“As I’ve already mentioned, you do not have to do anything to try and please this unpleasable woman.” Shelby’s mother had died about a year before Shelby got cancer, and her dad had never been in the picture. Sometimes it felt like Shelby was hoping Harmony would become a replacement parent, and I wished she could see that it wouldn’t happen.
Shelby sighed. “I get that, but I feel like she’s making an effort in asking us to come back. If she’s extending an olive branch, I have to take it. Please?”
It sounded less like an olive branch and more like a way to find a regular source of unpaid labor, but I wasn’t going to rain on Shelby’s parade like that. I put the ice cream in the freezer, although it was basically toast without a lid. It would get those gross ice crystals all over it. The things I did for my best friend. “Okay. Where’s the dress?”
“Yay! It’s in your closet. I put it in there last night while you were sleeping.”
I went into my room and found the dress hanging there, just like she’d said. “You snuck this in here like some kind of awards season Santa?” I pulled it out, and it was another plain black formal gown in my size, and it was actually long enough. That was always pleasantly surprising whenever it happened. It was a simple one-arm dress that fell into a straight sheath. I wouldn’t be able to climb over anybody’s legs in this dress. I grabbed my Converse shoes. When it came to the rest of me, fortunately I had a best friend who loved dressing up, so I’d been taught how to manage hair and makeup well enough on my own.
“Yes, I’m your Academy Awards fairy godmother, and I’d do it again. Okay, I arranged for an Uber to come pick you up in half an hour and bring you here.” She told me my name was on the list and then ran over how to get through the different levels of security. She reminded me to bring my driver’s license.
“I’ll see you soon,” I told her. Then I spent the next half hour rushing around the apartment like a crazy woman, trying to get ready. I didn’t let myself think about Noah.
Okay, that was a lie. I thought about him constantly. He was going to be there. He’d been nominated for Best Actor for The Last Goodbye. I thought he deserved to win, but Chase Covington had played an alcoholic drinking himself to death and for some reason professional people in Hollywood thought his performance was better and had been giving him all the awards. I didn’t get it.
The car arrived and dropped me off at the first stage of security, where they went through my clutch. When they opened it, I realized that I’d forgotten to pack any snacks. This was very disheartening, since I knew I had hours and hours of waiting around in front of me.
I made it through the labyrinth of security guards and three other checkpoints before finally making my way into the Dolby Theatre. A guard directed me down a long hallway that he told me led backstage. There were even more guards standing along the wall who would stop me to verify that I was supposed to be there and kept pointing me down the same hallway.
The level of security was ridiculous—it was like a military operation. Like the president of the United States was going to appear.
Shelby was waiting for me backstage. She waved when she saw me, her whole face lighting up. She patted the empty folding chair next to her. Harmony had set up a quick meeting with her seat fillers to run over the rules for that evening. She passed around two clipboards together and told us there were two separate forms to sign. The first were the liability/publicity release forms that let them put us on camera. The second was a serious-looking nondisclosure agreement that said I wouldn’t talk about being a seat filler at this particular show. Well, given that my mom would only be vaguely interested and my best friend was sitting beside me, I figured it was fine to sign, as I had no one else to tell. Especially since Allan signed his without hesitation. The meeting of hers dragged on for what felt like an eternity since so many people were actually reading the releases, so I ended up watching the monitors behind her instead.
They showed the red carpet, and I saw various entertainment reporters and television hosts arriving and joining their crews. Some of them seemed famous enough that they were taking pictures with the fans who were sitting in raised bleachers along the red carpet. The whole area buzzed with excitement and anticipation.
Then the celebrities started to arrive, and you could tell every time one of them got out of their SUV or limo, as a muffled roar went up from the fans. We could hear it all the way backstage.
Although I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone else, I was watching for Noah. Celebrities came in two by two, but no Noah. A jealous twinge went through me at the idea that he was going to bring a date. I wondered if it would be the same woman as last time. The one he claimed he wasn’t dating.
As I pondered those possibilities, where time had been lagging, now it seemed to speed up. Allan went off to join his mother and go over seating charts, and I listened to the nominees and members of the Academy entering the theater and finding their seats.
At some point Allan called Shelby over and left me to Noah-watch alone. Most of the other men in his category had already arrived, and I told myself I was ridiculous for sitting here and doing this. Somebody started putting the folding chairs away, clearing a pathway. The sound level in the auditorium got louder and louder as more people arrived.
Was Noah waiting until the last minute to make some kind of grand entrance? That thought made me question why I felt so . . . I don’t know, desperate to see him again. I was the one who’d said I wasn’t interested. So why did I care? Wouldn’t it be better for me to just spend the evening backstage and then go home to finish off my crystallized ice cream?
It was like I didn’t even know myself anymore.
The orchestra was warming up when Allan found me. “I’ve got an assignment for you.”
“Already?” Last time the first seat fillers hadn’t been sent out until about twenty minutes into the ceremony, and only then to fill in the seats of the people who had won awards.
