The Seat Filler: A Novel

by Sariah Wilson

“What do you think you’re doing?” his date asked before kicking me in the leg. She was not wearing sneakers, and it hurt.

  “Ow!” I protested.

  Noah put out his arm between the two of us. “Hey, Hannah. That’s enough.”

  She let out a huff of indignation and then turned her body as far away from me as she possibly could, which was good, since it gave me some breathing room.

  He leaned forward and asked, “So what is the plan here?”

  “The number one rule is I either have to be in a seat or backstage when the lights come on, and obviously I can’t do either one of those things right now. So I’m . . . here. Until the next commercial break.”

  “Which makes you . . . what? Schrödinger’s seat filler?”

  Okay, that made me smile. The man could be charming if he wanted to be. “You can’t look at me or talk to me. Just pretend like I’m not here.”

  “Gladly,” Hannah said, but it was like Noah hadn’t even heard her. Or really even registered that they were, like, on a date, but I was the one he was talking to.

  Why was that thought making my heart flutter?

  Then he leaned forward and I wondered how I hadn’t noticed before how good he smelled. Clean and crisp, with some kind of expensive, masculine, woodsy scent. “You know, when I said that thing about women falling at my feet, I didn’t mean for it to be an invitation.”

  He said it so flirtatiously I couldn’t even get mad. I just sat there on the floor, feeling extremely stupid. This was one of the most humiliating experiences of my entire life. Easily top five.

  But not number one. Nothing could ever be more humiliating than number one.

  And at some point a camera operator was going to realize that Noah was chatting with the floor and the jig would be up. “Look, I know I don’t have the right to ask for any kind of favor, but I will get someone I love in trouble if you keep talking to me. You really do have to pretend like I’m not here.”

  He studied me for a moment, then gave me a little half smile. “Sure thing. But you owe me one.”

  What? I owed him one? What would that even entail? This night just kept getting more and more bizarre.

  I heard one of the presenters say, “And the nominees are . . . ,” and almost flew into a blind panic. What if it was Noah’s category? And he won? Then there would be cameras everywhere and they would definitely catch me and Shelby would never speak to me again!

  But it wasn’t his category. I let out a sigh of relief.

  This floor was gross. It felt sticky underneath me. I was definitely going to have to pay that stain-removal fee to the rental place, and there went my food budget for the next two weeks.

  His date kept her distance from me, hostility radiating out of her every flawless pore, but it was almost like Noah had forgotten that both of us were there. Although he did keep accidentally bumping into me with his large feet and shooting me apologetic looks. Which surprised me, given that our conversation had begun with him accusing me of stalking him. And if anything was stalking behavior, I was pretty sure this was it.

  Especially when I noticed he was wearing socks with pizza slices on them. That was unexpected, and I may or may not have accidentally brushed my fingers against them just to make sure they were real. He didn’t seem to notice.

  And despite telling myself not to stare, I kept sneaking glances at him. Even though he’d spent most of our brief time together being the worst, there was just something about him that made it so I had to keep looking. Like he was subliminally pulling me in and I was powerless to resist.

  He seemed to always be in motion, crossing and uncrossing his legs, flexing and unflexing his huge hands, shifting from one side of his seat to the other. I wondered if he was bored. Or was just one of those people who had so much pent-up energy they hated sitting still.

  Then he ran his fingers through his hair, and the gesture made my stomach quiver and my mouth go completely dry. I’d seen him do it a hundred times on-screen, but it landed completely differently in person.

  To distract myself I tried listening to the speech of the winner, but it was almost like the entire world had faded away and Noah Douglas was the only real thing in it.

  What was wrong with me?

  Fortunately this winner was brief and to the point, and the lights went back down. Noah quickly got up and offered me his hand.

  This time I took it, and it was like a thousand tiny atom bombs exploded across the surface of my skin. “Thanks,” I said, and it shocked me how wobbly my voice sounded, how shallow my breathing had become. We stood there, our hands clasped, and something happened. Something I didn’t recognize. And was most likely entirely one-sided.

