Even if he had been a little goofy-looking once upon a time, I’d still idol worshipped him.
“That’s good to know,” he said.
“What is?” The fact that I thought he was hot? Wasn’t that just, like, common knowledge?
But he changed the subject on me. “Chase Covington is just . . . a blonder, nicer version of me.”
I heard the unspoken dig in his voice. “By nicer did you mean less talented?”
His eyes crinkled with a smile. “I would never say that.”
“But you’d think it.”
“Possibly.”
Now it was my turn to smile. I’d never imagined Noah Douglas to be this relaxed, enjoying-himself kind of person. He seemed to be all intensity, all the time. Grumpy, even. “Now it’s my turn to be surprised.”
“By what?”
“You. I thought you were more . . . I don’t know, one of those Method type of actors who takes himself way too seriously and thinks the world revolves around him. I wouldn’t have ever guessed that you could be . . . chill. Or that you’d be into gossip.”
“I am not into gossip.”
Now I was confused. “Then why have we been doing that for the last half hour?”
Despite me calling him chill, the fiery intensity in his eyes was anything but. “Because you like it.”
That made the air between us feel heavy and I meant to say something in response, but we were interrupted by a director that he’d worked with a couple of years ago who wanted to say hello. That continued happening for the rest of the evening—Noah would give me the 411 on everybody around us, and then there would be a steady stream of industry types who all wanted to chat with Noah and shake his hand.
Not that I could blame them.
When he stood up, I noticed his socks. They had pictures of his dog, Magnus, on them. Too cute.
During one of the breaks, I texted Shelby, because the only way he could have known about my love of all things gossip was from my best friend.
I glanced up, wondering where she was. I was about to text that it was fine but hesitated because it was kind of a lie. Things were going much better than fine, but I didn’t want to encourage her.
I was about to tell her to be herself and have fun, but she would have told me that she couldn’t do both. She was going to spend her entire evening stressed out of her mind and trying to figure out new ways to gain Harmony’s approval.
Then it was time to announce the winner in Noah’s category, Best Actor. I tried my best to look neutral and lean out of the camera frame when they called his name, even though my heart was fluttering in anticipation for him. I was hopeful he’d win even though all those betting websites said that there was no way he would. I wanted to tell him good luck, but I was still a seat filler and probably shouldn’t be caught on camera saying something like that. I wasn’t Noah’s date.
Even if it kind of felt like I was.
Sure enough, Chase Covington’s name was called as the winner. He kissed Zoe, and she stood up and loudly cheered for him, ignoring the cameras that were capturing her every move.
When the applause died down and Chase began his acceptance speech, I said to Noah, “I’m sorry you didn’t win.”
Then I did something that shocked me. I rested my hand on top of his to comfort him. It was something I would have done for Shelby or my mom if they’d just lost a contest. It was just a natural reaction.
But then he put his other big, warm hand over mine, and it caused my stomach to hollow out and my galloping heartbeat to thump so hard in my throat it felt like it would strangle me. What was I doing? I counted out my breaths, inhaling one, two, three and then exhaling one, two, three before carefully extricating myself. I didn’t jerk my hand away, which I thought was pretty impressive, given all the rampaging and conflicting feelings that were happening inside me.
Chase ended his speech and exited the stage as the music played, and the lights went down. Zoe jokingly told me to save her seat, as she was going to find a restroom.
“Tell Chase congratulations from me when you see him,” Noah said, and she smiled and promised she would.
I thought that was very big of him. “I wouldn’t have guessed that you’re a good sport. I bet you’re that guy that every time you have a game night you lose friends.”
He blinked slowly, as if considering what I said. “In this situation it really is an honor just to be nominated.”
“But you would have liked winning, right?”
“When you join the army, there is no such thing as losing or defeat. My company used to say we were only doing a tactical retreat. So yes, it sucks, and I would have much preferred winning.” That sly smile of his played at the ends of his mouth.
“How competitive would you rate yourself? Like, on a scale of one to five?”
“To be fair, it would depend on what I’m doing and how much it mattered, but in general I’d say I’m maybe like a three.” He paused. “Or a five-plus all the time.”
I laughed at this, glad to know that Noah Douglas wasn’t perfect and might actually have some flaws.
“Same,” I told him. I’d always hated my sense of competitiveness, and it was a relief to find someone who operated on the same wavelength.
Somebody called his name, and Noah said hello to an older man. I briefly wondered what he did for a living—studio executive? Producer? Director? Screenwriter? As I ran through potential jobs for him, it occurred to me that there was only one more award to be given out, Best Picture, and then this night would be over.
I felt a twinge of sadness at the idea this whole thing was coming to a close. I pulled up the Uber app to see if I could schedule a ride when we finished here.
“That’s not going to work.”
The feeling of him so close to my neck did funny things to my gut, but I didn’t even scold Noah for looking over my shoulder. “Why not?”
“The streets are all cordoned off for blocks. Only cars with permits are allowed in. And then once you get past all of the barriers, nothing will be available nearby. There’s too many people affiliated with the show who don’t have limos and will need rides.”
