Heartthrob

by Katie McCoy

  “Can’t say I’m surprised,” he told me.

  “Really?” I raised an eyebrow. Everyone had been surprised. And for good reason. Even by Hollywood standards, my engagement to Penny had happened extremely quickly.

  “Well, OK, I was a little surprised,” Declan confessed. “But everyone can see that you two are a great couple.” He gave me a thoughtful look. “I mean, she’s way too good for you, but I guess you’ll just have to work extra hard to deserve her.”

  I laughed. “Trust me, mate, I could not agree more.”

  I thought of Penny that morning, how sweet and soft she had been in my arms. Just a few more hours and I could be with her again.

  “You made the right choice,” Declan told me. “Choosing someone outside of Hollywood. You’re going to need her to keep you grounded. To call you on your bullshit.”

  “I know,” I agreed readily. “And she’s more than ready to do that. Maybe even when I don’t deserve it.”

  Declan gave me a look.

  “OK, OK.” I held up my hands. “I always deserve it.”

  We were both laughing when Olivia returned, asking about some blocking on the next scene. We’d been shooting all day, but we still had our big scene coming up soon—the dramatic moment between Elizabeth and Darcy when they both finally confess their feelings for each other—and I knew that Olivia was feeling the pressure to get it right.

  “The hardest working actors I know,” Declan said with great fondness, before leaving us alone.

  “This shouldn’t take long,” Olivia told me. “I know you’re probably eager to get back to Penny.”

  “I am,” I said honestly. “But I want to make sure the scene is right. Penny understands how important this is.”

  Olivia nodded. “She seems really great,” she told me, strolling a little way away from the camera setups.

  “She is,” I agreed, surprised to hear Olivia talking anything except work. She’d been super-professional all shoot: showing up for rehearsals and filming, then disappearing to who knows where? No chatting with the crew, no boozy nights down the pub. I almost admired her discipline and commitment to the role—even if I did think she could be having more fun.

  “I heard you’re up for a pretty big role after this one,” she said, giving me a knowing look. “A superhero franchise is a great upward move for you.”

  “Thanks, but that’s all still up in the air,” I responded, not sure how much I could say about the job I was still praying to get. Then again, Olivia always seemed to know everything. I would catch her on set, sitting by herself and watching all that was going on around her.

  “What’s next for you?” I asked.

  “I’d love to tell you . . .” She gave me a secretive smile.

  “But then you’d have to kill me?” I asked.

  “Yep.” She nodded. “However, I should be able to announce it soon.”

  “Something you’re excited about, I hope?” I wanted know, being completely aware of the fact that sometimes actors—even great ones like Olivia—had to take roles they weren’t excited about. It was all part of the game. A game that Olivia seemed to know how to play very, very well.

  “I am,” she confirmed. “It’s all going according to plan.”

  “You have a plan?” I asked.

  “I have many plans,” she told me, her tone becoming serious. “And I always plan five steps ahead. At least.”

  I chuckled. There she was again, showing off that laser focus. Planning like that was probably what kept her out of the tabloids and away from the kind of scandals I kept finding myself in. There were probably quite a few things I could learn from her.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar figure approach.

  “Olivia,” I made the introductions. “You’ve met my publicist, Stella, right?”

  “Sure, at the BAFTA tea last year.” Olivia flashed her a smile. “Great to see you again.”

  “You too,” Stella cooed. “The dailies look amazing. You’re doing a wonderful job.”

  “What about me?” I joked. Stella rolled her eyes.

  “You’re fine, too.”

  “Fine,” I echoed. “Gee, thanks team.”

  Olivia laughed. “I should get going,” she said. “See you tomorrow, Jax.”

  The minute she was out of ear shot, Stella gave me an assessing look.

  “The two of you look adorable together,” she said. “And I wasn’t kidding about the dailies. Your chemistry is burning up on screen.”

  “Thanks.” I started walking towards my trailer, Stella hurrying to keep up. “It’ll all help the movie.”

