Starstruck Read Online Paige Laurens

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors: Paige Laurens Advertisement1

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By the time I arrive I’m teetering close to thirty minutes late. I let blondie exit first and take a moment to collect myself. I haven’t even left the elevator bank yet and already my nerves are at an all time high. The foyer is far nicer than the one on my floor, and I take a moment to stare out the large window at the beach below. Barbados is stunning, and I find myself slowly calming down just from the view alone. I almost don’t care that Asher Montgomery is on this very floor, and maybe even just behind that wall over there.

Almost.

Is my crush possibly subsiding? Am I finally maturing with age?

The thought makes me laugh. I’m pretty sure on my deathbed I’ll still obsess over Asher Montgomery.

A door slams, and I’m brought back to reality. I count to sixty before making my way down the hall, stopping to catch my reflection in a mirror.

I look frazzled.

With no time to spare I quickly re-tame my long, boringly straight and currently extremely blah-looking brown hair. I fumble through my bag and dab blush on my otherwise ghostly pale face, regretting not putting on any makeup this morning.

Whatever, I shrug. It’s too late now.

I take a deep breath and continue down the hall. One last skirt adjustment, and I’m about to knock on the door when it opens.

“Are you Liesl?” a lady appears looking franticly stressed.

“Ye-”

“You’re late. Have a seat,” she snips, and her long dress sashays in her wake as she saunters in the opposite direction.

Whoa, okay.

Left on my own I continue inside, stopping at the suite’s large sitting - turned - waiting room area. It’s bustling with Asher’s entourage and journalists. I spot the reporters easily, like rocks, still and stern, scoping out their competitors out of the corner of their eyes. The lady next to me is holding onto her belongings for dear life, like we’re going down with the Titanic.

This is too much!

I drop my purse on the floor and throw the latest copy of Teen Scene on top of it. It creates a loud, popping sound and everyone’s eyes dart my way. I flash a big smile, about to say something, but my phone dings and captures my attention.

Jess: Give him a smooch and I’ll come bail you out of jail!

I roll my eyes and start typing my reply, absentmindedly looking up only to spot Sam. I nod, just as she waves. She works in the same office, for another b-list teen magazine, and I’m convinced she’s the only sane person in the entire building. Even though we aren’t super close, I like her. Her comments about my over-achieving boss are hysterical.

As our eyes meet she starts fanning herself, and I can’t help but chuckle, dying to ask how it went. She motions to her phone. I should text her when I’m finished so we can compare notes. I eagerly nod.

Then a lady with hair so tight it looks like her entire face is being pulled back appears, brushing past her like no one else exists.

“We’re ready for an... uh, Ms. Harris?” she looks up from her tablet.

“That’s me!” I stand, feeling for my questions in the outer part of my purse.

I walk towards her. “I’m sorry I’m late,” I smile.

Nothing.

I know she heard me, but is... choosing to not respond?

That’s fun.

We walk down a long corridor and into another living room area, but unlike the hustle and bustle down the hall, it's empty and quiet. I hear the waves crashing below via the slightly ajar balcony door, even though we’re fourteen floors above the ocean. The tight haired lady’s phone rings, and the shrill of technology interrupts the calm sound of nature. She motions me to go ahead as she takes the call.

I continue into the elegantly decorated room alone, the colors neutral and serene with pops of blues, greens, and oranges. The teak décor is tropical, and the oversized chair in the corner appears cozy. I abruptly stop short at the large security guard sitting at the wet bar. He offers a tiny nod, and I slowly turn the corner and follow his stare.

There's a massive coffee table in front of a light gray L-shaped couch, and holy crap, on it sits Asher Montgomery.

I freeze.

He’s just there, playing on his phone. It’s so normal, and yet blows me away. He clearly didn’t hear me come in, so I'm just standing in the middle of the room unnoticed, studying him like some huge creep.

Stalker.

His expression is nothing short of utter boredom, and as he presses the device’s buttons he appears impatient. His dirty blonde poufy hair is slightly messed up, like he recently woke up or something. A white polo hugs his chest so tightly that my hands ball into fists just to stop from reaching out and touching him. It's hard to remember he's just a person when he looks like a God. The room, the world - everything seems small and unimportant. I think I half expect him to grow wings and fly away.


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