Red Carpet Kiss

by Melissa Brown

  “Yes, we do.” Elle snarled silently at the receiver, wanting to claw Sebastian’s little eyes out. Instead, she took a bite of the sweet strawberry candy. “You take care now.”

  She heard the click on the other end and placed the receiver in the cradle. Sebastian never said good-bye; it was his way of maintaining control. Elle nibbled on the candy, pondering their conversation and what to do next. Confronting Gina was probably not the best avenue to take, but she was tired of the actress and her attitude.

  They had never been besties, but Gina had been especially distant with Elle since that first awkward table read with Nolan. She was embarrassed Elle knew about Nolan and her personal relationship, but in Elle’s opinion, she had taken it too far. Their professional relationship was suffering because of it and she wasn’t quite sure how to fix it if Gina was determined to remain prickly.

  Ignoring her better judgment, Elle texted Gina, asking her to join her in her office for a chat.

  When Gina didn’t reply, Elle resumed writing Nolan’s final scene. Just as her eyes were filling with fresh tears, Nicole buzzed in.

  “Gina is here to see you.”

  Dammit.

  The last thing she wanted was for Gina to think her tears had anything to do with Sebastian’s call. She grabbed new tissues, dabbing her eyes gently so as not to cause splotchy skin. She waved her hands rapidly for fresh air to hit her cheeks, but it was no use. She couldn’t stall any longer.

  “Send her in.”

  Gina opened the door, daggers in her eyes, and sat opposite Elle, saying nothing. Her arms crossed defiantly across her chest set the tone perfectly for how the conversation would go.

  “Nice to see you, Gina. Twizzler?”

  “No, thanks. I’m off sugar.”

  One thing Elle did admire about Gina was her willpower. She was one of those actresses who could lose twenty pounds for a role with no difficulty, no matter the time constraints. Elle could never give up carbs. Ever. Her candy stash helped her get through any crisis, personal or professional, and she had accepted the extra five pounds because of it.

  “Listen, I just spoke to Sebastian.”

  Gina looked at the floor, her chin dipping to her chest. Even though Gina liked to act tough, Elle knew she valued her role on the show and didn’t want to jeopardize it by allowing Sebastian to go too far off the cuff.

  When the actress said nothing, Elle continued. “I hope you know that balancing Luke and Nolan is the reason for the dip in your screen time, and that I’ll do whatever I can to fix it when the story permits.”

  Gina pressed her hands to the arms of her chair, pushing up to her feet. “Is that all?”

  “Whoa, hold on,” Elle said, standing to confront the actress’ abrupt behavior. “What’s going on with you?”

  Once again, Gina crossed her arms, her eyes boring into Elle’s. “I know you’re pissed. About the photos. You’re punishing me because I went out with Luke.”

  “Went out with? We’re not in middle school. You two went out for drinks, a photographer found you. It’s not the end of the world and I’m not punishing you. You know me better than that. I’d never jeopardize my show over petty jealousy.”

  Gina shifted her weight back and forth, her jaw clenched. “Fine, whatever. Are we done?”

  “Listen, I know things have been weird between us since the table read.”

  “You mean when I found out your best friend slept with Nolan?”

  Elle cringed, took a deep breath, and continued. “Yes. But that has nothing to do with me, Gina. You and I—”

  “Did you know?”

  Elle had quite the poker face. She could keep it together in almost any given situation without tipping her hand. But she felt Gina deserved the truth.

  “Yes. But not when it happened. I found out shortly before you did. And at the time, I had no idea you and Nolan were even involved.”

  “Seriously?” The daggers remained in Gina’s eyes, but skepticism climbed onto her face as well. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “I’m dead serious, Gina. In fact, I feel pretty silly I couldn’t tell. I just thought you had amazing chemistry. I still think you do.”

  “Well, we’re over. So . . .” Her eyes moistened and Elle contemplated handing her the tissue box, but she decided against it, afraid Gina might storm off. Gina took a deep breath, raised an eyebrow, and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m on to bigger and better things.”

