by Maisey Yates
Nina had borrowed a play from her mother’s book: face your critics looking like a star. She’d headed straight to Fifth Avenue and enlisted an in-house stylist at Saks to help find the right dress: “I’m going to an event and I’m not sure what kind of reception I’ll get.”
“Sounds like you’re venturing into shark-infested waters.”
“Something like that. I need to look devastatingly beautiful. Can you help me?”
“Darling, that’s my expertise.”
The gauzy one-shoulder dress she wore was the first he’d put her in, but they’d kept coming back to it again and again. She appreciated the way it hugged her figure, but the pleats and folds made it easy to wear. To complete the look, the stylist had insisted on gold accessories. And to save a trip to a hair salon and stave off Miami’s humidity, Nina wore her hair in a long French braid.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the host said, “please welcome Julian L. Knight.”
There was a fresh round of applause. Julian smiled and waved, but his gaze swept the front row until his eyes locked with hers. Nina’s aggravation dissipated. Briefly, they were alone in the packed auditorium. Nina nodded her encouragement. All those nights they’d stayed up working on the script and those long days on set, she’d been with him almost from the start. She was with him now. They might never ride off into the sunset together, but she was on his side.
“Mr. Knight, you are better known as Thunder. From action hero to movie director, that’s quite a leap. How did you go about it?”
“First I’d like to thank you for having me. I love Miami Beach, and I’m happy to be back.”
The audience cooed at his words. They loved him and Nina loved them for loving him—although, to be sure, she still hated him.
“To answer your question, the story idea came to me a long time ago. I spent years working on it, but I could only take it so far. I had to wait for the right people to come into my life. People like your hometown hero, Francisco Cortes, whom I consider a mentor and father figure at this point.” He paused for applause. Francisco twisted around in his chair and blew kisses to his fans. Grace looked proud and…for the first time ever, surly Grace Guzman looked happy. She also looked devastatingly chic in a black Versace dress, but that was classic Grace.
“I’m lucky enough to count my neighbor’s nanny as one of my dearest friends,” Julian continued. “At the right moment, she gave me the push I needed.”
“Your neighbor’s nanny!” the host exclaimed. “Are you comfortable sharing their name?”
“Absolutely. Rosie Parker.” Julian scanned the audience. “Where are you, Rosie? Stand up and let the people see you.”
A petite brunette stood from the second row and waved like Queen Elizabeth to great cheers. Nina dabbed away tears from the corners of her eyes. She’d never met Rosie, but had heard all about her. Some might be surprised that Julian would rather befriend the rich neighbor’s nanny than the neighbor himself, but not Nina. He had such an open, generous heart. Not a pretentious bone in his hunky body.
“As someone who has followed your career in the press,” the host said, “it sounds like you’ve grown a lot.”
Julian nodded. “You could say that.”
“Anyone else you’d like to thank publicly tonight?”
“Nina Taylor.”
“Your cowriter?” the host asked, as if there were any doubt.
Nina had stiffened at the sound of her name. Should she stand and wave, too? Or could she slink under her chair? Soon, though, the theater went dark and the curtain rose. The movie screen lit up with a still image of her on the rooftop deck at Sand Castle, her linen shirtdress billowing in the breeze. It was the first photo he had taken of her. I want you to see what I see. That morning he had sent her a copy of the script; both their love affair and creative partnership had begun.
In the next photo, she was standing in the boat that Julian had chartered, staring at the turquoise sea. The sky was bursting with oranges and pinks, almost as if in celebration of a love they had not yet declared.
The photos that followed were candid shots taken by the cinematographer during production. She and Julian reading off the same script, walking around the set hand in hand, talking with the crew, laughing at jokes long forgotten, dancing at the wrap party.
When the lights flickered on, Julian stood alone on stage, looking down at her. Nina gripped the armrests, torn in two by terror and tenderness. He raised the microphone to his lips, and his smooth voice filled the theater. “You published your response, and now it’s my turn.”
Oh, no… She raised a hand to her forehead to shield her face. She did not want photographers capturing the moment she at long last came undone.
“Nina, you are my creative partner, my muse and my best friend. The night I lost you, I was more concerned with protecting my reputation than the woman I loved. It pains me to admit it, but that’s the awful truth. After you left, I didn’t think you could ever forgive me, or that I even deserved forgiveness.”
