by Kim Desalvo
“I’m glad to hear it.” Bradley turned to Tia. “I’ve followed the story; with Dylan being my client and all; and I have to say that you’ve really handled this whole thing well. You’ve got class—a lot more than she’s been showing lately.”
Since she’d been out on bond, Penelope had been making the rounds of the talk show circuit and posting frequently on social media. She continued to insinuate that she and Dylan had more than a professional relationship, and that it was only a matter of time before he got bored with the choices he made. It was getting old, but Tia was way past the point where her words had any sting. If anything, her pathetic attempts at gaining sympathy made her look even more desperate.
“Yes, well, retaliating only brings me down to her level, and means I have to interact with her in some way, which I’d really like to avoid as much as possible.”
“Which brings us to the point of this meeting; to discuss your options for a civil suit. The buzz that I hear around town is that her lawyer is going to enter some sort of a mental health plea—and her behavior lately is making me think that maybe he’s right. I’ll be honest with you; I don’t think that the prosecutor is going to push very hard to make an example of her—she’s young, famous, and let’s face it—a bit unbalanced. She wasn’t stealing Social Security checks or credit card numbers; they were love letters. The Feds don’t really stand to gain anything by going for prison time. I think they’ll go for a stint in a psych facility and some fines; probably some community service of some sort. Of course, she won’t be able to profit from the situation, either—that option will go to the two of you.”
“What does that mean?” Tia asked.
“It means that she can’t write a book about her ordeal or secure any film rights for the story. If it were made into a movie, she couldn’t star in it or even have a minor role, for that matter. She can’t consult, and she can’t be paid for interviews related to what happened in New Zealand.”
Tia’s eyes narrowed. “Made into a movie? Our story?”
“Why not? It’s got intrigue, adventure, a great love story—it would be a film about making a film that has a perfect villain and a love triangle tossed in for good measure. Sounds like Hollywood to me.”
“Don’t forget a happily ever after,” Dylan added with a smirk.
“Wouldn’t be a chick flick without one,” Bradley winked. “Speaking of chick flicks, I also hear through the legal grapevine that she’s been pretty much blacklisted. No one wants to work with her until they figure out the whole legal mess and frankly, a lot of them are worried about her state of mind. She’s kind of teetering on a rail right now, if you know what I mean.”
“Do you know how much she ended up having to pay in New Zealand?” Dylan asked.
“I think it was somewhere around one-fifty.”
“Thousand?” Tia asked, her eyes wide.
“Yes, ma’am. I imagine she’ll face even more here. New Zealand wanted to get rid of her.”
“That seems like an awful lot.”
“Well, there was a long list of offenses, and each of them held a penalty. Plus, she wanted to get out of there, so was willing to pay it. Which brings us back once again to why we’re here.” Bradley slid a thick folder from his desk and opened it for Dylan and Tia. “She imposed on a lot of your civil rights and caused you both a lot of very public pain and suffering. The fact that she documented so much of it for herself, which will be on display for all the world to see, is going to make it pretty open and shut. Just the pain and suffering alone could…”
Tia held up her hand to interrupt. “I don’t want to press charges.”
The men stared at her. “Excuse me?” Bradley asked.
She turned to Dylan and let out a huge sigh. “I don’t want to do it, Dyl.”
“Why the bloody hell not?”
“Believe me, I’ve thought about it a lot, and I just don’t see what it’s going to accomplish.”
“It’s going to accomplish justice, Tia, pure and simple.”
“It tastes a little more like vengeance to me, and it’s really sour. It isn’t me, and I don’t think it’s you, either.”
“Either way, she needs to pay for what she stole from us.”
Tia took his hand and looked into his eyes. “What’s the right price, Dyl? She’s already paying, and not just with money. She’s lost her credibility, maybe her career, maybe even her mind—and I know from personal experience how it feels to lose you.”
