Red Carpet Kiss

by Melissa Brown

  “You’ll meet him at the Globes.”

  Instead of an excited smile, her best friend glared at her. “Wait. You’re bringing him?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “To the Globes?”

  “Yes, Whitney. I’m bringing Troy as my date to the Globes.”

  “But Luke will be sitting at the same table. Don’t you think that’s a little cruel?”

  Elle crossed her arms, tilting her chin toward the ceiling. “He broke my heart. Don’t you think that’s a little cruel?”

  “Oh my God . . . you’re trying to hurt him, aren’t you? You’re trying to make him jealous.” Whitney’s eyes widened, but instead of anger, she appeared proud of Elle. “You little tart! This is brilliant.”

  “No, you don’t understand, I’m not trying to do anything to Luke. I just want Troy to come with me, to experience the Globes.”

  “Uh-huh.” Whitney pursed her lips, then winked. “I understand completely. And just for the record, I’d do the exact same thing if I were in your shoes. If I could find a date to piss off Nolan, I totally would. But I’m afraid that’s not in the cards. Mind if I borrow Luke?”

  Elle glared at Whitney.

  “Kidding, kidding!”

  Elle knew there was no sense in arguing with Whitney over her intentions in inviting Troy to the award show. And if she was being honest with herself, there was a part of her that would delight in making Luke regret his decision to walk away from her. She didn’t want to use Troy, or exact revenge. Her feelings for him were genuine, and she would never hurt him intentionally. But the hole Luke left was significant and the idea of regaining the upper hand in that scenario was too enticing to reject.

  She could only hope sitting at a table with Luke, Troy, Gina, Whitney, and Nolan would not be the most uncomfortable four hours of her life. But somehow, she knew it would be exactly that.

  Luke sat in the limousine, his hands trembling as he gazed out at the mob of photographers surrounding the red carpet of the Golden Globes at The Beverly Hilton. The normally laid-back actor had dreamed of this moment for most of his life. He was a successful actor on the hottest drama on television, arriving at his very first award show. His hands should have been trembling with excitement and nervous energy over this monumental event in his professional life.

  But that wasn’t the source of his trembling hands. Instead, all he could think about was Elle. Gorgeous, headstrong, stubborn Elle. Three weeks prior, his temper allowed her to slip through his fingers. And tonight he would see her in some gorgeous dress, looking as hot as humanly possible, and he would want to take her hand in his, sit together at the table, drink wine, laugh, and celebrate the success of the show. And when the curtain closed and they retreated to the after-party at the estate of the president of the network, they’d lounge together on a couch near the pool, drinking champagne and toasting the awards received that evening. Elle would make a comment about how next year, Luke would be holding a statue of his own. They’d retreat to his home, where they’d cap off the evening with a late-night swim in the ocean and cuddling in his hammock.

  But that wasn’t going to happen.

  None of it.

  Instead, he was mentally preparing for an evening of uncomfortable glances and stifled conversation during the agonizing four-hour taping of the award show. If he was lucky, Elle would sit beside him and they would get past their fight and petty miscommunication. Elle would see Gina was crazy, that he never cooperated with her on any of her crazy schemes, and that his love for her was truer than anything else in his life. He loved her. And he’d never loved anyone before. Not like this.

  And right then, he made the decision to win her back, to apologize for walking away. She was right—he told her she was worth waiting for and yet he abruptly stopped waiting. Well, not anymore. He would stand by her side and convince her they belonged together, even if it took all night.

  Just as his newly confident self grabbed the handle of the limousine door, a swarm of photographers surrounded his vehicle, as if somehow they knew he was about to emerge. With confidence, he stepped from the limousine, doing his best not to flinch from the combination of the afternoon sun and the flashing bulbs of cameras. He raised his arm to give them a welcoming, friendly wave, just as Rob had coached him. A representative for the network wearing a brightly colored badge stood near a woman with a microphone, and he mentally prepared for a quick red carpet interview. He joined the two women, plastering to his face the most charming smile he could muster.

