“You’re not exactly being helpful here,” I growled, irritated at the mention of yet another man with whom my woman’s name had been linked publicly. It wasn’t like I thought any of these guys were a threat to what I was building with Morgan; we were solid together. I was just pissed because the only person I wanted her name to be linked romantically with was mine—even though I’d actively avoided that my entire adult life. I quickly realized I was taking the situation out on Shawn when he’d done nothing wrong. “Shit. Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. None of this is your fault. If anyone’s responsible, it’s me.”
“No worries, man. I get it.” Shawn clapped me on the shoulder. “And don’t beat yourself up too hard. All you did was fall in love.”
Fall in love. Shawn’s matter-of-fact statement was like a wake-up call for me. I knew my feelings for Morgan were unlike anything I’d experienced before, but I hadn’t thought in terms of the L-word . . . until Shawn put the idea into my head. But it wasn’t the right time or place to work out the extent of my feelings. That could wait. Right now, I needed to come up with a plan for how to handle the shitstorm swirling around Morgan.
Running my hand through my hair, I groaned, “What the fuck am I going to do?”
“Call Mario,” Shawn suggested. “He’s been blowing up both our phones since the story first hit, and I’ve been putting him off to wait until you were on your last shot for the day.”
I dropped down onto the couch and reached up to snag my phone when Shawn tossed it to me. Then I pulled up Mario in my contacts and hit the button to dial him. The call barely connected when he picked up in the middle of the first ring and barked, “Where the hell have you been?”
“I was right where I was supposed to be—on set, in the middle of filming. You know how intense it can get when I’m shooting a Hunting Evil film,” I reminded him. “It’s not like Shawn can interrupt me for just anything.”
“This isn’t just anything,” Mario retorted. “You just told me yesterday that we needed to come up with a plan for how to tackle telling the world that you’re dating Morgan Kelly—a relationship you’d kept hidden from me—and I’m already seeing stories about a hickey you gave her. If you aren’t careful here, your connection to her is going to become public knowledge before we have the chance to control the narrative. When were those photos taken? Why didn’t you let me know she was flying out to see you so I could have prepared for damage control? What are the chances anyone is going to connect the dots and figure out that you’re the mystery man in the back of the limo?”
“I’m the client, the one who pays your bills. I don’t need your permission to have my girlfriend come visit me,” I snarled, taking offense to the way he was barking questions like our roles were reversed and he was the boss of me. It wasn’t often that Mario stepped wrong with me, but it was also rare for me to make waves of any kind when I was normally more careful with my reputation than he was.
“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered. “I get it; you’re a big boy and can make your own decisions when it comes to the woman in your life. But you having a girlfriend is new for me too, and it’s hard to do my job when I don’t know what’s going on. I need you to keep me in the loop so I can plan for every alternative and keep you covered.”
“I didn’t expect there to be anything you needed to worry about,” I grunted. “I did everything I could’ve to limit the risk of us being found out while Morgan was here. I used the same private jet service I always fly on, the driver of the limo signed an NDA, I stayed in the car, and we never even left my house once she was here.”
“Well, shit. You really did cover all the bases,” he grumbled. “It’s probably why they haven’t connected you being here with her visit.”
“Not yet, anyway. The pictures were only taken three days ago.” I leaned my head against the back of the couch and closed my eyes. “But we don’t need to worry about anyone figuring it out because I’m going to come forward. I refuse to let Morgan face this alone.”
“That’s a horrible idea,” Mario objected.
I got up and started to pace back and forth. Shawn tried to hand me a bottle of water, but I waved him off and continued to focus on my conversation with Mario. “I’ve been in this business a long damn time. I don’t care what this’ll do to me. My career can withstand whatever comes my way.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about here; it’s Morgan.” Mario’s retort stopped me in my tracks. “You coming out as her mystery man will just add to the hysteria. The public is too aware of your stance on dating and commitments. Being outed as your first official girlfriend is going to be a big fucking deal—bigger than any other celebrity hookup, breakup, or makeup in the last decade or so.”