“Oh, Tia…”
“I mean it, Dyl. She really thought she loved you; maybe she even did. Her own family has dragged her through the mud and disowned her; she could be looking at jail time and another big fine…how much more should she pay?”
“You know, you could get a pretty penny; especially since you can both sue her individually,” Bradley tossed in.
Tia’s eyes didn’t leave Dylan’s. “We don’t need a pretty penny, or any amount of pennies, baby. Suing her isn’t going to prove her guilt; she’s already done that to herself. It isn’t going to change anything that’s already happened; it’s only going to rehash it. I don’t want to have to appear in court to repeat what I’ve already said at least a hundred times, and I sure as hell don’t want to relive it all again. I don’t even want to give her the chance to tell her side of the story, much less have to hear it. Whether we sue or not, we’ve already won—and she’s already lost. A lot, if you ask me. I just want to put the whole thing behind us and move forward. We’re planning a bright future, and I don’t want a single minute of that joy getting tarnished by Esther Caglio.”
Dylan pushed his fingers through his hair and dropped his head, cradling it in his hands and murmuring to himself. Finally, he sighed and looked at Tia, nodding slowly and smirking with a half-smile.
“Bloody hell. You’re right; of course you are; about everything, and I couldn’t love you more for it.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek and whispered, “You have the most beautiful heart, baby girl.”
“I love you, too—I knew you’d understand,” she whispered back.
Dylan sat back in his chair and contemplated a moment longer before speaking. “You’re sure? This is your final decision?” Tia pressed her lips together in a thin smile and nodded, and Dylan turned to Bradley. “OK then, I concur. She certainly isn’t getting away with anything, and it would be a breath of fresh air to put it behind us once and for all.” His eyes met Tia’s again and he smiled. “There you have it, then. I want it firmed up that she can’t profit from any of this, but aside from that, we won’t be pressing charges. This whole thing is officially over.”
Bradley pressed his lips together and alternated between nodding and shaking his head. “As your attorney, you know I need to advise you of what you stand to lose if you don’t go through this, but as your friend, I have to say that I respect your decision. You’ve got yourself a great girl here, Dylan. Penelope didn’t stand a chance.”
“Not even for a second,” he smiled at Tia, pure adoration in his eyes.
They spent nearly another hour signing papers and going over details with Bradley before he stood to shake their hands. “Until next time, Dylan, it’s always a pleasure. Enjoy the premier, and best of luck to both of you.”
“You’re going to rock that red carpet tonight,” Dylan said as they left Bradley’s office. “You ready to turn some heads?”
“Oh, I’m more than ready,” she smiled.
Three hours later, Tia glided out of the bedroom of the suite and did a slow twirl in front of a waiting Dylan. “Wow,” he whistled between his teeth. “Stunning doesn’t seem an adequate word for how incredibly sexy you look, but I can’t think of a better one. You are one gorgeous lady, soon-to-be Mrs. Miller.”
Gus had designed her dress; and it was a knockout. The blues and greens captured the colors of both their eyes, and it fit her perfectly, accentuating her best features and flowing in soft layers from her waist to the floor. The borrowed teardrop diamond rested just above the g
athered bodice, and made her neck look long and lean. She felt like a dream, and Dylan’s eyes concurred.
“You clean up pretty well yourself,” she smiled as she ran her eyes over the man she loved, taking in the perfectly tailored tux and the careless tumble of his wavy hair. “Talk about turning some heads.”
“We are pretty damn good together, aren’t we?”
“In every single way,” she smiled, moving into his arms.
“Oh my God,” Tia breathed as the limo took its final turn and slowly approached the theater. “It’s like Disneyland.”