What was he doing? Hadn’t he read her blog post? She’d been firm on keeping the public out of their affairs. He’d had every opportunity to speak with her. She did not want to have this conversation in a room full of strangers. “Julian, please,” she said. “Don’t do this.”
“Goldie, let me say this one last thing.”
He’d managed to turn a nickname that she despised into a sweet endearment. Damn him for weaponizing every tender memory! What was he trying to do? Rip her heart out of her chest?
“I betrayed you. And by staying away, I know I must have hurt you. All I wanted was to protect you—”
Someone heckled from deep within the audience. “Dump him, honey! He doesn’t love you! This is all for show!”
Fueled by outrage, Nina jetted to her feet and faced the assembly. This was not the audience participation part of the show. “You don’t know him! Mind your business!”
The response came lightning fast. “He made it our business!”
Nina couldn’t argue against that. This grand romantic gesture wasn’t worth their privacy. She swiveled around to take it up with Julian. Come to think of it, this did have all the trappings of a stunt. If he pulled a ring from his pocket and dropped to one knee, she would punch him in the face. Only Julian did not appear fazed by any of this. He laughed at the heckler. “I love this woman, and I don’t care who knows.”
Oh, God! That laugh! She remembered the first time she’d heard it in the courtyard at Sand Castle, the day their eyes had met and she’d lost all good sense. This was her man. She loved him. There was no denying it.
“Just kiss and make up already!” Valerie cried. “This is killing me!”
Nina turned to confront her, but found her cousin, Grace and Francisco all beaming up at her encouragingly. She was reminded of what Grace had said the first night they’d talked: for some people, it takes a village.
She took one step toward the stage, one step toward Julian. His eyes were bright with emotion, and no force in the world could keep the words locked inside her. “I love you, Julian Knight. Okay? Happy? I love you! I don’t want to live without you. Now, please stop trying to protect me from things. I hate it.”
The assembly erupted in bravos and cheers. Julian dropped the microphone and smoothly leaped off the stage like the action star he absolutely was. He drew her into his arms and kissed her. They kissed as if a roomful of people were not watching, as if photographers weren’t snapping photos like mad. He cupped her face and kissed her tenderly, lovingly, until Nina was out of breath and out of words to express her love. Then he released her, stepped away, pulled a ring out of his pocket and sank down on one knee.
Nina didn’t hear the crowd gasp. All the world faded to black.
Epilogue
“We’re here on the red carpet with the it couple of the moment, Nina Taylor and Julian Knight. Wel
come and congratulations on your engagement!”
“Thank you.”
“Thanks.”
“Julian, Midnight Sun is in the running for some of the night’s top awards, including best director, best actress in a leading role and best original screenplay.”
“Don’t forget best cinematography.”
“How could I forget? The film is so visually arresting! So, tell our viewers, how do you feel tonight?”
“Incredibly proud of the work and of the people who came together to make art. It is an awesome feeling.”
“Nina Taylor, this is your first award season as a nominee. What is going through your mind?”
“I’m a little emotional. It was my mother’s dream to walk the red carpet—and here I am!”
“Your mother was an actress.”
“That’s right. She’s in my heart tonight, but it’s wonderful to share billing with Julian. He thrust me into this. It’s his job to see me through.”
“Such a beautiful partnership! But speaking of partnerships, Bettina Ford credits you, Julian, for her breakthrough performance. What are your thoughts?”
“Bettina is a force of nature. She did not need any help from me.”
“Nina, how do you plan to celebrate if you win?”
“As soon as the festivities are over, we fly back to Miami, where we plan to decompress. And by that I mean start working on the next project.”
“What about wedding plans? Can you share anything about that?”
“Sorry. That’s off-limits.”
“No doubt! Well…best of luck you two, for tonight and forever.”
July 5. Julian Knight and Nina Taylor were wed last night in Miami Beach, Florida. The couple tied the knot at the hotel formerly known as Sand Castle. They exchanged vows poolside in front of fifty of their loved ones. Thereafter, the groom offered his bride the keys to the mansion as a wedding gift. They now have plenty of space to display the multiple awards won for their first collaborative effort, Midnight Sun. —Vanities
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781488070372
Scandal in the VIP Suite
Copyright © 2021 by Nadine Seide
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The Rancher’s Wager
Copyright © 2021 by Maisey Yates
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Copyright © 2021 by Sophia Singh Sasson
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Copyright © 2021 by Nadine Gonzalez
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