He turned out to be right. Every ride I tried to schedule for my location canceled after I’d requested it.
“Great.” I sighed. “I don’t have a way of getting home.”
“I could give you a lift. I just have to go to this one little thing first, if that’s okay.”
I should tell him no, thank you. I could figure this out on my own. I also felt bad about him going so out of his way to take me home. “I’m in Pasadena. It’s not nearby.”
“We’re in LA. Thanks to traffic, nothing’s nearby.”
Wrestling with the decision, I blurted out, “That would be great. Thank you.” And it actually was great. I didn’t want tonight to come to an end just yet.
And even though I knew very little about men and their emotions, the look on his face made me think he was feeling the same way.
CHAPTER NINE
The Best Picture winner was announced, the final speech was made, and everyone started to leave.
“Stay close,” Noah told me. For a second it seemed like he wanted to take my hand.
And for a second I almost let him.
But he put his hands in his pockets as I followed behind him. Thankfully he was tall and broad enough that it was easy to pick him out in the crowd. Everybody wanted to get his attention or touch him as he walked past. And these were his colleagues and employers. I could only imagine what it would be like if he were walking through a crowd of fans. They’d probably dismember him. By accident, but they’d all want a piece.
We went into a hallway, and he came to an abrupt stop. I nearly smacked into his back.
“And who is this?” the woman in front asked. She looked very confused. I saw her glance down at my sneakers, and I tried to hide them beneath the hem of my dress.
“This is Juliet. Juliet, this is Reina, my publicist; Morgan, her as
sistant; and Annie, my groomer.” I figured it was a mark in his pro column that his whole team was made up entirely of women. Both Reina and Morgan seemed on the shorter side, but that was probably only in comparison to Noah. Reina had beautiful, waist-length chestnut hair and Morgan sported a bright smile. Annie was taller, with a blonde pixie cut. All three women were dressed in black, just like me.
Reminding me that I was more like the help here and less like Noah’s actual date.
“And where did you find Juliet?” Reina asked. It was a little disconcerting for her to be talking about me like I wasn’t there. She was very nice about it, but still. He hadn’t found me. I wasn’t a lost wallet.
“Juliet and I are friends, and she’s coming with me to the party.”
That seemed to be good enough for everyone. Reina nodded and said she would take care of it. “The car is this way.”
“Party?” I asked as we followed her. “I think I’ve mentioned it, but I hate parties.”
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed.
“Then why are we going to one?”
“It’s for work. We’ll stay for a little while, get some pictures and some food, and then I’ll have Ray drive you home.”
Ray? Was that his driver? And did that mean . . . he wasn’t coming with me? He was going to put me in a car and that would be that?
When we stepped out of the theater, it was like a sound bomb had been set off. There was an explosion of noise as a throng of fans screamed for Noah, calling his name. The bright flashes from all the photos were blinding, and I had to look down at the ground to regain my bearings.
This was his life. It was incomprehensible.
The car ended up being a limousine. Not one of those big stretch ones, but it was bigger than a regular sedan with enough seating for all of us.
There was a flurry of movement off to the right, and I turned to see a woman ducking under the rope and in between two security guards who were just a second too slow in grabbing her. I wasn’t sure what was happening and could only stand there and watch, my mouth hanging open. She pole-vaulted herself onto Noah, crying, screaming his name, telling him that she loved him as she clung to his back like a baby monkey. He tried disengaging her, but it was the four guards who ran over that successfully yanked her off, carrying her away.
It was terrifying.
Reina ushered everyone into the limo, including me. There was a second of stunned silence as we pulled away, and then there was a chorus of concern from everyone there, asking Noah if he was okay.
“I’m fine,” he reassured us. To my shock, he did look totally calm. Annoyed, but he often looked annoyed.
“How are you not more shaken up?” I asked. My heart was still drumming a staccato beat in my chest, and the fight-or-flight adrenaline inside me had just started to dissipate.
He shrugged one shoulder. “That’s not the first time that’s happened to me.”
“I think we should look into getting you a private security guard for these kinds of functions,” Reina told him. At the look on his face, she said, “I know. I know how much you want to live a normal life, but I think we’re getting to the point that things might need to change.”
I totally agreed with her, but this wasn’t a conversation that I needed to be a part of. So I sat quietly while Reina changed the subject and started prepping him for what would happen when we arrived and how he would need to pose for pictures despite not wanting to. Her return to normalcy was like a cue to the others—Morgan was scrolling on her phone, talking about the different outlets that wanted to speak to him at the party, while Annie ran product through his hair, making sure the waves set just so.
She had the best job.
He shot me a sheepish grin, as if to say he was sorry about all of this, and I shrugged. He didn’t have anything to be sorry for. The crazy fan wasn’t his fault. Then it occurred to me that he was talking about our present circumstances, where I sat quietly while everyone else talked to and with him. Admittedly, when we’d been sitting together in the theater, it felt as if we were almost like a regular couple. I don’t know why I assumed it would continue to be just me and him. But now with three other people quite literally between us, he felt a world away.