  “You know what else would help the movie?” Stella said, looking thoughtful. “You and Olivia.”

  “Me and Olivia what?”

  “You and Olivia.” Stella gestured. “Together.”

  I laughed, but she seemed serious. “Come on,” I exclaimed. “I literally got engaged to Penny less than 48 hours ago.”

  She waved a hand. “I know,” she said, “but the movie won’t be releasing for another year. And if you and Olivia happened to have started dating in time for the press tour—”

  “Stella.” I stopped her, sternly. “No.”

  “It was just an idea.” Stella smiled. “That’s what you pay me for, isn’t it?”

  I gave her a look.

  “OK, OK. One fiancée at a time,” she agreed. “Speaking of which, is Penny ready for tomorrow night?”

  Tomorrow night the whole cast was going to the premiere of Mikey’s latest movie. It was going to be Penny’s first red carpet premiere, and I planned on making sure that she was pampered and relaxed beforehand.

  “She will be,” I told Stella. “Don’t worry about that.”

  I knew that red carpets were often difficult for the significant others of actors, especially when they weren’t part of Hollywood, but I also knew that Penny was tough.

  Stella, however, did not seem as confident as I was.

  “Just be careful,” she told me. “It’s a lot of pressure. She’ll be under the spotlight in a big way, and that’s not easy.”

  “Trust me,” I reassured her. “I’ve got this. Penny’s going to feel like the belle of the ball. Everything is going to be fine.”

  25

  Penny

  I had never been touched by so many strangers in my entire life.

  I’d been in Jax’s London hotel room for hours, getting poked and prodded and primed and polished by the best glam squad the city had to offer. Jax had left the minute he saw the first round of professionals arrive, and now all of them were doing their own thing to a separate part of my body. Someone was waxing my legs, someone was painting my toes, someone was plucking my eyebrows, and yet another brave soul was trying their best to wrestle my hair into an elegant style. I felt like a rag doll, but it was all worth it if they magicked something stylish in time for the premiere.

  There was a knock on the door and Emmy entered, carrying a garment bag with her.

  “Hey!” I leapt up—almost kicking the poor pedicurist in the face. I drew Emmy close and whispered. “You have no idea how grateful I am to see a familiar face.”

  She grinned. “You think this is bad? Try getting ready for a royal Trooping of the Guard. It took six people to make me camera-ready, and even then, I smeared chocolate down my jacket the minute we arrived.”

  I exhaled in relief. Emmy knew exactly what I was going through.

  “Relax.” She winked. “I’ve got this.”

  She turned to the crew and raised her voice. “Can we have a minute please?” she asked, her voice ringing with authority, and within moments, the room was cleared.

  “How did you do that?” I marveled.

  Emmy grinned. “Cool, huh? Charlie’s been teaching me.”

  “Princess in training,” I smiled back, and she laughed.

  For the first time since Jax had left that morning, I felt myself relax. Not an easy thing to do considering my hair was in rollers and I had
a mud mask on my face, but the glass of champagne that Emmy passed me definitely helped the situation.

  “So, how are you doing?” she asked, hanging the bag up and coming to pour herself her own glass of champagne.

  “I’m fine,” I told her.

  She gave me a look.

  “OK, OK,” I confessed. “I’m nervous. This is so different from anything I’ve ever done before.”

  “Sort of seems like this whole thing is different from anything you’ve ever done,” Emmy pointed out. “Following Jax to the UK, spending your days on a movie set, getting engaged . . .”

  I blushed and took another gulp of champagne. “You’re right,” I told her. “It’s all different and strange and oh my God, what if I screw everything up? I could trip on the red carpet, or wear the wrong thing, or—”

  “Breathe!” Emmy reminded me. “You’re doing great so far. You’ll handle tonight beautifully.”

  She unzipped the garment bag, pulling out the custom gown that she was loaning me for the night. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw how gorgeous it was. Black and velvet, it looked like the midnight sky, covered in glittering beads. True to Emmy’s style, it had a very loose, drapey shape, one that was also seductive. In this case, it seemed as if the whole back of the gown was open.

