thought was to get her through the crowd and into the safety and quiet of the car. We shoved our way through the masses while Andrew and Scott pushed them out of our way. The more we walked, the tighter my grip got. I have no idea who got our luggage or how it made it to the car, but we were in the vehicle and driving away from the airport in a matter of minutes.

  My vision was still spotty after several minutes, and the photographers chased our vehicle all the way to my parents’ house.

  “It’s already all over the Internet,” Cassidy said as soon as we walked through the front door. “Everyone wants to know who this girl is with Cabot.” She reached out and gave Kei a tight hug.

  “I told you to stop reading that stuff,” I snapped.

  “Oh, shut up,” Cassidy snapped back. “But Kei, you looked good in the pictures.”

  “Pictures?”

  “They’re all over the place.”

  “Move out of the way,” Dad said. “Let me see this girl.”

  Cassidy moved aside.

  “Welcome to our home, Kei. I’m Aaron.”

  She held out her hand for him to shake, but instead of shaking it, he used it to pull her to him in a warm hug.

  We were safe inside the walls of the house, and we left the war with the paparazzi outside the gates, at least for a day.

  Although Dad made a full dinner, Kei taught us how to make chapatti, the flat bread we ate in Uganda. The kitchen counter was crowded as the six of us practiced rolling the dough into balls and flattening it out. We were happy with the end result and vowed to make it again. She also introduced them to Ugandan tea with pure cane sugar and Nido dry milk. They all liked it a lot more than I did the first time I had it.

  Kei seemed to enjoy herself and fit right in with my family. They, of course, couldn’t get enough of her. They asked her hundreds of questions, and she gracefully answered each and every one, until she finally wore out and escaped to Cassidy’s old room to go to sleep.

  The next day, her fashion squad—Cassidy, Chloe, and Mom—got her dressed and ready for the Academy Awards.

  “Do you want her hair up or down?” Mom asked as I sat on the end of the bed and watched them at work. “I like it down.”

  “Down it is. Or maybe partially down.”

  Chloe did her hair and Cassidy worked on her makeup while Mom fussed with the dress. “Ever been to a prom or a winter formal?” Cassidy asked.

  Kei tried to shake her head, but Cassidy had a hold of it while she was putting some color on Kei’s eye. “No. Nothing of the sort, although I’ve heard of them.”

  “Well, I guess some girls’ first experience in dressing up like this is prom. Yours just so happens to be the Oscars in front of millions and millions of people.”

  “Aces,” Kei said sarcastically.

  “They’re going to ask you who designed your dress. Just tell them it’s vintage,” Cassidy said.

  “Vintage?”

  “Yes. And the earrings are Neil Lane.”

  “Neil Lane. Vintage, and Neil Lane. Got it.”

  “Just follow Cabot’s cues. He’s done this a lot. He knows what to do, and he’ll lead you right through it. Won’t you, Cabot?”

  I nodded.

  “When you’re standing next to him, wrap one arm around his waist and put the other on your hip, with a little attitude.”

  “Yeah,” Chloe said. “Just think to yourself, Hey, ladies, I’m here with the hottest guy in the country. So suck it.”

  “That doesn’t sound anything like me.”

  “I know, but trust me. It’ll work.”

  “Vintage; Neil Lane; and suck it. Got it.”

  Mom leaned over her shoulder and smiled at her through the mirror. “Just be yourself. You’re going to be amazing.”

  Mom was right. She did do amazing.

  By the time we got out of the car, everyone knew her name and knew that we were dating, so photographers weren’t just screaming our direction; they were screaming her name.

  “Kei, over here. Kei, turn left. Kei, turn right. Kei, right here. Kei, turn around. Kei, look over here. Kei, Kei, Kei, Kei.”

  I’d lead her by the hand for a few feet, we’d pose for some pictures in front of the hundreds of people, and then she’d stand with James and Scott while I answered questions I’d prepared for or posed for photographs alone. A few asked if they could talk to her. She declined as often as she could get away with it. The rest of the time, she told them that it was my night and she was there to support me, not be in the spotlight herself.

  By the time we made it all the way down the carpet, I’d given more than a dozen small interviews, and she was finally getting the hang of it all, we were inside and out of view from the photographers.

