Movie Star By Lizzie Pepper by Hilary Liftin Page A

relationship and, for that matter, my image. I didn’t want to be seen as a fame whore. People should know that what we had was real. This was love.
    So that is what brought us to the infamous “Love of My Life” serenade on top of the car. Sigh.
    Everyone already knows what happened, and I realize now how it looked to the world, but if you will, please try to see it all through my eyes: Rob and I were on our way home from a charity luncheon at Geoff and Patricia’s in Beverly Hills. The paparazzi had followed us there, and now they were following us back home. Earlier that day,
Rounder
had released a particularly offensive article, listing the professional pros that being in a relationship with Rob offered me. They labeled me “career-climber Lizzie.” I was quiet on the way home, and Rob knew why.
    “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything,” he said for the umpteenth time.
    “I know. You’re right. But I still care.”
    “Pull over,” Rob suddenly said to Lewis, the driver. We were on Beverly Drive, in the heart of Beverly Hills. The sidewalks were thick with pedestrians, an anonymous mix of locals and tourists. Lewis swerved sharply to the curb, and there was nearly a paparazzi pileup behind us. They slammed on their brakes, stopping in a cluster around us.
    “What are you doing?” I said.
    “I’m going to tell them the truth. I love you. Plain and simple.” Rob threw the car door open. The cameramen were out of their cars at once, pushing closer, an eager, confused mass.
    “Rob—stop!” I said, but he was determined.
    “Come,” Rob said, and took my arm, pulling me out after him. He lifted me up to sit on the hood of the car.
    A crowd instantly gathered on the sidewalk, cell phones raised in salute, and the moment Rob climbed up to stand on the hood in front of me, they went wild. Like every girl who was a teenager when
Great and True
came out, I knew Rob’s “Love of My Life” scene. His serenade of Lexy Hartfield in the bed of the pickup truck was the moment preserved in the poster that Aurora had on her bedroom door, the scene that had won the hearts of girls across America. It had been replayed on entertainment TV ad nauseam when he and Lexy got married. And now it was happening to me.
    Rob started crooning “Love of My Life.”
    “Oh my God, stop! You ridiculous person.” I stood up next to him and rose on my toes to kiss him, not a little bit desperate to shut him up.
    He put an arm around me and we faced the crowd. He said, “Let me introduce the love of my life, Elizabeth Pepper!”
    And just like that, I was christened with a new, sophisticated brand. Lizzie Pepper, girl next door, was all grown up and worthy of Rob Mars. Henceforth, I was to be Elizabeth Pepper. Frankly, I had no idea people would make such a big deal about it. My real name had always beenElizabeth. It was on all my credit cards and checkbooks. It felt a bit too formal and un-me—Aurora teased me for it—but Rob liked it, and I thought I’d get used to it. I was a woman now, even if I didn’t exactly feel like one.
    Rob leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I love you.” You saw that happen on YouTube, but what you didn’t know was that it was the first time he had told me he loved me. I mean, he’d talked about his love for me, as in “I don’t mind having people see that we love each other,” but this was the first time he had said those three words, simple and direct. Leave it to Rob to save it for a dramatic moment.
    We pulled apart and paused for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes. I saw my sweet Rob, willing, wanting to give me the world. He loved me with all his heart, and those grand gestures were the only way he knew to express it. Swept up in the moment, I forgot the pedestrians, the paparazzi, the slightly precarious car hood. All I wanted was to show Rob that he didn’t need to try half this hard. I took his hand and pressed it to my heart. How did I think people would