  I wondered if I should apologize for my earlier behavior or thank him for not making a scene and getting me in trouble or whether I should say goodbye or . . . I didn’t know what to do, so I just let go and darted out into the aisle, wanting to put this entire evening behind me and hopefully leave with whatever dignity I still had left. I thought I felt his eyes watching me walk away, but I was too chicken to turn around and check.

  In my haste to flee, I almost ran straight into the famous actress Dame Helena Lynch. “Oh, do slow down, dear!” she called out.

  “I’m so sorry!” But there was no chance of that, even though now I’d nearly taken down a national treasure on the same night I bickered with Noah Douglas and then humiliated myself in front of him.

  When I got backstage, my whole body sighed with relief. I was done. Safe. I bet if I asked Allan, he would pull some strings and keep me backstage. I could not go out into the audience again.

  Although . . . what did I think was going to happen? What was I feeling so worried about? I’d told myself that it was my concern for Shelby, but nothing had happened. She was fine and I hadn’t been caught breaking any of the rules. So why had my insides tangled themselves up in knots?

  I grabbed one of the free water bottles and acknowledged that I was scared that Noah and I had just shared a moment. Of the romantic variety. Which was so dumb, because Noah was dating the Bride of the Mummy, and he would obviously never be interested in someone like me. I was the girl picked last for sports teams. The one who didn’t get asked to the prom. I was always on the outside looking in. Not to mention that we’d just spent our entire evening being rude to each other. That wasn’t exactly a recipe for romance.

  Not that I’d go out with him, even if he asked. I didn’t date.

  I then reminded myself that he didn’t know my name, so odds were I was getting worked up over absolutely nothing. Plus, I’d be so out of my depth that I would need scuba gear.

  But what if . . . what if I could be with Noah Douglas, or someone like him, and not feel terrified the entire time? Wouldn’t that be something?

  I approached Allan. “Is it okay if I just hang out back here for a while? Can I be your last resort after you’ve put everyone else to work?”

  He nodded, looking concerned. “Sure thing. You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I smiled, even though I felt like a fraud because I was still shaken up and was definitely not okay. My pulse had just finally returned to normal. “Everything’s fine. My back just hurts a little.” Along with my pride.

  “I’ll let you know if I need you. And if I didn’t say it before, thanks for helping out tonight. You know how much it means to Shelby.”

  “I do.” I wondered if he did. If he understood how truly awful his mother was. Because he’d grown up with her, and her craziness probably seemed normal to him, so he wouldn’t be able to recognize how bad it was. But now was not the time to ask him about it.

  It was time to hide myself in a corner and watch the rest of the event on the giant monitor hanging on the wall behind me. I found an abandoned folding chair and watched as a few more winners were given their little statues. My ears perked up when the host said it was time for the Best Actor award.

  They announced all the nominees and cut to each one of them for a reaction shot. I caught m
y breath when they zoomed in on Noah, who looked a bit sheepish and was clapping for his fellow nominees.

  The envelope was opened and . . . Noah didn’t win. Chase Covington did instead. Noah leaned forward to slap him on the shoulder in congratulations while Chase kissed his very pretty wife seated next to him.

  Why did I feel so disappointed? I was being so weird tonight.

  I was getting hungry again when Allan stopped by to check on me. I assured him I was still fine, and he handed me a package of M&M’s, which I took gratefully. “Shelby said I needed to keep you well fed.”

  “This is why you’re my favorite out of all Shelby’s fiancés.”

  That made him laugh, and he put a hand up to cover one of his ears, presumably to hear better. He pointed at his headphones, waved at me, and then went back over to the curtain as another commercial break started up.

  The monitor showed the attendees chatting, and I couldn’t help but search out where Noah had been sitting. He was still there, concentrating on his phone, not talking to the woman beside him. It gave me a tingling flush of pleasure that he wasn’t interacting with his date.