  Someone led us to our seats, which were on the second row, and then we settled in for the night. That is, until I was taken away from her to get ready for my presentation.

  They announced my name. I walked out on to the stage with Sofie and read my lines off the teleprompter just like I’d been told. While the video played, I looked down at her for a brief second and got a smile in return.

  When the nigh
t was over, we went straight from the event back to my parents’ house. We stayed there the rest of the week, going out every once in a while to eat or run an errand. My oldest sister, Candice, came to town and brought her kids, so we spent a lot of time playing with them. We also did some shopping, mostly at vintage stores and secondhand stores, and either my mom or one of my sisters came with us so they could help her pick stuff out. I wasn’t any use in that department. She needed clothes for every imaginable type of event, and Mom used my schedule to make sure she had something appropriate for her to wear for each and every one. We also bought her regular clothes to hang out in.

  No matter where we went, somebody was there with a camera to catch us, and usually within minutes of our arrival, a whole mess more photographers showed up. Most of the stores shut down and then closed their blinds or drapes so we could shop in peace.

  According to Chloe, before we were finished with our time in LA, the press coined a new fashion term: missionary chic. “Conservative, yet trendy,” a reporter said. “No cleavage, never too much thigh, and never too formfitting.” Kei was labeled a “trend setter with sleek sophistication, an air of poise, and a love of all things vintage.” Another reporter said that more than likely, she’d never be seen with a word stamped across her backside. That was actually the most accurate report of them all. I could never imagine her wearing a velour track suite with “juicy” sequins on her butt, although it would be hysterical to witness.

  We finished our week in Los Angeles with a press conference for my latest film. Then we left the States and headed for Europe. I managed to get us into Ireland with nobody noticing. Millie was there waiting for us and spent the majority of the two days resting in our hotel room while Kei and I toured. Then the three of us boarded a private jet to France and spent a day in a private tour of Versailles. Even Millie had never had that experience before. The next several nights were the Paris premiere, the London premiere, and the Spain premiere. We finished the week, along with Oliver and Mariah, with two days on the coast of Greece before heading back to the States. While in the States, we hit LA for the premiere, and then Chicago, Dallas, New York, and Denver, all for movie promotions and all accompanied by either one of my sisters or my mom. For the interviews, I pretty much sat in a room, and James and my agent, Sandy, ushered reporters in and out.

  Kei patiently sat in the corner and listened to all of them ask the exact same questions.

  Whenever the subject of Kei and I came up, I said it was a private matter and left it at that.

  Every time a reporter left the room, I shouted, “Oh, King of Glory!” and we both laughed. It had become our own inside joke and something that we did to break up boredom or make each other smile. In other words, we were yelling it a lot.

  During a break, she came over and sat on my lap. “You did a great job of pretending you hadn’t already been asked the questions in some form or another at least six other times within twenty-four hours.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Your acting whilst sitting in that chair was far superior to anything I’ve seen on film. I’m impressed with how gracious you were with the men and women who acted like they were your best pal.”

  “I don’t know half of ’em from Adam.”

  “Well, I have a distinct feeling that you made each and every one feel special and like they were the most creative and intelligent reporter of the day.”

  “Then I do deserve an Academy Award.”

  She leaned over and gave me a small kiss. “You most certainly do.”

  •••••

  Italy was crazy too. Photographers were waiting in the airport, and they followed us everywhere we went and even stalked us while on set for the duration of the shoot. Paps jumped the barricades, swam down the river in boats, and hid in trees in an attempt to get pictures of us together.

  The cast and crew helped protect us from the view of photographers. We went to dinner in groups, and several men surrounded us if we were together on the set, which was rare.

  For the most part, we didn’t have any problems, but one incident got scary for Kei and threw Andrew and Scott into overdrive. She went to the bathroom at a restaurant we were eating at, and just before she unbuttoned her pants, a photographer climbed over the bathroom stall and took a picture. Her screams got all of our attention and about twenty people stormed the bathroom. Andrew caught the guy just as he was climbing out the bathroom window.

  Kei decided to never use a public bathroom again, and swore up and down that she much rather use squatties back home, while she worried a snake or something might crawl out, than a pap take her picture mid squat.