“Fuck,” I groaned. He made an excellent point. If we came out as a couple while I was still in Georgia, Morgan was going to be stuck handling the worst of it on her own. “Come up with a plan for who Morgan and I will give our first interview to once we come out publicly as a couple, so we’ll have a plan set when we need it. Until then, I’ll just have to figure out how I can smooth shit over for her from afar without anyone knowing I’m doing it.”
“You can count on me.”
That went without saying, or else Mario wouldn’t have been my agent for so long. As soon as we wrapped up our call, I dialed Morgan. I got lucky, and she picked up right after the first ring.
“You’ve seen the articles, haven’t you?”
“How’d you guess?” I chuckled, already feeling a little less tense just from hearing the sound of her voice. Shawn gestured toward the door, and I gave him a jerk of my chin to let him know that I’d appreciate the privacy.
“Because I wouldn’t be surprised if your agent, publicist, and Shawn all have a Google alert set on my name, so I knew you’d find out right away.” I laughed again because she was absolutely right. “Well, that and you never call me this early on a day when you’re shooting.”
“It’s a good thing that we got done a little early because Shawn was bursting at the seams to let me know what was going on. How’re you holding up?”
“Eh, I’ve had better days, but it hasn’t been totally awful. Allie went out and got me lunch from Carl’s so I haven’t needed to leave the house yet,” she explained. “I’ve been mostly ignoring my phone . . . except for you, of course.”
“Allie brought you a western bacon cheeseburger, fried zucchini, and a big fruit punch, huh?”
“See, that right there makes all the hassle worth it.” Her breathy sigh was close to how she sounded when I nibbled on the sensitive skin where her neck and shoulder met. It made my dick so damn hard that I had to adjust myself before my zipper left a permanent mark on my junk.
“What does, beautiful?”
“I really appreciate how you pay such close attention to me,” she admitted softly. “You never miss a detail when it comes to my likes and dislikes.”
“Only because I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you since we met at the Golden Globes,” I confessed.
“Even when you thought I was with Jasper?” she teased.
“Even then,” I grumbled, my lips turning down in a wry grin. “Which is why I was such a dick to you at first.”
“Well, you’ve more than made up for it since then, so don’t beat yourself up too much over it.”
Genuine people were hard to come by in Hollywood, but Morgan was the most up-front and open person I’d ever met. “And that right there is part of why you ended up with that hickey on your neck. You’re just too damn irresistible.”
“And that brings us back around to the reason you called. The stupid articles going around right now,” she huffed. “I don’t want you to worry about them too much. I can handle this. I swear.”
“I know you can, beautiful,” I reassured her. “But you shouldn’t have to.”
“Maybe not, but it’s part of the life that we lead, and you’re more than worth being harassed by the paparazzi.”
&nbs
p; Once again, she didn’t hesitate to put herself out there, strengthening my feelings for her more. “You can’t say stuff like that to me when I’m all the way across the country. It makes it harder to be far away from you.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve missed you so much since I’ve been back.”
We spent the next ten minutes talking about nothing and everything before she needed to take a call from Dane, her agent. Talking with Morgan solidified my decision. I needed to step up and do whatever it took to protect my woman.
I sent a quick text to Shawn, letting him know I was done talking to Morgan. As soon as he returned, I asked, “Can you hunt down the director and producer for me? I need to talk to them asap.”
“Sure, boss. I’ll make sure they’re here before you’re even out of your costume and makeup.” Shawn proved he was worth the ridiculous salary I paid him because he delivered on his promise in under five minutes. Five minutes after that, I did something I’d avoided in all my years as an A-lister in Hollywood—I threw my weight around to get what I wanted.
Seventeen
Morgan
“Morgan! Morgan! Who gave you the hickey?”
“Why were you in Georgia?”
“Did you and Jasper break up, or are you cheating on him?”