  Elle couldn’t help but wonder if she was referring to Luke. She suppressed the suspicion brewing inside her, making an informed decision to trust Luke. But the pictures of them laughing and chatting at the bar crept back into her brain.

  “Good for you.” Elle returned to her seat, ready to finish the exchange and return to her script. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Table read, nine o’clock.”

  Gina narrowed her eyes, and Elle suspected she was studying her for vulnerability. She’d let hell freeze over before allowing Gina Romano to see her emotions and conflict over Luke. Only those she trusted the most in the world were allowed to see her at her most exposed. And Gina would never be on that tiny list of people. Elle watched her as she left the office, leaving the door wide open so Elle would have to close it.

  Such a pain in the ass.

  Elle grabbed another Twizzler before closing the door. She placed the tissue box next to her monitor, took a deep breath, and returned to Desmond’s final words.

  “Whitney Bartolina.”

  Elle was so choked up as she clutched the phone to her ear, she almost couldn’t get the words out. But she needed her best friend. She needed her support, her understanding, her love. She cleared her throat and attempted to speak without sobbing.

  “Can you go to lunch?”

  “Ellie.” Whitney only used that name when Elle was upset or in a panic. It was her version of handling Elle with kid gloves. It was endearing and comforted Elle in an inexplicable way. “What’s going on?”

  “I need you.”

  “Gimme five.”

  “Okay.”

  Elle placed the phone back in the cradle and closed the finished document for Desmond’s final script. She knew saying good-bye to his character would be emotional, but she didn’t expect this. She didn’t expect the devastation that consumed her. She wasn’t ready—the script was beautiful and she had every confidence it would play out well on-screen, but she wasn’t ready to let go.

  Whitney arrived, rushing into the office and placing her hands on Elle’s shoulders, peering into her eyes.

  “I’m here. What’s happening?”

  “Desmond, I—I wrote his last words. It’s over.”

  “Oh,” Whitney said with a deliberate nod. Elle knew she understood, at least to some degree, the gravity of the situation. She knew how haunted Elle had been the past ten years, and that Desmond was Elle’s connection to Troy. Despite the fact the real Troy had resurfaced, the character of Desmond was a lifeline for Elle. A connection to their past and the love they had shared.

  “Want to get out of here? Go somewhere quiet?”

  “I don’t care.” Elle dabbed at her face with more tissue. The box was almost empty.

  “Tell you what. Let’s order in.”

  “No pizza!” Elle said quickly, before covering her mouth with her hand. “Sorry, just . . . no pizza.”

  “I get it. I’ll take care of it. Give me two minutes.”

  Whitney walked outside and spoke briefly to Nicole. Elle opened the candy drawer, pouring every bit of sugary comfort onto her desk. When Whitney returned, she tilted her head, eyed the desk and the brightly colored packages covering it, and took a seat, opening a fresh package of Swedish Fish.

  “Nicole’s placing an order with the deli down the block. And she’s clearing your schedule for the rest of the day. Now, talk to me, honey.”

  Elle nodded, feeling a knot form in the back of her throat. “I didn’t think—” She paused. “I didn’t think I’d be like this, ya know? I mean,
I knew it’d be hard. I knew that, but . . . still, I just . . .”

  “Ellie, you’re spinning. Take a second, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

  “This character . . . he’s more than a character . . . to me.”

  “I know he is.”

  Elle stopped, took a deep breath. “I’m ready to tell you about Vegas. About what happened there. None of this will make sense if I don’t.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  Bright sunlight streamed through Troy’s bedroom window. Elle rolled over to avoid starting the day, but was soon quite aware of the time when Troy opened the bedroom door.

  “Rise and shine, sleepy.”

  “Coffee, I smell coffee.” Her voice was deep and raspy from a restful night’s sleep. Troy entered the room, carrying a small tray. A tiny vase with one simple pink rose grabbed her attention immediately.

  “Breakfast in bed. But you have to sit up.”

  “You cooked? I love when you cook.” Elle eased up to a seated position and Troy placed the tray above her legs and a small kiss on her lips. “What did I do to deserve this?”

