The Seat Filler: A Novel

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The Seat Filler: A Novel Page 9

by Sariah Wilson


  Wow. I had not known that. “Honestly, we’re not even really friends. I groomed his dog once.”

  Her eyebrows flew up, and I felt the need to explain. “That’s not a euphemism. I have my own dog-grooming business and he has a dog.”

  “We just got a dog. His name is Nemo. If I had my phone, I’d show you a picture. He’s a little cocker spaniel and the sweetest thing. My twins adore him, and he’s so patient with them. We should probably have a groomer, too. Do you have a card?”

  Shelby was going to punch me. “I don’t have it with me. If you want to look me up online, my company name is Waggin’ Wheels. Or I’m sure you can have your people call Noah’s people and track me down.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She let out another big sigh.

  While I knew about Chase, I realized I’d never read anything about his wife or kids. “Are you an actress, too?”

  “Definitely not.” Then we spent a long time chatting as she filled me in on how she ran an ocean conservation nonprofit with her husband and that they did their best to keep their family out of the spotlight. She said they’d met over Twitter, of all places, just before she graduated from college.

  “Is it hard?” I asked. “Being married to a movie star?”

  “It is. I wouldn’t undo any of it because I adore him, but it is hard. Especially at first when you’re not used to it. It felt like we came from two completely different worlds. There’s fans and then there’s groupies, which are at another level, and then you have stalkers. We’ve had to hire a lot of security. This isn’t what I would have chosen for my life, but he’s so good at what he does, I’d never want him to give it up.”

  “I know this is personal, and you don’t have to answer,” I said, “but do you worry about him cheating on you?”

  “Never. I mean, when we started dating, yes, but that was because I was so insecure. And it’s very common in Hollywood for that to happen. There are so many actors who cheat on their spouses while they’re filming and think it’s normal and then just go back to their regular lives. Chase doesn’t do that because he knows I would murder him in his sleep. And I do trust him. There are trade-offs in any relationship, and this is what we have to deal with.”

  “What do we have to deal with?” Chase asked, handing his wife a cardboard box full of six cheeseburgers.

  “People who think they’re in love with you and all the other nonsense that comes with fame. But never mind that because I so love you right now. Thank you for all this protein,” she responded, taking a burger out. “This is Juliet. From the ceremony?”

  “Congratulations!” I told him.

  He beamed at me. “Thank you!” He settled in beside her, and his demeanor changed. “Wait. Aren’t you the one who is here with Douglas?”

  “I’m not. Here with him. We’re not dating.”

  Chase muttered “Noah Douglas” under his breath. I looked at Zoe questioningly.

  She leaned in. “There’s this guy I used to work with named Noah, and Chase never liked him, but I think this is more about the fact that Chase is jealous of your Noah’s talent.”

  He wasn’t my Noah, but I didn’t correct her. “Why? Chase just won for Best Actor.”

  “Which he’s obviously thrilled about. But he feels like this is more of a popularity / which studio paid the most money / which actor did the best press tour kind of award. Noah is the one winning all the film critics’ awards at the festivals.” She held the box of burgers toward me. “Would you like one?”

  I’d been sitting here for a long time, which had allowed my appetite to return. I also didn’t know how much longer I’d be waiting, so I thanked her and took one. It was a bit cold but still delicious. An entire multitude of people had apparently been waiting to talk to Chase, as they kept coming up to him and preventing him from eating. I felt bad for him, watching him smile and shake hands instead of getting to consume this deliciousness. I did note that Chase was holding Zoe’s hand the entire time, which I thought was too sweet. Right when I finished my burger, I felt my phone buzzing. When I opened my clutch to check it, I spilled the contents all over the floor. Grumbling, I picked everything up and shoved it back in my purse except for my phone. I had a text from Morgan.

  Like some sort of spy operation. I texted back okay and put away my phone.

  I wondered if we’d be leaving soon.

  Zoe saw him before I did. She nudged me with her arm. “Your not-a-date is coming over.”

  Again, he was easy to spot, as he seemed to be a literal head and shoulders above everyone else around him. His gaze caught mine, and I swallowed hard at his expression.

  “There’s nothing going on between us.” But whether that was for her benefit or mine, I wasn’t sure. I felt like I’d said those words so often that they were starting to lose their meaning.

  Or maybe it was that they weren’t actually true.

  Zoe gave me a knowing look and then patted me on my arm. “If anyone knows how you’re feeling, it’s me. Because I’ve been there, done that, and given the way he is staring at you right now, you are in very deep trouble.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Noah had nearly reached us when he was stopped by an older man who had his arm around a much younger, beautiful woman. At the man’s request, Noah agreed to take a picture with the woman, who looked like she was in danger of spilling out of the top of her very tight, strapless, champagne-colored dress. And there was a lot that would have spilled out.

  Now she was talking to Noah, and he had this weird smile pasted on his face and a pained look in his eyes. Like a hostage trying to communicate without his captors knowing.

  I decided to be nice and rescue him.