  It was rather painless. The interviewer quickly asked him two basic questions about what it felt like to be a part of the show and to watch his costars be nominated for such prestigious awards. He could hear the cameras flashing all around him as he answered honestly. It was a tremendous honor for him to be a part of this evening, and a part of the show. He was looking forward to many more award shows to come.

  “Great, thanks. We got it.” The interviewer raised her arm and gestured for him to continue on his way. The network rep gave him a quick thumbs-up, and Luke walked to the next interviewer to repeat the process, with the rep following close behind.

  After six or seven (he’d lost count) short interviews on the carpet, Luke was feeling confident in the process. He knew how to handle anything they could throw at him. That is, until a pesky host from the E! network shoved a microphone in his face.

  “Luke Kingston,” she said, waving her arms wildly as she approached. “We cannot even tell you how long we’ve been dying to talk to you,” she bellowed, her eyes seeming to bulge from their sockets. Luke resisted the urge to cringe at her overly assertive nature and brash speaking voice.

  “Yes, well, thank you.” He gave her a forced smile, his lips pressed together.

  “We’re just dying to know. Where is Gina? Shouldn’t she be on your arm?”

  The Us Weekly interview was rearing its ugly head. After so many interviewers had skipped this prying personal question, he was dismayed to hear it asked at all.

  He did his best to dodge the implication they were, in fact, a couple. “She’ll be arriving soon, I’m sure.”

  “Ah, walking the red carpet separately. Sure, we see that all the time. So tell me . . . you have such great chemistry on the show, is that what led to your relationship offscreen?”

  Luke cleared his throat and pondered the question. He could cooperate, go along with it, boost his career and Gina’s and give hot gossip to the E! network’s viewers. Or he could do the right thing, and publicly prove to Elle that he was hers and hers alone. He chose Elle.

  “Thank you. Chemistry is a difficult thing, you know. And usually, when you have great on-screen chemistry, it doesn’t translate off the screen. That’s certainly the case with us. Gina and I are good friends and nothing more.”

  The interviewer froze, her mouth agape. Quickly, she recovered and asked a follow-up question. Luke’s foot twitched. He was eager to escape this uncomfortable interrogation.

  “So wait . . . you two aren’t a couple? Weeks ago, she gave an interview for Us Weekly saying she found love again, are you saying she made that up?”

  Luke nodded, looked directly into the camera, and smiled with confidence. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  The rep from the network glared at him from several feet away. She quickly dragged two fingers across her neck, insisting he wrap it up. He’d never been more grateful for a gesture in all of his life. Without batting an eye, he shook the interviewer’s hand, saying, “You have a good evening.”

  When he walked to the network rep, he had no idea what to say. He knew he was in trouble.

  “I don’t know what the hell you were doing back there, but let’s hope it works in our favor.”

  That response confused him. “What do you mean?”

  “Love stories are good, but scandals are even better. Let’s hope for some headlines.”

  Luke shook his head, holding his hand out abruptly. “Wait. That’s not why I did it.”

>   The rep raised an eyebrow and looked over her glasses at Luke. “I know that. But my job is to find the silver lining whenever any of you screw things up—so that’s exactly what I plan to do. You can go inside now, you’re done behind the microphone for tonight.”

  Taking a rather large sigh of relief, Luke followed a crowd of other actors, producers, and directors into the lobby of the large theater. When he reached one of the many entrances to the auditorium, he was greeted by a man wearing a tuxedo and holding a clipboard.

  “Hello, I’m with Follow the Sun, I—” Luke began.

  “Mr. Kingston, of course,” the man said with a smile of recognition and deference. “You’re at table nineteen, which is at the back of the first level, right next to the half wall. Some of your fellow cast mates have already arrived.”

  Luke still wasn’t used to people recognizing his face or name. It amazed him every time and he was grateful for that. “Thank you.”

  “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

  Luke smiled and extended his hand. The man placed his clipboard between his arm and side and shook Luke’s hand with vigor before gesturing for Luke to enter the theater.

