So I Married a Rockstar

Chapter Nineteen

Ch.19: The Dark Side of Fame

"For the record, I'm not happy about this," Jude said, watching as I checked again that I had my phone and keys.

"Yes, you've said, but I still have to go to work," I said.

Jude caught my hand. "Camden, do you have any idea what you're about to walk into?"

"No," I admitted.

"So why don't you stay home today?"

I noticed that he thought of the loft as my home too, and warmth spread through my chest.

"Because I can't afford to lose this job," I said.

Jude was a multimillionaire and could easily take care of me if I no longer had a job. But even if I wanted that, we weren't in a stable enough place. Neither of us knew what would happen at the end of this trial, and I wasn't stupid enough to throw away my only source of income – however meagre it was – when I might not even be married next month.

Maybe today would be all kinds of crazy, but I still had to face it.

"Okay, but Don is taking you there and picking you up at the end of the day, and if you need anything, you call me," Jude said.

I poked his abs. "Are you worried about me?" I teased.

"Yes," he said.

I'd expected him to tease me back, and the seriousness in his voice and expression took me by surprise.

"I'll be fine," I said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

He grabbed my hand and held it for a moment, and it was strangely intimate. I'd been holding hands with boys since I was eleven, but this felt different. It felt like Jude wanted to say something but he didn't know how, and I squeezed his hand because I didn't know how either.

***

I'd known that everyone I worked with would probably treat me differently now, but I was unprepared for the silence that fell over The Tipsy Swallow when I walked in.

Paul and Mia both froze in the middle of putting away clean glasses, their mouths slightly open as they stared at me from behind the bar. Samantha, who'd been crouched down, rearranging the bottled drinks in the fridges, straightened up, her expression carefully neutral.

"Camden," she said, and she couldn't hide the surprise in her voice. "I wasn't sure you'd be in today."

"Why wouldn't I?" I said.

Andrea emerged from the cellar, a box of tonic waters balanced under one arm, and stopped dead, her eyes locked on me.

I'd worked here for over a year, alongside these same people, and every inch of the place – from the swallows, flowers, and cocktails painted on the walls, to the black-board floor, to the pastel padded seats – was familiar to me. But suddenly I felt like I'd walked into a bar that I'd never seen before.

The Camden-shaped space that I'd carved out here was missing, and the people that I spent three days a week with were suddenly strangers.

It made me feel tense and nervous.

Samantha glanced at her other employees. "I just thought . . ." Her voice trailed off.

I'd never seen her lost for words before, and it deepened that sensation of everything being off-kilter and weird.

"I'd never miss a shift without warning you in advance. You should know that," I said, stung that she thought I'd be so unprofessional.

"We thought you might be at home with your rockstar husband," Paul said, winking at me.