  “I won Miss Malibu last year,” the abundantly bosom-blessed woman was telling Noah. “That’s how I met Harold here. He was one of the judges. And, if you think about it, winning kind of makes me a queen. I’ve got the crown and everything.”

  Noah didn’t seem to know what to say. “Oh. I hadn’t heard that Malibu had incorporated as a monarchy.”

  That made me smile, but his words seemed to confuse both Miss Malibu and her sugar daddy.

  “There you are!” I said. “Chase and Zoe are waiting to talk to you. If you’ll excuse us?” I tugged at Noah’s arm, and he quickly followed me.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. But I hope you enjoy it. You only get one save per night, and you just used yours up. And what was that?”

  “People just . . . tell me things. And try to impress me.”

  That seemed so strange. “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I probably shouldn’t fault them too much. At least they hadn’t met him and immediately called his shoes ugly. “That’s stupid,” I concluded. “I would never do that.”

  “I know.”

  There was something behind his words, something I didn’t want to examine, so I said, “Well, at least she was pretty.”

  “She wasn’t really my type.”

  “Uh, she was gorgeous. Just like that girl Hannah was gorgeous. And you’re trying to tell me you don’t have a type that’s physically perfect? Because yes, I’m sure you only date girls with personalities and brains that you can bounce a quarter off.”

  He laughed, and it was loud and joyful and glorious. I’d heard him laugh in movies and on TV dozens of times, but this was different. It was real, and I was the one who had caused it. It felt like something I should cross off a bucket list or something. Made Noah Douglas laugh. Check!

  When his laughter faded, that electric we’re-having-a-moment feeling returned, so I asked, “Don’t you find it aggravating? When people try to impress you?”

  He shrugged. “It annoys me, but it doesn’t take much to annoy me.”

  “Same,” I said and felt that click of connection again. I typically found myself generally annoyed with so many things. “Although I chose to be in a customer-based industry, which means I have to be nice. You are at a point where you coul
d be a diva if you wanted to.”

  “I could, but it’s a waste of everyone’s time. Working on a set is a bit like being in the army—we’re a team and we all have a job to do, and if one of us shows up late and throws tantrums, it ruins it for everyone. I don’t ever intend to be the weak link. And I do have to be nice to people at events like this. Because you never know who might be in charge someday. Although I was tempted to blow off the documentary winners I met.”

  “You don’t like documentaries?” I asked.

  “They’re just the news turned into kind of a movie.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “And here I was picturing you in a sweater-vest and fedora waxing on about the importance of documentaries to our cultural zeitgeist.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve never used the word zeitgeist in a sentence before.”

  We were both smiling when we joined Chase and Zoe. Noah greeted them both, congratulating Chase. The flashes from the photographers taking pictures of the two of them together seemed even brighter in this darkened room. Chase and Noah talked like the photographers weren’t even there. Like they were members of some glamorous zoo who lived their lives and ignored the tourists.

  They finished chatting, and Noah turned toward me like he was about to ask me a question, when a photographer interrupted him.

  “Could I get a picture of you two?”

  For a second I thought he meant Chase, but then I realized his question had been directed at me. “You don’t want me in your picture. I’m just a seat—”

  But Noah cut me off. “Of course.”

  We moved closer together. I rested my hand against his back, near his waist, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

  Without meaning to, I leaned into him so that our sides were pressed together.

  I had the strangest feeling. Like this was where I belonged.

  The photographer took several shots and then thanked us. He moved over to Chase and Zoe next, making the same request, but they stayed seated for their shots.

  I stepped back, wanting to clear my head. Being that close to him made me forget myself.

  Noah cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable, too. “So I’ve kissed all the right rings and taken all the pictures required of me and made all the studio executives’ second wives happy. Would you like to, I don’t know, meet some star? Dance?”

  “Dance?” I repeated. “Oh, I don’t dance. I don’t like to inflict that on other people.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I love music, but I lack that thing that makes your body move the way you want it to. One time at a dance in junior high, a chaperone literally pulled me off the dance floor because she thought I was having a seizure, so I don’t do that in public anymore.”

  There was a devilish gleam in his eyes. “I was just being polite when I asked. I didn’t really want to dance, but now you’re making me want to.”

  I wrongly assumed he was commiserating with me. “You don’t like dancing, either?”

  “Oh no, I can dance. I had lessons as a kid and can definitely hold my own. But the picture you’re painting, I can’t lie—it has me intrigued. I feel like I need to witness it.”

  “Hard pass.” There was no way. No matter how boyishly handsome he looked at the prospect.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to do? Do you want to grab some food?”

  I was about to say yes because I was already hungry again, and I was still in my mode of wanting this night to go on. To get to keep this shiny memory that I could tell my grandchildren about someday. If that photographer posted our picture online, I’d even have photographic evidence in case my grandchildren turned out to be little jerks who thought I was lying.

  But it was then that I noticed his face had taken on a haggard look. As if tonight had been harder for him than he would probably admit. I realized that I should put aside my desire to keep prolonging things and think about what would be better for him.

  “I’m actually a little tired. Can we call it a night?”