  I ate my bag of M&M’s while the lights went back up and they announced that they were going to present the award for Best Dramatic Feature. I was interrupted from my visual stalking of Noah Douglas when Shelby joined us backstage. Allan said something that made her laugh, and she kissed him in return. While I was so, so happy for my best friend, I felt an all-too-familiar twinge of jealousy that I had no idea how to be like that with someone else.

  And my worst fear was someone finding out the reason why.

  It was better for me to put this whole night behind me and just move on like it never happened. Because, logically and realistically, nothing was going to happen.

  In what reality would Noah Douglas be interested in someone like me?

  They announced the winner, and it was the Peruvian film that had been getting all the buzz. I hadn’t seen it. I preferred romantic comedies and fairy tales.

  “How was your night?” Shelby asked when she reached me. She sat in another folding chair behind me, forcing me to turn around in order to see her. “I was seated next to George Wilcox. You know, the composer? He did all of the music for Duel of the Fae. He didn’t win, though. I felt bad for him. But he was so nice to me. It was kind of surreal.”

  Ha. She had no idea how surreal I was about to make her night when I told her what I’d been up to. “Speaking of, you’ll never guess who I was sitting with.”

  “Noah Douglas.”

  “What?” I asked with a laugh. “How could you possibly know that? Did you see me with him?”

  Her eyes went wide and she repeated, “Noah Douglas.”

  “Yes, I know, we’ve established that I was sitting next to Noah Douglas. And I think I might have completely freaked him out. Like a sewer clown with a red balloon.”

  “No, um, Noah Douglas.”

  This time she pointed, and I turned to see what was going on. It took me a second to process that Noah Douglas was standing there, holding my clutch, which looked comically small in his hands.

  The same clutch that I had completely forgotten on the floor in an effort to escape.

  I stood up, stunned. My heart leaped into my throat, almost making it impossible for me to breathe. I wondered if my mouth was hanging open like Shelby’s.

  “Here. You left this.” He held out my clutch to me, and I felt both totally weirded out and profoundly grateful. My phone was in there.

  “Uh . . . thank you.”

  I took it back and just gaped at him, unsure of what to do next. Especially since the logical thing would be for him to turn around and leave. Why was he still here? Did . . . did he want to talk to me? Why? What was happening? This was like something out of a fanfic or a fantasy, and things like that did not happen to people like me.

  “Hi!” Shelby stepped around me and held out her hand. “I’m Shelby Farmingham. Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.” He shook her hand, sounding oh so polite. “As you’ve already pointed out, I’m Noah Douglas.”

  That made Shelby laugh, and it was a laugh I’d never heard before. High-pitched and shrill. Like she felt just as hysterical and unnerved as I did.

  “So . . . ,” he said, once Shelby had calmed down, “I’m going to this after-party. I don’t know how much fun it will be, but maybe—”

  “Oh, good luck with that. Personally, I hate parties. They’re not really my scene,” I told him. I was much more of a crash-on-my-couch-and-eat-my-body-weight-in-chocolate kind of girl. And why was he bragging about going to a party? We already knew he was famous. He didn’t need to remind us.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Right. Okay.” He paused, and I ignored Shelby, who was currently pressing down on my right foot and I didn’t know why.

  “Oh, that Juliet!” Shelby said, slapping me on the arm. Hard enough that I flinched. “She likes parties! Who doesn’t like a party? She’s the perfect girl to take to a party. You’ve obviously already met her, so you know that she’s tall and gorgeous and fun and so, so sweet and kind.” Was it my imagination or did mention of my sweetness and kindness make a smile ghost across his lips? “And she’s an entrepreneur. She just started up her own mobile dog-grooming business.”

  “Yes, she might have mentioned that already,” he said.