She’d seen it on television, of course, but that didn’t even come close to preparing her for a Hollywood movie premier; especially when she’d actually be walking the red carpet. Searchlights tossed beams into the fading sky, the theater was illuminated in a full spectrum of colors, photographers stood at the ready to get the first photos of them exiting the limo, and hundreds of fans stood along the velvet ropes and spilled into the street waving and cheering. There were hoards of people stepping off busses parked down the street, and one of those open-air tour busses slowed, people on the upper deck waving and snapping pictures. A few of Dylan’s co-stars were already on the carpet, some chatting briefly with fans and others posing for photo ops or interviews. The whole thing had been orchestrated so that Dylan would arrive last, and the fact that Bruce Dinsmore, his character’s kidnapper, was just starting his walk, allowed Tia to breathe a little sigh of relief. She wasn’t nervous about tonight—well, maybe now she felt a flutter in her stomach—but she had worried that the star who should have hit the carpet right before Dylan might show up, and the last thing she wanted was a public confrontation with Penelope.
He tipped her chin up and kissed the tip of her nose. “As usual, the best view is through your eyes.” he smiled. “I just want to fall into them and see the world as you do, love.”
She snuggled into him, and let out a little squeal of delight. “Oh, Dyl, never in a million years did I ever picture myself doing something like this. I feel like Cinderella at the ball.” The constant flash of cameras and the swing of the searchlights gave everything a strobe-like effect—it was like being inside of a dream.
“Cinderella couldn’t hold a candle to you.” Dylan took her face in his hands and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “You look every bit the part, but I’m glad that at midnight, you’ll still still be in my arms.”
“I’m so glad you’re my prince, Dyl.”
A valet in a tux with tails stepped over to open the door and Tia could almost feel the anticipation of the waiting crowd. Dylan raised his fist and Tia tapped it with her own. “Let’s do this thing, shall we?” he smiled, stepping out of the car and offering a quick wave to the gathered crowd before reaching in for Tia’s hand. The voices from the mostly female fans were unbelievable—Dylan was the one many of them had come to see, and he turned on his rock star charm. Tia assumed her own public persona, and arm in arm, they started their stroll toward the entrance.
“Dylan, Dylan, will you sign my book?” “Dylan, can I get a picture?” “Dylan, I love you!” “Tia, you rock!” “Tia, can I get your autograph?” The very atmosphere was crackling with electricity and Tia swept her eyes over the crowd, feeling easier when she took in the number of security guards that perked up to full attention and scanned the swarm of people as they exited the vehicle.
They started their journey down the red velvet mingling with the audience, as it should be, singing autographs and pausing to take photos with a few of the fans. Then, they wound their way through the various stations manned by TV personalities and photographers, stopping for brief interviews and more pictures. They ended up near the entrance where the rest of the cast and crew had gathered, catching up with each other and mingling with other celebrities who had shown up to take in the premier or get a little time in the spotlight themselves. They worked their way around the group, making introductions and accepting congratulations on the movie and their engagement.
“Great to see you, Dylan.” Stan separated himself from the crowd and gave Dylan a short hug. “You must be Tia. I certainly have heard a lot about you. Congratulations to you.”
Tia shook his hand. “Thanks so much, it’s nice to meet you, Stan. I’ve heard a lot about you, as well. I owe you a huge thank you for being so understanding when Dylan had to leave on such short notice.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t too happy about it at the time, I have to admit, but things came together surprisingly well, I think. I’m pretty happy with the end result. I imagine it will be a bit of a mixed bag for the two of you; watching it. I’m really sorry about the whole situation—Penelope’s really been…vocal.”
“Now there’s the bloody understatement of the year. Please tell me she isn’t here.”
“Not that I’ve seen or heard. We certainly didn’t invite her. Some of the studio reps thought it would be great press if the two of you were seen in public together for the first time since the shit hit the fan, but I didn’t agree. I put my foot down on that pretty hard.”
“I’m glad for that, and I owe you another one.”
“You’re both coming to my after-party, right?”
“We’ll definitely be there.”
Tia was introduced to the rest of the cast and a lot of the crew, all of whom greeted Dylan warmly and seemed genuinely glad to meet her. “His whole trailer was covered in pictures of you and he talked about you all the time,” Sadie said, pulling her into a warm hug. “It was so sweet. I’m really glad things worked out for the two of you.”
