The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 88

"What's going on?" Britney lowered her window halfway and peered ahead at the long line of cars queuing up in front of the Hilton. "Why is the traffic so bad?"

The driver glanced ahead and replied, "Looks like there's some kind of event at the hotel today."

Britney checked her watch, a flicker of anxiety on her face as she muttered, "Matthew's still waiting. We're already well past the time we were supposed to meet."

They hadn't seen each other in a long time and had both managed to get back to Los Angeles from out of town to meet at the Beverly Hills Hilton. But today, the hotel was hosting a major event, and a sea of cars had completely blocked the small plaza and entrance.

After another five minutes of waiting, Britney couldn't take it anymore. She pushed open the car door and announced to the driver, "I'm walking from here."

"Miss Spears, you—"

The driver didn't even get half the sentence out before Britney had already stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut.

In her haste, she forgot to put on her sunglasses and sun hat. And though it was only nine in the morning, the sun was already beating down, fraying her already taxed nerves.

Fortunately, she had a parasol with her, which she opened as she headed toward the Hilton. She had only gone about forty meters when she suddenly heard what sounded like someone calling her name from behind.

"Britney!" a man's voice shouted from behind her. "Britney, over here!"Hearing the shout, Britney instinctively turned, only to see the window of a nearby SUV slide down. Camera lenses immediately poked out, followed by the rapid-fire clicking of shutters.

Britney instantly realized she'd run into paparazzi and spun around to walk away.

The reporter in the car couldn't believe his luck, running into Britney in front of the Hilton. A few simple photos weren't worth much, though; she'd been on tour for a while, so news and images of her were everywhere.

He was quick-witted, however, and immediately recalled the media frenzy from the previous year surrounding Britney's bitter feud with Christina Aguilera. He shouted, "Britney, Christina Aguilera won for Best New Artist and Best Female Pop Vocal Performance at the last Grammys! What do you think about that?"

The question was a direct hit, sharp and laced with undisguised mockery. Britney stopped dead in her tracks and spun back toward the reporter's car.

Flustered, irritated, and provoked by a reporter who had just brought up the one thing she least wanted to hear, she could no longer control her emotions.

Britney lowered her parasol, her eyes fixing on its pointed metal tip, then on the car. She was ready to march right over and give that reporter a piece of her mind.

"Miss Spears!"

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from the distance. Britney recognized it as Matthew's and instinctively froze, turning her head to see a man in simple sunglasses jogging toward her.

Matthew had also been caught in the traffic jam, forcing him to park his secondhand Ford in a nearby lot and walk the rest of the way. He'd spotted Britney's car on his way, and after a quick word with her driver, he'd rushed to catch up, arriving just in time to see the reporter provoking her. He had called out immediately to stop her.

Keeping his head low, Matthew jogged up and played the part of a bodyguard, guiding Britney toward the hotel entrance. The moment she saw him, Britney forgot all about the reporter.

"Damn it!" the reporter swore. "That idiot Britney was about to lose her temper! Fucking bodyguard!"

On instinct, he raised his camera and snapped a few more photos of Britney and the back of her bodyguard. It was better than nothing, a somewhat newsworthy shot.

Matthew shot her a reassuring look.

Thinking he was trying to cheer her up, Britney fell silent and followed him into the Hilton.

An elevator arrived, and Britney followed Matthew in.

As the elevator ascended, Matthew asked, "What was that all about back there?"

"That moron couldn't keep his mouth shut," Britney replied, her voice filled with venom. "He brought up Christina Aguilera winning two Grammys."

She recounted the entire incident in vivid detail, including what she had been about to do before he intervened.

The elevator arrived at their floor, and Matthew's room was right by the doors. They stepped out, the earlier incident forgotten. The moment Matthew unlocked the door and they stepped inside, they were desperately pulling at each other, tearing away clothes.

It had been far too long since they'd last seen each other, and they wasted no time frantically closing every last inch of distance between them.

...

For the rest of the day, from morning through the afternoon, neither Matthew nor Britney set foot outside the room, unleashing their pent-up desires in the most primitive and frantic way possible.

Finally, exhausted, Matthew and Britney showered and sprawled out on the suite's sofa, talking about everything that had happened since they'd last seen each other.

They had spent more time together today than they had in the past six months combined.

As they talked, the conversation eventually drifted back to the incident in front of the hotel.

Britney seemed to get angry all over again. "If you hadn't stopped me, I would have given him a piece of my mind! I would've poked him with my parasol. These reporters are so annoying."

Matthew frowned slightly.

He took one of her hands in his and thought for a moment before asking, "Have you thought about what would happen tomorrow if you'd actually jabbed that reporter with your parasol?"

Britney leaned lazily against him and shook her head. "Didn't think about it. I just wanted to hurt him, right then and there."

Matthew felt a wave of exasperation but said patiently, "Think about the consequences."

Britney blinked her bright eyes, thinking for a moment before venturing, "That bastard would get a picture, and it'd be all over the papers tomorrow?"

"Exactly." Matthew kissed her forehead. "It would be all over the press. The image and reputation you've worked so hard to build would take a hit. People would use it to try and discredit you."

With a train of thought that was uniquely her own, Britney immediately latched on. "Aguilera would love that!"

Her voice instantly rose in pitch. "That bitch is here too, for the MTV Music Awards! I know she's staying in this hotel!"

Matthew nodded, and before he could say a word, Britney demanded, "Do you think she sent that reporter?"

"That doesn't matter," Matthew said, steering the conversation back. "Honey, you'll just create a ton of trouble for yourself if you act impulsively."

Britney asked, a little irritated, "So what am I supposed to do?"

Matthew gently stroked her blonde hair to soothe her. "Just ignore them," he said.

"But," Britney looked up at him, "a lot of their questions are so irritating."

"They're just a bunch of clowns staring up at their queen," Matthew said, not wanting reporters to manipulate her in the future. "You're a noble queen. Does a queen lower herself to the level of clowns? All a queen needs to do is show them her proudest, most beautiful side."

Britney considered his words. "I think I get it."

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. That was a perfect way to put it, he thought.

Britney seemed to slowly grasp his meaning. She tilted her head and kissed him, saying, "I won't let reporters provoke me anymore."

She stood up and started looking for her clothes. "Let's go get some dinner. I'm starving."

Matthew started gathering his own clothes. "I hear the steaks here are great. Let's try the restaurant on the second floor."

They got dressed and took the elevator to the second-floor restaurant. It wasn't very crowded, with most of the tables empty. Matthew chose a spot against the wall, and had just finished placing their orders when his phone rang.

It was Helen, likely calling about work. Matthew excused himself to an empty corner of the restaurant to take the call.

Helen informed him that he had received an official email from the production team of The Fast and the Furious, asking him to report to the set in a few days for training.

"Got it."

Matthew hung up, made a quick stop at the restroom, and when he returned to the restaurant, he found another woman with long blonde hair standing at their table, glaring at Britney with a look of pure animosity.