“C’mon, Morgan! Give us something!”
At my side, Allie muttered beneath her breath about how she hoped the four paparazzi that had virtually been camped outside of our condo development for days would get horrible diarrhea. I bit my lip to keep a straight face and kept my head down as we hurried to the limo. It was taking us from our house to the Four Seasons hotel to get ready for the Oscars.
Inside the car, I let out a long breath as I rubbed at my temples. “I can’t wait for this to just be over already. They’re relentless because they want to know who I was in Georgia to see. Hopefully, once Gage comes back and we go public, that’ll die down some.”
Allie snorted. “You can’t really think that once they find out that you’ve locked down Gage Ryan, they’ll be less interested in your private life, right?”
I frowned and stopped rubbing at my temples. “True,” I muttered, “but at least he’ll be here, and we’ll handle it together.”
Allie smiled. “More like, he’ll step in and take care of it as much as one can. I think there’s more to be said for dating an older man than just that they know their way around a bedroom.”
I stopped rubbing my temples and let out a laugh. She definitely wasn’t wrong about that.
* * *
It was a struggle not to gape like a child gaining admittance to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory as I stepped out of the limo and took in the scene before me. The dream I’d held close to my heart for years was coming true. Before me lay the five hundred infamous feet of red carpet all actors wanted to walk. What looked like a thousand people were already on it, spread out all over the place for the gauntlet of press lines and photo staging areas I needed to work before the ceremony began. From behind me, I felt Allie making sure the train of my scarlet-colored dress sat just so before I went any farther.
I glanced down to confirm that the plunging neckline of my gown hadn’t somehow come loose from the tape that kept my breasts from popping out. A relieved breath escaped when I saw that all was as it should be. I wasn’t red carpet roadkill, at least not yet. There were hundreds of feet of carpet to go, though. I knew I wouldn’t get to breathe deeply again until I was inside the Dolby Theatre. As excited as I was, I couldn’t help wishing that Gage were with me to experience it. Granted, he’d walked this particular red carpet more than a dozen times, so it wouldn’t have been a new experience for him, but having him at my side would’ve gone a long way in settling my nerves.
Forcing myself not to get lost in wanting something I couldn’t readily have, I focused on what would come next. I’d already checked and double-checked my makeup in the limo, so I knew all of that was in place. Although I’d spent hours in the suite at the Four Seasons being primped for this moment, my makeup and hair were fairly simple. A cat eye with soft eye shadow, a bit of blush, some highlighter, and an amazing red lipstick I’d been assured would last until I took it off with a special oil-based remover.
I smoothed a hand over my hair, nodding when I felt the soft curls falling just below my shoulders like they should. I’d chosen not to wear a necklace—no need with the plunging neckline. My only bling was an opal and diamond bracelet I’d borrowed from Gloria, and only after she insisted. Like every other nominated actress on the red carpet, I’d been offered Harry Winston jewels, but that wasn’t something I was interested in. The possibility of losing something so valuable would only have caused more anxiety.
I counted to three and then stepped all the way into view. As I lifted my chin, a round of applause went up from the bleachers that lined the carpet. I smiled brightly as I waved just as Dane’s assistant had instructed. Hundreds of camera flashes went off around me, preserving the moment for eternity. While I waved, Gloria got out of the limo directly behind mine and came to stand at my side. The second she came into view, the crowd—both the people in the stands and the horde of assembled reporters from around the world—went wild. They started screaming questions at us in an instant.
“Morgan! Gloria! Look over here!”
“Who are you wearing?”
“Morgan, care to tell us who your mystery man is?”
“Gloria, do you know who it is?”
Neither of us responded to those particular questions as we smiled and posed. The Oscars red carpet wasn’t known for paparazzi hounding actors, so I knew those questions would be shut down fast. In less than forty seconds, they moved—right after someone from the shows production team appeared and had a few brief words with them. After that, the questions went back to normal.