“My mom was told someone who was scheduled to come didn’t make it, and to be honest, you’ll probably have to sit in that seat the whole night.” He took me by the elbow and walked me over to the curtain that separated us from everyone else.
“You’re going to be orchestra center, in row A, seat nineteen. Got it?” he asked, and it was only then that I realized Allan looked awfully pleased with himself. It was a weird look on him. Usually he was either stressed about work or making googly eyes at Shelby.
Row A was the first row, right next to the stage. Wow. At least I wouldn’t have to climb over anyone. I wondered if someone had been stuck in traffic. Why else would they be late to their front-row seats?
It wasn’t just seat nineteen that needed to be filled. Seat twenty was empty, too. It reminded me so strongly of the last awards show and Noah that I had to take a deep breath. I wondered if Allan’s little smirk had been because he was going to send Shelby to keep me company until the seats’ owners arrived.
A very pregnant and very pretty blonde was seated in the chair to my right. She looked vaguely familiar, although I couldn’t place her. She caught my eye as I walked to my maroon-covered seat and she said, “Hello.”
“Hi.” She was wearing what looked like a very expensive pair of silver-sequined high heels, and I wondered how she managed not to fall over, given how big her belly was. “I like your shoes.”
“Oh, thank you. But look at yours! I love them.”
I displayed my pink Converse proudly. “Thanks. So do I.” I felt vindicated. Noah Douglas was full of crap.
“Much more practical than mine.” She rested her hands on top of her stomach. “I feel like I’m pregnant every time I’m at one of these things.”
“Congratulations. Do you know what you’re having?”
She smiled at me. “A little girl. Just one this time, thankfully. Your name doesn’t happen to start with an O, does it?”
That was kind of a weird question. “No. I’m Juliet.”
She offered me her right han
d, and I shook it. “I’m Zoe. Juliet? As in Romeo and?”
“Yep, Shakespeare.”
“Huh. A Shakespeare name. That was something I hadn’t considered but would make sense, given my husband’s line of work.”
I wanted to ask who her husband was, but it seemed nosy. “The only O Shakespeare name I can think of is Othello. And that doesn’t seem like a good name for a little girl. Wait! What about Ophelia? She goes a tad crazy, but she does have a pretty name.”
She let out a laugh. “I like it! You probably think I’m so strange. It’s a family tradition to give our kids names starting with O.”
Then Chase Covington walked over and kissed Zoe before taking the seat on her right side. “Chase, this is my new friend, Juliet. She suggested the name Ophelia. What do you think?”
“I like it better than Opal.” He reached over to shake my hand, and I was nearly blinded by his megawatt smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Wow, was he handsome. “Yeah. You too.”
“And you’re here with Douglas?” he asked. His tone sounded a little disapproving.
It took me a second to register what he was saying, and I turned to my left to see Noah sitting down in the chair next to me. “No. I’m just a seat filler.”
“Are you sure about that?” Zoe asked me, and she sounded like she was about to break into laughter.
“Pretty sure,” I told her, my voice suddenly sounding strange to my own ears.
“Hi,” Noah said and asked, “is this seat taken?”
At first I could only look at him. He was in a black tux, and formal wear suited him very well. How did this make him even more attractive? He was so hot I was surprised that everything around him didn’t spontaneously combust.
Once I shook off my feelings of overwhelming lust, I asked, “Are you serious?”
“What?” he asked.
“I’m sitting next to you?”
“And you think that’s my fault?”
Somehow it was. I just hadn’t worked it out yet. And if I was being honest with myself, I knew this was going to happen. Deep down, I’d known. And I’d wanted it. Even if I was protesting.
“You don’t have a date?” I asked.
“She wasn’t able to make it.”
And there it was. Evidence of scheming. Because who would miss out on being Noah Douglas’s date for the Oscars? “What happened? Did she have to go back to Egypt?”
He looked thoroughly confused. “You sound hungry. Here.” Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a Snickers bar, handing it to me. “I heard you got recruited last-minute, so I just figured . . .”
My heartbeat skittered all over the place. I took the candy bar carefully and just held it in my lap, staring at it. It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. To be fair, no one had ever done anything romantic for me, so it was a low bar, but still.
“Thank you.” I felt like all the air had been knocked out of me, and it took me a second to add, “This was very thoughtful.”
“You’re easy to think of.”
His words slammed into me, causing a whirlwind of sensations and feelings that overwhelmed me. I wanted him to know how much his gesture meant to me. “Did you want some?” I hoped he appreciated the magnitude of my offer. I didn’t share candy with anyone.
“I’m good.” He flashed the inside of his suit jacket to show me that he had two protein bars there. “Although I don’t think we’re going to be able to eat them here. The Academy doesn’t allow it, and there’s going to be cameras everywhere.” Seated between Noah Douglas and Chase Covington? Yeah, cameras all over us was a pretty safe bet. He went on, “I know how important it is to you to follow the rules. Like how you have to stay in your seat until someone comes to take it.”
It was then that I realized no one was coming to take my seat. This had Shelby’s fingerprints all over it. “You guys lured me here under false pretenses.”