  As he crossed the threshold, Luke took in the opulence of the theater. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and elegant velvet fabric lined the walls. He could hear the chatter of television and film stars meeting one another for the first time. His eyes caught a glimpse of the most famous couple in the world, sitting together at an empty table, enjoying a quiet moment. The actor brushed the brunette’s hair from her eyes and she kissed the top of his hand. As starstruck as he was, taking in that private moment between two A-list movie stars, his focus was finding Elle. He could only hope she was sitting alone, or with Whitney, at their table. He could ask her to join him in the hallway, to have a conversation and start over.

  Three simple steps led to the main floor of the theater. Before he could even make out the small card with the number 19 on the table, he saw them.

  Elle looked just as stunning as he’d imagined. She was dressed in a black strapless gown that hugged her body and accentuated her gorgeous breasts. Her lips were ruby red, her hair was pulled up tight in a bun. She nearly took his breath away. But the man sitting next to her was the one who succeeded in knocking the wind right out of Luke’s lungs. Her ex. The man who, Luke knew, didn’t deserve another shot with the woman he loved. Ten years? Who goes ten years without speaking to another person and then expects another chance? He could barely let ten days go by without speaking to Elle. The idea of ten years astounded him.

  Unwilling to let Elle see the disappointment and sadness written all over his face, Luke took a second to transform into character. Tonight he would be the aloof ex-boyfriend who couldn’t be rattled. If he succeeded, it would be the performance of a lifetime.

  If only he could have a moment alone with her.

  “There he is.” Gina rose to her feet, a cocktail in hand and a slur to her speech. “I was waiting for you. Here, have a seat.”

  The only empty seat at the table was squeezed between the obnoxious and clearly tipsy Gina and Whitney, the friendly casting director whom he always suspected was rooting for Elle and him to get together. Whitney placed her hand on Luke’s shoulder and leaned in. “She’s already bombed. Started drinking in the limo.”

  Luke shook his head. “Lucky me.”

  Whitney’s expression changed, making Luke curious. Her eyes darted toward Elle and her date before locking with Troy’s.

  “Don’t give up,” she whispered so quietly her voice was imperceptible to anyone outside of their tiny bubble of conversation. Luke knew exactly what Whitney was telling him.

  He smiled and placed a kiss on the top of her hand, like men used to do in the movies. He was touched she was clearly rooting for him. “I don’t plan to.”

  Whitney’s eyes smiled in a secret response as she nodded and took her seat. Luke glanced around the table, giving everyone a curt hello before sitting next to Gina. Once he did, his eyes fixed on Elle. She was fidgeting with her purse, avoiding eye contact with him. He smirked, feeling the gaze of Elle’s ex upon him. Briefly, he made eye contact with Troy Saladino. Troy’s eyes were dark, concerned, and insecure. For a brief second, they shared a glance before Troy leaned in to whisper something into Elle’s ear. Whatever it was, Elle giggled softly, covering her mouth with her hand. Anger built within Luke, but he suppressed it, turning his attention back to the friendly woman to his left. Whitney smiled warmly.

  “Quite the clusterfuck, huh?” She leaned in closer so only Luke could hear her comments. “I mean, this table is one tangled web of drama. Can I get you a cocktail or something? I’m headed to the bar. I’m too impatient to wait for the server.”

  “I’ll join you.” Luke stood, offering Whitney his arm. If Elle could bring her ex to the Globes, knowing they’d be seated together, he could certainly turn on the charm with her best friend. All’s fair in love and war.

  He glanced back just once before walking to the bar with Whitney. Elle was watching him, her chest rising and falling quickly and her cheeks turning a deep red. It was working.

  Just you wait, he thought, knowing this was far from over.

  After mingling with other stars from the network and polishing off his first cocktail, Luke escorted Whitney back to the table. Just as she reached her chair, she declared in a surprisingly less-than-subtle tone, “I’m not hanging up that t-shirt just yet.”