“Do either of you have speeches prepared?”
“Over here, over here!”
“Smile!”
“Do you feel lucky tonight?”
I smiled and nodded as Dane came around the back of the limo Gloria had been in and took his spot between the two of us.
“Dane! Are you nervous for Gloria?”
He smiled and waved, ignoring the question as he turned his head to me. “You good?” he asked under his breath.
I answered without moving my lips. “Yep.”
He turned away and said something to Gloria that I couldn’t hear over the noise. Dane had more than a dozen clients walking the carpet tonight, and he could have gone with any one of them. But even super agents were loyal to their moms, so he was with Gloria and me.
I was relieved to be walking the carpet with them since both knew what they were doing. Even though it was all kind of rinse, lather, repeat—going from one reporter to another so they could ask you the same series of questions (what are you wearing, did you have a hard time picking the dress, are you nervous, did you eat today, do you have a speech, etc.)—the whole thing was overwhelming. People watching would think the carpet was glamorous, but it was a lot of work. In addition to the three of us, and Allie, Gloria and Dane’s assistants were also walking ahead of us. Just behind us was the bodyguard who had been assigned to protect the fortune in Harry Winston jewels Gloria was wearing.
The only stop that was truly enjoyable came when we got to Vaughn Corbett. I was excited to do my first interview with him since he hadn’t been at the Golden Globes. Vaughn was known to be an incredible interviewer, so I was surprised that for the first thirty seconds or so after we’d walked up the stairs to his platform, he’d sputtered and had trouble focusing.
Once he got on track, he charmed Gloria and me with questions we hadn’t already heard nine thousand times. Because of this, he managed to get us to relax. This was partially due to his personality, but I’m pretty sure the glasses of champagne he provided helped.
Garrett and Shaelyn were just in front of us in the press line so they’d been able to join us for the second half of the Vaughn interview. After that, we walk
ed the rest of the carpet together and did almost a dozen more small interviews together.
Once it was all wrapped up—and after what felt like seven hundred trillion photos were taken—we were finally free to go into the theater. By the time we arrived at our front row seats, I felt like I’d run twenty miles. The four-inch heels on the Jimmy Choo Lucy embroidered lace d'Orsay shoes I was wearing felt torturous. I cursed the shoe gods and wondered, not for the first time, why heels couldn’t be as comfortable as they were beautiful. I couldn’t keep myself from imagining how great it was going to be later to put on my sweatpants and my well-worn pair of UGG slippers.
I didn’t have long to daydream about being comfortable since Allie was busy fidgeting next to me. She was normally unflappable, so her nervousness worried me.
I leaned in closer to her so we wouldn’t be overheard. “What’s up with you? You’re being weird.”
She bit her lip and blushed as she shook her head. “It . . . um . . . there are a lot of famous people around.”
I raised my brows and gave her a look of disbelief. Allie wasn’t easily impressed by fame. Even when she met Ryan Reynolds, her longtime celebrity crush, she hadn’t batted an eyelash.
“I have to let it go because the show’s about to start, but don’t think I’m not going to dig to the bottom of this later,” I whispered.
“I swear I’m fine,” she hissed. “I’m nervous for you, okay? I really think you’re going to win this thing.”
“If you say it again, I’m going to barf from nerves,” I admitted.
She didn’t get a chance to respond because we were being given the sign that the show was about to start. As it went on—and on, as award shows tended to do—I calmed down. Mostly, I just kept thinking about how much I wished Gage was sitting next to me. I knew it was driving him nuts as well. I’d talked to him a bunch earlier in the day, but then he’d gone off the grid to work, which sucked. I wouldn’t be caught dead checking my phone during the actual show, but every time it threw to commercial, I checked to see if I had a message from him. My disappointment grew each time I found no message. He’d told me he’d be watching, but with no messages coming through, I had a sinking feeling that he was stuck on set.
Gage: A Love Under the Lights Novel Page 9