  On set, she stayed to her job as photographer, and I stayed to mine as the star of the show, a job that was now much less lonely and a lot more enjoyable.

  Kei did get help with putting together a documentary. She, Chris, and I spent many night hours in front of the computer. Kei chose the photos and film she wanted to use, and I did the voiceover. Once it was finished, the entire cast and crew watched it in the ballroom at our hotel. Afterward, she got to answer a lot of questions about her life and the people of Uganda. Even I got the chance to share my experiences

  That night, we raised over one hundred thousand dollars for a new children’s village.

  As time went on, there were several requests for Kei to do magazine interviews or photo shoots, but she turned them all down. That was my world, she’d said, and she was only along for the ride. She didn’t want or expect any of the attention to fall on her, but no matter how hard she tried, it still did.

  Unfortunately, Kei and I were the only people who didn’t want any attention on. Reporters wanted information, and they were doing everything in their power to get it.

  C H A P T E R

  35

  Somehow, Kei and I managed to travel around the world and come out not only still in love, but more in love than ever. For her, every experience was a first, just like Africa was for me. And no matter how crazy it got around us or how many people screamed her name or demanded her attention, she handled it with grace and ease. Little did she know that all that attention she’d gotten in Africa would prepare her for attention of a different kind everywhere else in the world.

  While it wasn’t her intention, people had gotten as interested in her as they were me. Her story fascinated them, and her attitude toward all the attention captivated them even more. She was a hit. And like everyone who’d ever met her, they were in love with her.

  The movie wrapped production, and we spent a little over a month back in Uganda. I even got to the point of visiting the hospital and praying with the patients on my own. That time around, Kei encouraged me to go with other team members so I could experience more, learn more, and concentrate on ministry rather than her. We still spent most of our evenings at the Joy House with the kids, and she practically wore out her camera with all the pictures she was taking. She said she wanted to document it all so I could look back one day and marvel at everything I’d experienced and see how different it was the second time around.

  I also spent much of my time in meetings with Kei’s father. We were making plans to build the children’s village. Along with the money she’d raised from the cast and crew, I donated the money so it could start being built immediately. I also committed to building three more and told Mr. Sallee and his team to start looking for more land.

  It wasn’t until we left Uganda and stepped off the plane in Los Angeles that all hell broke loose, a hell that Kei had been trying to hide from since she was seven years old.

  Her birth mother had seen her on the television from her cell in prison. She contacted the press and gave away Kei’s former identity. She hoped that it would draw attention to her case and increase her odds of a judge hearing her appeal. Not only didn’t it help her case, but she hurt her daughter again.

  We heard the news at the airport from the paparazzi who, instead of calling her Kei, called her Anna Beth. As we pushed our way to the car, the repo
rters shouted questions about her birth parents and tried to get her to share details of what had happened.

  As soon as we got to my parents’ house, Kei ran into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

  Within minutes, the house was full of people: my parents and sisters, James, Andrew, and Scott, as well as my agent, my PR person, and several others. We all stood staring at each other, not sure what to do.

  It was James who eventually pulled it together and went into business mode. It was the one time I was grateful that he dealt with the press as much as he did. He knew just what to do. All we needed was for Kei to agree to it.

  Eventually, I knocked on the bathroom door, but she didn’t respond, so I opened it and walked inside. She was sitting in bathtub with the shower curtain pulled shut, although the water wasn’t running and she was fully clothed. I could see her blurry form through the clear sheet of plastic that separated us.

  She peeked around the curtain and then, when she saw it was me, pulled it all the way back and out of the way. I wasn’t shocked to see that she’d been crying.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Are you?”

  “Me?”

  She nodded.

  I locked the door behind me and turned on the overhead fan to drown out our voices. “It depends on how you are.”

  She shrugged.

  I climbed into the bathtub and sat down next to her. Our legs hung over the side.

  “I’m so sorry. I should’ve just kept us on the down low. I was being selfish.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I knew it would come out eventually. You can’t hide something like that forever.”

  “I guess that’s true.”

  “Part of me expected this, although I didn’t expect it to be my own mother who gave out the information.” She laid her head on my shoulder and took my hand in hers. “Can I say something that’s going to cause me to sound horrid?”

  “Of course. You know I love it when you do that.”

  “Part of me is actually happy the truth is out.”