  “You are a genius,” I said reverently, careful to keep my drink far away from the gorgeous gown. “This is incredible!”

  “Thanks!” Emmy beamed. “It’s part of my new collection. So, if anyone asks, you’re wearing an Emmy original.”

  “I’ll yell it from the rooftops,” I promised.

  “So how are things between you and Jax?” Emmy asked, smoothing out the dress. “Nice ring, by the way.”

  “Isn’t it gorgeous?” I said, unable to hide the satisfaction from my voice. “And things are great.”

  Falling asleep in his arms, waking up to his kisses, feeling adored and cherished, all of that was perfect. It was just the pesky matter of why it was happening, that was the thing that was a little more complicated.

  “Great is good,” Emmy said, giving me a cautious look. “Because it’s only worth it if the guy is. I mean, the loss of privacy, the constant scrutiny, the press hounding you . . . I wouldn’t do it for anyone but Charlie. I just hope Jax is worth it, too.”

  “He is,” I told her, trying my hardest to believe it. “He has to be.”.

  “You look amazing.”

  Jax stood in the doorway of the hotel room, and the look on his face made my afternoon of discomfort all OK.

  “Thanks, it’s all the dress,” I said, doing a little twirl.

  “No,” he corrected me, “it’s the woman wearing it.”

  I flushed. “You look pretty good yourself,” I told him, changing the subject.

  Because damn, could the man fill out a tux.

  “Should we get going?” I asked, collecting my tiny clutch purse. “We don’t want to be late.”

  “Wait,” Jax said, stopping me by the door. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  I looked around, confused. “I’ve got my cellphone, lipstick, emergency wet wipes . . .”

  “No.” He grinned, looking amused. “I meant this.”

  He stepped closer, and captured my lips in a soft, sweet kiss.

  Ahhh . . .

  I sank against him, letting the wave of sensation wash over me. His jaw was smooth and cleanly shaven under my fingertips, and I stroked over his jaw, teasing his tongue with my own.

  Jax drew away. “Whatever happens tonight, no matter how crazy it gets, just remember, you’re beautiful. And I’m lucky as hell to have you on my arm.”

  Now I knew I was blushing.

  “OK, let’s roll.”

  He offered his arm, and the moment I took it, the moment my hand slipped into his, I knew that I would be OK. As long as he didn’t let go.

  We drove through the busy evening streets in a bone fide black stretch limousine, complete with leather seats and a handy minibar for a last-minute shot of Dutch courage. But as we turned towards Leicester Square, I heard the crowd before I even saw them, the screams and yelling from all the people crammed behind some flimsy barricades that were lined up along the red carpet.

  I gulped. “Is it safe?” I whispered, and Jax squeezed my hand.

  “Security keeps things tight. Don’t worry.” He leaned forward to look out the window and I could see the excited gleam in his eyes. He was eager to get out onto the red carpet, to see fans, to mingle with other actors and enjoy himself.

  I wanted to stay in the limo, or better yet turn right back around to the hotel. But I held tight to Jax’s hand, allowing him to pull me out of the car.

  “Over here!”

  “Smile for the camera, that’s right, luv!”

  “Jax! Jax! I LOVE YOUUUUU.”

  Immediately my senses were overwhelmed. There were people screaming out Jax’s name, cameras going off, and just a general sense of hysteria all around us. A woman dressed in black with a headset directed us down the carpet. Every few feet we had to stop and pose, smiling for the lines of cameras that were waiting for Jax.

  “Jax, can we steal a moment?”

  Reporters urged him over and I saw someone from the British version of FastFeed and thought of Mia. What would she think of this whole thing? Would I ever get to tell her the truth?

  Still holding tight to my hand, Jax led us over to some of the reporters.

  “Congratulations,” one of them shouted, thrusting a microphone into his face. “Does a fast engagement mean that a wedding is soon to follow?”