Finally, Tia watched her parents walk in with Bo, their eyes wide as they took in the spectacle. She ran over and threw her arms around them. “Pretty cool, huh?” she whispered to her mom. “Did you ever imagine you’d be on the VIP guest list for one of these? I know I never did.”
“Not in my wildest dreams,” Danielle said. “It’s a trip, isn’t it? Don Pradinski interviewed us on the way in!”
Bo took Tia’s hand and lifted it over her head, spinning her in a slow circle before pulling her into his arms. “You are the best looking thing in this whole room,” he said with a smile. “Strummer Boy better know how lucky he is!”
“He knows it all too well,” Dylan agreed, joining them and greeting his best man. “You look beautiful too, Danielle. I’m so glad you could be here with us.” He kissed both her cheeks and shook hands with Will before lifting a finger to summon of one of the servers and handing each of them a flute of champagne.
Tia was thrilled to see the spark in her mother’s eyes. Dylan had given her the option of inviting whomever she liked, but she decided to be a bit selfish and keep this first one mostly for herself. There would certainly be others, and she could invite other friends then. Her parents, though, were a given.
They hung out for about another half hour in the VIP lounge, sipping champagne and chatting before they were waved inside and ushered to their seats. Stan made some opening remarks about the ‘interesting circumstances’ surrounding the making of the movie, and the house lights dimmed.
I should be in there, Penelope thought as she watched the scene from across the street. That’s my red carpet, too, damn it. I earned it! She’d spent the better part of the past two days; ever since Ben had called her warning her against showing up uninvited; weighing her options. She was one of the stars; she had every right to be strolling the red carpet and basking in the applause and adoration of her fans. The last time she’d gotten a public reception was when she was brought back from New Zealand; and to say that it had been less than glamorous would be the understatement of the century—she’d been given the same shabby clothes she’d been wearing the night Dylan walked in on her in her trailer, and they wouldn’t even give her any make-up or let her do her hair properly. They refused to provide her with any decent hair products in jail, and her crown had lost its shine and luster. Much like her life these days.
The scene had been a very mixed bag. She had expected fans to show up in support of
her and they had; but there were more than a few hurtful, negative remarks hurled in her direction by the small crowd, as well.
Watching Dylan, looking incredibly sexy in his gray tux, his wavy hair falling past his shoulders in casual disarray, was downright painful; but watching his date strutting around in her expensive gown—God, she could see the fucking rock on her finger from here—was like a punch in the gut. How dare she walk around like she belonged there, posing for pictures and signing autographs. She was nobody!
Ben told her point blank that it was a bad idea—the last thing she needed was more negative press, he’d said, and her showing up expecting to get the star treatment was likely to end badly. “You need to lay low for a while, Penelope,” he told her. “Give it a couple months for the spotlight to fade, and then you can start thinking about your comeback. Consider it a gift Miller and Hastings aren’t pressing charges—that’ll get this thing finished a lot more quickly and with a lot less fanfare.”
But the spotlight wasn’t fading, and she was tired of waiting. First it was their reunion, then their engagement, her arraignment, and now the wedding was in the news; especially since no one could nail down the actual location of where the ceremony would take place. It wasn’t going away any time soon, and she desperately needed to do something to get her life back on track. God knew she’d been at the bottom before, and she’d always managed to find a way to claw her way back up to the top.
She looked down at the ticket her agent was able to get and felt the hot coil of anger twist around in her gut. No way in hell she should have to sneak into her own movie premier; no way she should have to watch from across the street, a hoodie covering her head and glasses over her eyes—not when her name was second on the goddamn bill. She had earned the right to walk that fucking carpet and she needed to see the film; needed to be in the same room with Dylan even if he had no idea she was there. But, maybe if she could catch him alone, she could finally get a chance to explain her side of the story.