  “Happy anniversary. We started dating a year ago today.”

  Troy always was the romantic in their relationship. Elle couldn’t believe they’d been dating for an entire year. Where had the time gone? She was the happiest she’d ever been in almost twenty-five years. Which reminded her . . .

  “And my birthday’s tomorrow.”

  “I know.” He kissed her again, this time on the forehead. “It’s a big weekend. In fact, I thought we could talk about that.”

  Elle took a large sip of coffee, savoring Troy’s ability to mix her favorite hazelnut roast with the perfect amount of cream and sugar. “Heaven in a cup” is what she called it, and no one made it as perfectly as he did. Not even she could duplicate his recipe.

  “Talk about what? I’ll be twenty-five, no big deal. Let’s just go to dinner or something.”

  “I had a better idea.”

  Elle narrowed her eyes at Troy, whose expression had changed in an instant. He looked anxious as his fingers tapped quickly on his thigh.

  “How about a trip?”

  “Like a getaway?” Elle brightened at the idea, then bit her bottom lip, wondering where they might go.

  “Something like that,” Troy replied. His fingers continued to tap anxiously as Elle pondered the possibilities. Where would they go? Perhaps a road trip up to Door County for wine sampling. Perhaps a trip down to Champaign to visit their alma mater. No matter the location, she could think of no better way to spend the weekend. Until she saw it.

  Troy reached into his pocket, placing a velvet box on the tray.

  “Oh my God,” Elle said, her voice deadpan and her eyes wide as she looked down at the unexpected gift. “Is that—?”

  “Look, I know we’ve never talked about this, but . . . it’s all I can think about. You, me, a future together. I want to marry you, Rigby.”

  Elle’s palms were sweating and adrenaline coursed through her veins.

  Marriage? Really?

  “Troy, I—”

  “I remember back in college, you said you hated fancy weddings . . . you wanted to get married on a whim. You said it was ‘the epitome of romance.’”

  Elle remembered saying that, but was astounded Troy remembered as well. He’d paid attention.

  “Let’s do it, Rigby. Let’s get married today. I’m so in love with you.”

  “Today?” Elle’s heart pounded and her belly flipped. She scrunched her nose as she pondered something she knew she wasn’t quite ready for. “I mean, I—”

  Troy’s eyes were wide and bright, sparkling in the morning sunshine. Elle’s mouth went dry, overwhelmed by the proposal. They’d spent an entire year together, and unlike the past when all they could do was argue, they’d had three hundred and sixty-four days of absolute joy. Picnics in the park, museums on the weekends, nights on the couch with Chinese takeout or a Chicago-style pizza. Troy was thoughtful, protective, and romantic. And she loved him . . . more than she could ever imagine loving another person.

  “Do you love me, Rigby?”

  “Of course I do. You know that.”

  “Please marry me. Please make me the happiest man alive.” A crease formed above his nose. To deny him happiness would kill her. And she loved Troy Saladino. She really did.

  “Yes.” The word flew from her mouth. All she could think of was pleasing the man she loved so very much. “But where?”

  “Where else? Vegas, baby.”

  “Oh my God,” Elle whispered, struggling to catch her breath. “I’ve never been to Vegas.”

  Everything Elle knew about Las Vegas she’d learned from movies and commercials. All she could picture was a dirty chapel with a pastor dressed up like Elvis Presley. Her stomach churned at the thought.

  “Well, that’s about to change.”

  Troy opened the box, revealing a simple princess-cut diamond on a white gold band. Elle sighed as she took in its beauty and simplicity. Troy knew her so well. They’d never looked at rings together, but if they had, this was the exact ring she would have selected. Simple, classy, and gorgeous. Troy eased it onto her shaky finger. A tear slid down her cheek as she looked into his eager eyes.

  “It fits you perfectly.” Troy raised her fingertips to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her pale skin.

  “Are you sure about this?” Elle blurted out, again without considering the consequences of her words. Troy grimaced, but nodded firmly.