“You weren’t lured,” he said. “Nobody set up a wooden box and a stick with a string on it.”
“But there is a Snickers bar!”
“True. Only you didn’t know about it until after you were already here, so not a lure.”
“You did set me up, though,” I protested.
“Which you’ll either find charming or it’s what you’ll use as the basis for your restraining order,” he said with a wink, and it sucked all of the fight out of me.
The orchestra started to play, and as the music swelled, the lights went up. The show was starting. I should have been upset. I should have texted Shelby right then and there to tell her what she had done was wrong on so many different levels.
But I didn’t.
He’d brought me my favorite candy bar.
He wanted to spend one of the biggest nights of his life sitting next to me. How could I be mad about that?
Shelby was right. Noah Douglas didn’t give up easily.
And I didn’t know what to do next.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Because I was confused by the two competing desires inside me, one that wanted to run away screaming with my arms flailing and the other wanting to climb into his lap, I fell quiet. I watched the opening musical number and then the first two presenters walked out onstage, but I couldn’t focus. Instead I was keenly aware of him.
As we all politely applauded, Noah leaned in next to me, that clean/expensive scent surrounding me. He whispered, his words hot and breathy against my ear, sending tingles to unmentionable places, “He’s wearing a toupee.”
The actor in question was in his sixties and known for his thick head of hair. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Saw it myself.”
I couldn’t wait to tell Shelby. “What about Melissa Wilton?” She was the copresenter.
“She is pregnant, but her husband is not the father.”
I couldn’t help myself. I gasped. “Who is?”
“The director of her latest miniseries. They’re going to get married after she publicly announces her ‘amicable’ divorce.”
There were a lot of things to like about Noah Douglas, but who knew that gossip would end up being one of them?
When they announced the winner, one of the most prestigious and beloved actors in Hollywood, now it was my turn to lean in and ask, “What about him?”
“He’s dating his granddaughter’s best friend.”
“Ew, gross,” I said.
He kept up a steady stream of commentary through each of the presenters and winners, delighting me in a way I didn’t know was possible. I was having the best time as I found out who was having affairs (it was like ninety percent of them), the people battling addictions, the massive amount of plastic surgery for both men and women, and the ridiculous things they were willing to do for fame.
Like how the Best Supporting Actor winner pretended to have Lyme disease because he had a book coming out and knew he’d get a lot of publicity. Or how last year’s Best Supporting Actress was in the habit of fostering dogs, getting a lot of press about it, and then having her assistant return them to shelters.
That one infuriated me. I was never going to watch a movie she starred in ever again.
“Are you having a good time?” Noah asked during a commercial break.
“Surprisingly enough, I am.”
“Surprisingly? I feel personally attacked. I can be entertaining,” he informed me.
“Duh, we’re sitting here because of your ability to entertain.”
Noah shook his head. “That’s my ability to act, and to connect. Not entertain.”
“They don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”
He smiled at me and I had to look away, lest I be totally overwhelmed by him. Someone came over to say hello to Chase Covington, and it reminded me that he was sitting so close to me and I inadvertently whispered Chase’s full name under my breath when he stood up.
Of course, because this was my life, Noah heard me. “You had no idea who I was, but you’ve heard of Covington?”
I went absolutely still, my heart beating loudly but slowly. While I hadn’t forgotten that I’d told Noah I didn’t know who he was, it was something I’d shoved into the very back of my brain, never to be seen again. Like the old, broken Christmas decorations in my mom’s hall closet.
I knew I should tell him. Confess that I could probably quote several of his movies verbatim. That I’d had a crush on him even before I knew what a crush was.
But something held me back. Maybe if he hadn’t been so charming and fun tonight, I would have felt differently. I was having such a good time, and I knew that telling him the truth would ruin it.
Given that I wasn’t going to see him again, as the Academy Awards was the last show in Hollywood’s awards season, there was no point in destroying tonight. Maybe it was selfish, but I wanted this memory to be a shiny one.
“My best friend is a big fan of his and I’ve seen a couple of his movies. Plus, he’s pretty famous.”
A disgruntled look crossed Noah’s features. “Yes, it’s amazing how successful he’s become with all of his obvious physical disadvantages.”
I couldn’t help myself; I laughed. “Yeah, okay, pot.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “What did you call me?”
“I said you are the pot and Chase Covington would be the kettle in your he-got-ahead-because-of-his-good-looks claim.”
“Come on,” he said. “I know how I look.”
“And how’s that?” I asked, genuinely curious, given his self-deprecating tone.
“I’ve always been a little goofy-looking—”
“Goofy-looking?” I repeated, slamming my hand against the armrest between us. “What inbred, nearsighted, and totally-lacking-any-semblance-of-taste idiot told you that you were goofy-looking?”
Was this even possible? Did Noah Douglas really not know how deeply, primally attractive he was? I mean, when he was younger, he was definitely ganglier and had braces like the rest of us. He hadn’t grown into himself yet. But now he had and it was some very excellent maturing that had taken place on his part.
The Seat Filler: A Novel Page 7