Noah seemed so important. He had these people who were there just to take care of him and help him in his career. I sat in that car, feeling small and not liking it. Maybe when we got to this party, I’d see if I could find someone in the ride-share app to pick me up. Although I guessed we were heading into a situation similar to the one we’d just left and it might take some time.
The car slowed to a crawl, and I saw another wall of photographers, camera crews, and fans cheering and screaming. I hoped these guards would protect him better than the last.
“Morgan, would you mind getting out here and taking Juliet inside so that Noah can get his pictures?” Reina asked, and Morgan nodded.
“Juliet, is that okay?” Noah asked me, and I wondered whether he saw any discomfort on my face.
I smiled, because the idea of avoiding that red carpet actually sounded nice. “Yes. I’ll just meet you inside.”
“Can I get your number?” Morgan asked. “In case we get separated.”
I told her my phone number and then she opened the car door. I went with her through a couple of security checkpoints, and it seemed as if none of the guards were too pleased about me being listed as Noah Douglas’s guest. They hadn’t been given a name, and they kept checking my driver’s license. Which I didn’t understand, because the word guest wasn’t going to magically morph into my name if they looked at my ID often enough.
But we got inside and it was like a whole other glitzy, glamorous world. It was dark and it took my eyes a second to adjust. There was also music playing, and several people were on the dance floor already. Thankfully it wasn’t too loud and allowed people to still have conversations. There were waiters wearing white tuxedo jackets circulating with champagne flutes, and a large bar to provide whatever other kinds of drinks people wanted. To one side there were dining tables set up with crisp linen cloths, and on the other there were soft-looking padded benches and sofas. It was all sleek and modern with different-colored lights flashing from the walls.
Everywhere I looked there was one famous person after another. It was like I’d walked into my favorite movie. Or all my favorite movies put together. Brad Pitt smiled at me as he walked by, and although he was old enough to be my dad, it did make me feel a little light-headed.
Morgan stuck to my side, asking if I wanted something to eat or drink.
But surprisingly enough, my almost constant dull roar of an appetite had gone totally silent. My stomach was still upset over what had happened to Noah with that fan. “No, I’m good. But thank you!” I wondered whether she was going to babysit me until Noah arrived. Which made me feel a little ridiculous, as she seemed to be about my age, if not younger.
“Okay, I’m going to grab some food. Do you want to wait here for me?” she asked.
I kept surveying the crowd and saw Zoe Covington. “I see someone I know. I’ll be over there. Thanks!”
As I made my way over to Zoe, it suddenly struck me how presumptuous I was being. She might want to be alone with her husband or had other friends she wanted to chat with, and I was about to insert myself into their lives.
So I stopped, unsure of what to do, but Zoe saw me and waved me over.
When I got closer to her, I realized that her face looked pained. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m just worn out. I know I’ve been sitting for the last few hours, but these shoes hurt more than I’d anticipated. I need to sit down and this is where Chase left me, so I’m afraid if I go somewhere else he’ll never find me again, because I forgot my phone at home.”
It might have sounded a tad melodramatic, but as busy and big as this party was, it was probably a valid concern.
“Let’s get you off your feet, then!” There was a group of young women in a corner seat next to
us. They were preening for their camera, making the same movements and faces over and over again, obviously filming it for an Instagram story or something similar.
“Excuse me!” I came close to them, and they all glared up at me when I spoke. “Would you guys mind scooting over? My friend is pregnant and needs to sit.”
They looked me up and down and obviously found me lacking. Their ringleader said, “So? How is that our problem?”
These entitled little . . . Something inside me cracked with anger. “Listen, you look like you’ve never even sniffed a pizza, let alone eaten one, so I could probably snap you like twigs. But even worse, I will get my phone out and film you refusing to let Chase Covington’s pregnant wife put her swollen ankles up. What will happen to your likes then?”
I’d only wanted them to move over, but at my threats they up and left, shooting me dirty looks. I did a “ta-da” gesture with my arms, and Zoe laughed as she sat down.
“I have to get your number. You are definitely someone I want to be friends with.” She sighed with relief as she settled onto the seat.
This was a Cinderella fantasy. No way would she want to be my friend when I went back to my regular life. So I smiled at her. “Where’s your husband?”
“I sent him off to get me food. They have In-N-Out at this thing, and I’m starving.”
“Don’t you have people for that?” I asked with a laugh.
“We do. But sometimes I make Chase be the people so his head doesn’t get too big.” There was a small table at kneecap level, and she put her feet up on it and sighed again. “I thought you said you were a seat filler. Who brought you to the party?”
“Well, Noah Douglas did. But not like on a date. He’s just going to give me a ride home after he makes the rounds.”
“Oh. Interesting. The Vanity Fair party is not really a place to bring a not-a-date. I mean, companies pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to be advertisers at this event just to score tickets to it.”
The Seat Filler: A Novel Page 8