  “Do you have a dog?” Shelby asked, her voice still too bright and perky. “Because you definitely want to hire Juliet. She will come to you and clean your pup. Anytime, day or night.” She opened her purse. “Here’s her card.”

  That made me blink rapidly. Why did she have my business cards in her purse? And why was she talking about me like I wasn’t even in the room?

  He studied it for a moment. “Thanks. I’ll give you a call sometime, Juliet Nolan.” He said my name like he was caressing it with his voice, and I almost passed out. “Have a good evening.” He slid my card into his breast pocket, nodded his head, and then he was gone. Vanished as quickly as he’d appeared.

  I would have wondered if I’d hallucinated the whole thing if not for Shelby jumping up and down and shrieking, “I can’t believe we met Noah Douglas! What? How did that happen? Best day ever! And how deliciously awkward were the two of you? I loved it!”

  “What was that?” I demanded.

  Her jumping stopped. “What?”

  “That . . . that word vomit just now? About me and my business?”

  She tilted her chin defiantly. “I was helping you.”

  “I don’t think so.” That had been awful. If I hadn’t scared him away before, well, Shelby had just made sure that I’d definitely never see him again. He probably thought we were psychos. “And why do you have my business card?”

  “Duh, in case we need them. Which we obviously just did. Don’t you have some of mine?”

  “I don’t even have mine in here.”

  Shelby took my clutch and put both my cards and some of her cards for her interior design business into it. “There. Now you do. Just in case one of the Hemsworths wants me to redo their bedroom.”

  “Do you think Harmony will get mad about you trying to drum up business?”

  A look of dismay crumpled up Shelby’s face. “Well, I do now!”

  “No, don’t get upset! I was kidding. I’m the only one who knows, and I promise I won’t tell her. And you know Noah Douglas won’t, so we’re good.”

  “To be fair, the Noah thing was personal. It wasn’t about business.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Uh, he’s interested in you. He asked you out.”

  I could feel my eyebrows fly up my forehead. “What! He did not.”

  “Yes, he did. He was inviting you to that party, and you cut him off and then shot him down. After he was all gallant and returned your clutch to you. Which is something he absolutely did not have to do.”

  My heart started pounding fast. Was she right? I mentally reviewed what he’d said. He had never a
ctually asked me to go. Shelby was reading into the situation. I couldn’t let myself believe that she might be right. Time to put my defenses back up. It didn’t matter how hot Noah Douglas was—nothing was happening and I wasn’t going to buy into the fantasy. That was much more her thing than mine. I was the pragmatic realist here.

  “People can be polite without ulterior motives. Plus, he was already on a date. With a very beautiful woman.”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “You know as well as I do half of the ‘relationships’ in this town are just showmances arranged by their respective PR teams. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would ask a girl out if he was on a date with another one.”

  “You don’t know anything about him.”

  “Neither do you. Which is why you should get to know him when he calls you.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes. “He’s not going to call me. That’s just something you say when somebody forces you to take a business card.”

  “Noah Douglas is going to call you.”

  “No, he’s not. Tonight did not go well.”

  “He is.”

  “He is not going to call me.”

  He totally called me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A week after the awards show, I was on my couch enjoying the second movie in the Duel of the Fae trilogy. Halfway through a box popped up on my screen.

  ARE YOU STILL WATCHING?

  “Yes, InstaFlicks, I’m still watching. I don’t need your judgment on my movie consumption,” I muttered. I clicked the “Yes” button. If they were going to question my life choices, they should create something that would appear in my fridge and ask, “Do you really want to eat that?” It would be much more helpful. Or remind me to take a shower.

  My phone rang, and I picked it up to look at the screen. It said RESTRICTED. Before I started my business, I wouldn’t have answered it, but now I couldn’t afford to miss out on any potential clients.

  The total upside was all the time I got to spend chatting with telemarketers about my insurance needs and potential credit card applications.

  “Hello?” I asked, my mouth full of popcorn.