  “I’ve never been more sure. But you . . . I want you to be sure. If this is too much, you can think about it, take some time, we can wait—”

  Part of her wanted to take advantage of that offer. To ponder the idea of their future together. Hell, she’d only been awake for less than five minutes. And there was part of her that wasn’t even certain she was awake. What if this was all a dream? But her heart had other plans.

  “No.” She shook her head decisively. “Eleanor Saladino. I like the sound of that.”

  “Eleanor Rigby Saladino,” he corrected her.

  “Right,” she said with a laugh. She took a bite of her buttery rye toast and another sip of coffee.

  “You’ve seriously made me the happiest man alive.”

  Troy leaned in, pushed her hair behind her shoulders, and placed soft kisses on the delicate skin of her neck. She shuddered with pleasure as his lips continued to explore her skin.

  “So . . . when do we leave?”

  Troy pulled back, running his fingers through his short dark hair. “Our flight leaves in three hours.”

  “Holy crap.” Elle covered her mouth with her hand.

  He’d already booked the flight?

  Her brain was running a mile a minute, wondering just how long this plan had been in the works. How he’d been certain she’d say yes. She couldn’t let Troy see a look of consternation on her face. She did her best to focus on the present. “I guess we’d better get ready then.” Elle scarfed down her toast and downed her coffee.

  “I borrowed luggage from my folks and I’m already packed. We just have to swing by your place on the way to the airport.”

  Adrenaline coursed through Elle’s body as she took the fastest shower of her life. As she scrubbed down her skin, she avoided the little voice in her head questioning whether this was the best choice. After all, she still had her apartment and Troy had his and they each had roommates. The logistics were complicated and it overwhelmed her to think about it, so she pushed the thoughts from her mind, focusing instead on the romantic gesture Troy had made. If it was possible, she was falling even more in love with him with each passing minute, knowing the preparation he’d put into making this weekend romantic and special.

  Elle couldn’t stop her knees from bobbing up and down as they sat in the limousine. Troy’s hand rested in her lap.

  “You okay?”

  Elle’s throat was dry as the limousine approached their hotel. Desperately, she attempted to quell t
he apprehension that mounted in her chest. Troy wrapped an arm around her and leaned in close.

  “You seem nervous.”

  “I’m just excited,” Elle lied. “It’s a big day, right?”

  “The biggest.” Troy grinned from ear to ear as he peered out the window. Elle watched the man she loved, conflict overflowing within her. She loved him—there was no doubt about that. But, she couldn’t silence the voice in her head that screamed she was making a mistake. A big one.

  When they arrived at the Bellagio Hotel, Elle and Troy checked in to their room. They’d discussed their plans. First, they would retrieve their marriage license, followed by a romantic dinner at Vic & Anthony’s Steakhouse. And finally, they would marry under the stars of Las Vegas. Troy had arranged for a gazebo ceremony at Mon Bel Ami Wedding Chapel at midnight. Elle was again blown away by his thoughtfulness. When he’d shown her the website for Mon Bel Ami, she knew it was completely her taste. Pictures of a rustic gazebo with hanging greenery and twinkling lights made her swoon.

  The only thing missing was a dress.

  Elle had packed several cocktail dresses, but none of them seemed proper to marry in. She wasn’t sure if there was time to purchase one, but she knew she wanted to feel like a bride. And no cocktail dress would help her feel that way.

  “Is there time . . . to get a dress?” Elle asked when she emerged from the enormous bathroom in their suite. The fluffy robe was soft against her skin, and she snuggled up to Troy, who was sitting on the bed.

  Troy grinned.

  “You didn’t.”

  “Check the closet.”

  Elle opened the closet doors and gasped. Five different dresses, sheathed in clear garment bags, were hanging from the bar of the closet.

  “They’re rentals. So unfortunately, you won’t be able to keep the one you choose.”

  Tears brewed in her eyes as she stared at Troy, who’d joined her by the closet entrance. “I can’t believe it. You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

  “I wanted it to be special.” He shrugged.

  “It is. It so is.” Elle wrapped her arms around Troy, pulling him close. Then, she turned her attention back to the five garment bags. “Now, which one should I wear?”