  There was definite relief in his eyes when he said, “Sure thing. Let’s get you back home before you turn into a pumpkin.” I couldn’t figure out if it was a good or bad thing that Noah seemed to recognize the Cinderella-ness of my situation. Maybe he thought that tonight was our one shot at the ball, only I was telling him that I was ready to dash down the stairs and make a break for my carriage and leave my sole chance behind.

  Because his assertion wasn’t too far off. Every moment since I’d met him had taken on this sort of Cinderella filter that was coloring everything around me. Like I was in somebody else’s Instagram story with mood lighting and hearts in my eyes. It wasn’t me, and tomorrow my pink Converse shoes would turn back into . . . well, they would stay pink Converse shoes. But this whole Noah Douglas thing would be over, and my life would be back to normal.

  But, as my mother would say, them’s the breaks.

  “Do you need to check in with anyone before we leave?” I asked, grabbing my clutch and making sure my phone was still inside.

  “Reina and Morgan have other clients, and Annie’s off the clock and enjoying herself on the dance floor, where no one thinks she’s having a seizure. We’re good.”

  I nudged him with my elbow as he enjoyed his own joke with a laugh. Then we said our goodbyes to Chase and Zoe, and she insisted on getting up to hug me. “I am going to look you up and I’ll be calling you!” she said.

  “Sounds good!” I responded. I hoped she would. I genuinely liked her.

  Then she told Noah, “You’ve got a good one there.”

  He smiled, a real smile, and said, “I know.”

  I didn’t bother protesting this time. Everybody seemed pretty set on their own interpretation of what was happening. Although my cheeks did flush slightly, and I hoped no one noticed.

  “Let me just text Ray so he can meet us out front. Okay. Done. Shall we go?” he asked as he slid his phone into his pants pocket. Then he did the most adorable thing. He offered me his arm while his hands were still in his pockets. It was such an old-fashioned and sweet gesture it made my heart swoon. I wondered if he’d learned it when he did that remake of Pride and Prejudice. He’d been the absolute best Mr. Darcy.

  I slid my arm through his, and as we walked out of the party, I was back to that upscale-zoo feeling. Flashes going off, people looking at us and whispering. “Everyone’s staring at us,” I told him.

  “Are they?”

  “Yes. And every last one of them is wondering if you lost a bet.”

  That got me a real, full-throated laugh again that still felt thrilling, and another part of my defenses melted.

  “Not true. They’re all wondering how I got so lucky.”

  I let out a grunt of disbelief. I had always been comfortable in my own skin and with my appearance. Sure, there were times I wished my thighs were a little smaller or my boobs a little bigger or that I could tan in the sun instead of frying like a lobster, but for the most part I was okay with me.

  But I didn’t have any delusions that I was on the same level with the typical women he dated, because I was not the double-D, fluorescent-white teeth, hair extensions, and fake eyelashes kind of girl. The kind that filled this room.

  “More like they wondered how you got lucky when you had that Hannah person as your date.”

  “Hannah? That was a setup by my publicist.”

  I blinked in surprise. Shelby had called that one, too. “Do you do everything your publicist tells you to do?”

  He took a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. “I started out my career on a kids’ show. I played a character named Felix. A lot of actors never overcome that one role they are famous for. It becomes the only way the public can see them. I was in danger of that happening to me, but I have an amazing team who has guided me onto the path I wanted to be on. My agent, Sandy, and Reina are the best in the business. So when Reina said, ‘Bring Hannah Fremont as your date,’ I did.”


  “What about tonight?” I asked.

  “They said I could make tonight about me.”

  The implication was there—that me being with him as his not-a-date was what he wanted. I couldn’t deny what he seemed to be admitting without using the actual words.

  When I didn’t respond, he kept talking. “Sandy and Reina are the reason I’m where I am in my career.”

  He was really selling himself short, and it made me lay on the sarcasm nice and thick. “Yes, your talent has nothing to do with it, I suppose.”

  “Another backhanded compliment. You keep giving me those and I might get a big head.”

  “Might?” I teased. “I don’t think you need any help there.”

  He laughed again, and the world around me became so dazzling and bright that it took me a second to come back down to earth. So it took me another second to realize that someone was calling his name from a distance. More than one person. But his long legs kept eating up the ground in front of us, and I was glad I could keep pace. “I think someone said your name.”

  “A lot of people say my name. I don’t have to respond. I promised you a ride home, and right now that’s what I’m going to do. My debt to this particular society has been paid in full for the night. I’m off the clock now.”

  His words made my toes tingle. Why did it make me feel brilliant and special that I was the only thing he was focusing on? That in this moment, keeping his word to me was more important than anything else?

  The sea of photographers outside had pretty much cleared out, and there was only a handful of fans waiting near where the cars were picking up people leaving the party. We had to wait only about a minute, and Noah waved to the remaining fans who were calling to him.

  I wondered if any of them were going to try to attach themselves to him like a baby sloth, but they were fairly outnumbered by the guards.

  The car pulled up, and Noah opened the door for me. I got in, and he slid in next to me.

  And closed the door. And the car left.

  “Wait. Aren’t we forgetting some people?”

  “No.”

  “What about your merry band of work wives?”

 

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