  Luke had no idea what Whitney was talking about, but apparently Elle did. He turned to see her, eyes wide, glaring at Whitney. Luke chuckled, knowing it was some sort of message in his favor. He’d take any support he could get.

  Nolan interrupted Luke’s enjoyment of the moment, tapping him on the shoulder. Luke never had any complaints regarding the man whom he was, for all intents and purposes, replacing on the show. In fact, he was grateful to the fellow actor for making his career happen.

  “Can I have a word with you, Luke?”

  “Um . . .” He glanced around the table, confused. “Sure?”

  He walked with Nolan, who appeared frustrated and annoyed, to a relatively quiet spot near the bar.

  “What’s up?”

  “Leave her alone,” Nolan sneered.

  Luke was at a loss. “Wait, hold up. Who are you talking about?”

  If Elle had another man attempting to woo her, Luke would blow a freaking gasket. He could handle the ex, but Nolan too? What the hell?

  “Whitney. I see how she’s looking at you.” Nolan’s nostrils flared as he looked back toward table 19.

  “I’m not interested in Whitney. She’s just keeping me sane, dude.” Luke placed his hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “C’mon, let me get you a drink. You must be on edge tonight. Is this your first nomination?”

  “Yeah. But man, I’m crazy about that girl. I didn’t realize it when we were just screwing around, but now? Now, it’s like . . . I’d do anything to get her back.”

  “I feel your pain, man, I really do.” Luke looked back at Elle, who was leaning in, talking quietly with her ex. With every movement she made toward the restaurateur, Luke felt less confident, less empowered. He could only hope a little liquid courage would aid him in staying the course.

  The two men ordered their respective drinks before walking slowly back to the table. “Sorry about that, I just—God, she drives me nuts.”

  “Don’t worry about it. But she is helping me at the moment, so try not to take a little friendly banter as anything more than that, okay?”

  “Trying to ruffle the boss lady’s feathers, huh?”

  “That obvious?”

  Nolan chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “A little. You can take that guy.”

  Luke laughed, patting Nolan on the back, knowing he had no intention of coming to physical blows with Troy Saladino, but he appreciated the sentiment just the same. “Thanks, man.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please find your seats. Taping will begin in ten minutes.” T
he announcer’s voice came booming over the loudspeaker and attendees scattered back to their tables. The women at table 19 checked their makeup and hair. The tipsy Gina tugged on Luke’s arm as she applied another layer of lipstick. She puckered her lips, checked her teeth, and gave Luke her sexiest attempt at a smile.

  True, Gina Romano was a beautiful woman . . . on the outside. But her personality was deplorable and Luke had absolutely no interest in being dragged into her web of lies and delusion. She jeopardized his relationship with Elle, and for that he would never forgive her.

  “I missed you. Come sit with me.”

  “I’m sitting.” He glared at her, shaking her arm away from his.

  “Fine, whatever.”

  “I won’t be your photo op, Gina.” His voice was husky and deep as he scolded the actress. Within seconds, and without pondering his earlier discussion with Nolan, he was leaning to his left. “Do me a favor,” he whispered into Whitney’s ear. “Switch places with me?”

  Whitney raised her eyebrows, then looked around him toward Gina. “Sorry, pal. I have to draw the line somewhere.”

  And then it all seemed clear. Whitney and Gina had both been involved with Nolan. Of course Whitney wouldn’t want to sit next to the drunk wreck of an actress. Luke nodded, and patted Whitney on the forearm.

  “Of course, got it.”

  The lights blinked on and off, urging everyone to find their seats. Luke took a long sip of his gin and tonic, leaned back in his chair, and prepared to experience his first time at the Golden Globes.

  “Motherfucker,” Gina slurred rather loudly, when the winner of her category was announced.

  “Gina!” Nolan hissed. “You can’t look pissed on camera. Put a smile on your face.”

  “Screw you, Nolan. Don’t tell me what to do. Ever!”

  “Gina!” Elle hissed from across the table, her eyes stern and wide. “Enough. Listen to him and put a freaking smile on your face.”