  Jax gave the reporter a winning smile. “All I know is that I want to spend the rest of my life with this woman. I’ll let her decide the rest of the details.”

  I forced a smile on my face, hoping that I didn’t look as uncomfortable as I felt.

  “Let’s see the ring,” the reporter prompted.

  I thrust my hand forward. The diamond sparkled in the light as flashes went off around us, capturing the beautiful ring.

  “It’s Olivia!” someone shouted, and both Jax and I turned to see that Olivia had just arrived on the red carpet, looking stunning in a floor length red gown with a long slit that showed off her gorgeous legs.

  “Let’s get some pictures of the two of you together,” the reporter ordered, and before I knew what was happening, one of the PAs was pulling me away from Jax.

  My hand was wrenched from his, but he didn’t seem to notice, gamely putting his arm around Olivia, the two of them smiling and posing like the pros they were.

  “Can you move back more?” The PA guided me even further away. “We don’t want to spoil the shot.”

  I stood to the side, feeling increasingly awkward and uncomfortable. As Jax and Olivia talked to the press, it became abundantly clear that he was in his element here. And I was not. In fact, I wanted to dive back into the limo and head back to the hotel where I could hide in my room in a robe, eating ice cream and watching The Real Housewives. I didn’t even care which one.

  I was relieved when Morgan appeared—dressed to the nines in a short, tight black dress—and linked her arm through mine. “Come on, they’ve got snacks inside.”

  “I should wait,” I said, gesturing to Jax and Olivia, still talking a mile a minute to their adoring press.

  Morgan laughed. “You’ll be a while. These things go on forever. Trust me.”

  “I guess . . .” I checked for Jax again, but there were a ton of people between us now, and he probably couldn’t see me at all. “OK, let’s go.”

  Inside, Morgan whirled off to find food, and I sat on a couch in the corner of the theater lobby. With my dark dress, I pretty much blended into the wallpaper, and nobody looked at me twice. They were all too busy posing and chatting in a whirl of glamor and excitement, so I played with my phone, trying not to watch the time.

  I wondered how long it would take for Jax to finish—or for him to realize I wasn’t next to him anymore.

  It see
med to take hours, even though I was certain it was only twenty minutes or so before Jax came inside and waved over to me. I leapt up and went to join him, and he gave me an excited smile. “Where did you go? I lost you in the crowd.”

  I didn’t bother to correct him, remind him how I had been purposefully pulled away so that he could be photographed with Olivia. Instead, I just held onto his hand as if it were my life raft, following him deeper into the building.

  I had hoped it would have been a little less intense without the line of paparazzi shouting and taking pictures of us, but now it was schmoozefest 2017. Jax waved at everyone, happy to see people, happy to say hello. He was kind and introduced me to actors and directors and writers, but all of them gave me a polite smile and then turned their full attention towards Jax. He soaked it all up, clearly in his element.

  “. . . They’re shooting in Morocco, for the tax breaks . . .”

  “. . . I heard he couldn’t get the insurance bond, not after the stint in rehab . . .”

  “. . . We’re looking at a festival release, Sundance, then maybe Venice . . .”

  After a while of not following a single word, I tugged Jax’s elbow.

  “I’ll be right back,” I excused myself, and ducked through the crowd, hoping that the bathroom would feel less claustrophobic than the giant lobby of a theater did.

  I found the door and pushed inside. It was a calm expanse of blue tile, totally empty, and for what felt like the first time all night, I took a deep breath. Pressing my palms to the cold tile of the bathroom sink, I regarded myself in the mirror. You can do this, I told myself. You’re here for Jax. You can do it.

  Then Olivia glided in, looking utterly effortless.

  “Penny!” she said, greeting me warmly. “Oh my God, you look divine. Sorry about interrupting you and Jax before. Things can get crazy out there.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, at least grateful that she had noticed.

  “I’d like to say you get used to it.” She began reapplying her lipstick. “But I don’t know if you ever do. You just adapt.” She gave me a sideways look. “At least you won’t be dealing with it for much longer.”