by Saba Kapur
“Hi,” Milo said loudly, over the sounds of excitement and anticipation. We were almost at the entrance now, partially sheltered from the cameras that were now focused on the new arrivals.
“Hi.”
Milo looked me up and down. “Wow,” he said. “You look incredible! That dress! It’s . . . wow.”
See! That’s all I wanted, Jack. A little appreciation for my hotness once in a while wouldn’t kill you!
“Thanks,” I replied, almost certain I was blushing. “You look great too.”
Milo looked down at his uniform with a smile. “Yeah, it’s custom made LAPD. I think the silk is Italian.”
I gave a short laugh at his joke, playing along with an impressed look. It could have been silk from Compton for all I cared. If the end result was that, it was value for the money.
“So how are you holding up?” he asked, his dimples disappearing from view.
How was I holding up? Gee, let me think about that one for a second. I was standing in one of the most beautiful gowns I’d ever seen, the world seemed to be dying to know every detail about my life and there was a great chance Clooney was in the vicinity. Oh, and I wasn’t able to enjoy any of that because somewhere in the sea of unfamiliar faces was a potentially violent lunatic who was intent on getting revenge for reasons that were still a mystery to me. How was I holding up, you ask?
“Great!” I lied. “Fabulous. Fantastic.”
“Are you sure?” Milo asked uncertainly. “You look a little nervous.”
“I’m a tad nervous. Tiny amount. Miniscule, really.”
“That’s understandable,” Milo said with a nod. “But we’ve got a lot of people watching out for you tonight. Plus, you’re killing it on the red carpet, so you’ve got nothing to worry about on that front.”
I gave an embarrassed laugh, as if the idea of fame suddenly seemed ridiculously over-the-top. “The cameras are blinding me! I think they might have done some serious retinal damage.”
“Quick!” Milo said, holding up two fingers in the shape of a peace sign. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“That’s a tough one. Five?”
“Close! Seven.”
We both laughed as he lowered his hand to his side, hoping it would buy us some time to evaluate our next move. Jack seemed to have made that decision for me when he came up beside me.
“Gia,” was all he said.
“Jack,” Milo greeted him with no emotion in his voice. “Nice tux.”
Jack’s lips curved up into a smirk as he gave a nod of acknowledgement. “Gia,” he said. “Carol wants to see you. Something about you taking photos with Dylan.”
“Right now?” I asked, giving him a disappointed look.
“Like, yesterday now.”
There was a girl standing a foot away, dressed in a wine colored evening gown that was definitely off the rack. She had a clipboard in her hand, and fear in her eyes, nodding at me intensely as if confirming the urgency of Carol’s request. Goddammit Carol! I was having a moment!
“Don’t worry about it, “Milo said in response to my apologetic look. “I have to go anyway. I’ve got to sort out some security stuff.”
“Right,” I said. “I’ve got to go get shot. By photographers, I mean! Like, with cameras. Not the guns.”
Oh good God. Apparently I could speak to James Franco just fine, but any more than thirty seconds with Milo would cause my brain to stop functioning.
“Stay safe,” he said, suppressing a smile as he walked away.
“Shut up!” I groaned, watching Milo get swallowed by the crowd.
“Are you talking to yourself or talking to me?”
“Both.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“It was a pre-emptive shut up.”
I looked at the smug smile on Jack’s face. “Get shot?” he said, not bothering to stifle a laugh. “You wanna talk about what’s happening in your subconscious?”
“No, but you’re going to be unconscious in about two seconds if you’re not careful.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” he said sincerely, “I never freeze up around hot girls.”
I put my hands on my hips. “How exactly is that meant to make me feel better?”
“Oh, no wait. You’re right. That’s meant to make me feel better.”
“Miss Winters.” The woman with the clipboard said, looking more fearful by the minute. “I really need you to come with me. Carol says we’re already behind schedule.”
“Well good luck,” Jack said, patting me comfortingly on the back. “Be brave.”
“Good luck?” I repeated. “You’re my bodyguard! You have to protect me in case Carol throws a stiletto at my face!”
Jack shook his head, taking two steps away from me as if I were about to bite him. “Oh I’ll be there, but strictly as an observer,” he said seriously. “No one takes on Carol’s forehead vein and lives to tell the tale.”
Yeah, well, only the brave get pay checks.
__________
With barely ten minutes before the ceremony was going to start, my heart decided it was a good time to completely fail. The heavy breathing was no longer working, and I was about a million percent sure the nerves weren’t because I got to hand famous people trophies on stage. It was bad enough that I kept forgetting which direction of the stage I was supposed to lead the winners off, my anxiety attacks weren’t exactly helping. My parents had come to visit me backstage, wishing me luck and telling me how excited they were. They were clearly as tense as I was, but we didn’t even hint at the possibility of anything going wrong. We did what normal Hollywood families do and swept our problems under the rug for as long as we could get away with it.
Backstage was packed with people, finalizing last minute details and shining the globes on the awards. I was in the same room as Hugh Jackman and all I could think about was stupid Frank Parker and his psycho revenge mission. We had heard nothing from him the entire day, and I was secretly hoping he had forgotten, or he was just bored and decided to move to Botswana. Both were highly unlikely, but I kept praying anyway.
“Gia,” Jack said softly, but I jumped anyway.
“Oh my God, don’t sneak up behind me like that!” I cried, whacking his arm.
Jack rested his hands on my shoulders and looked me square in the eyes. “You need to calm down.”
“I am ca—”
“No you’re not!” he replied, cutting me off. “Listen to me Gia, you are going to be fine. You’ve got Milo, Detective Reynolds and a bunch cops looking out for you. There’s security everywhere, and Agent Walker has eyes all over the place. Besides, I’m right here for you.”
“Yeah but you can’t come on stage with me!” I argued. “What are you supposed to do if he comes jumping out of nowhere and grabs me?”
Jack looked around carefully, his hands still on my shoulder. “Not that I think that’ll happen, but I’ve got a gun,” he whispered.
“You’ve got a gun?” I cried, and Jack slapped a hand over my mouth.
“Will you shut up?” he hissed, removing his hand from my lips.
“Ugh, you ruined my lip-gloss! What are you doing with a gun!”
“It’s licensed, Gia! I’m a bodyguard, remember?”
I dropped my gaze to his waist. “Can I see it?”
Jack gave me a look like I was insane and said, “I thought you hated guns! They make you queasy?”
“Yeah, I’m terrified. But I’ve always kind of wanted to see one someday.”
“Well today is not going to be that day.”
“FIVE MINUTES!” Someone from the crew yelled and everyone suddenly went into fast forward mode, bustling around backstage.
Close behind Jack was a man who looked exactly like Gerard Butler. My heart rate picked up.
�
��Oooo, is that—”
“Gia, not right now!” Jack said. “I don’t need you any more hyped up than you already are. Just do some more heavy breathing.”
“Jack!” I cried, trying not to hit him. “I’m fine, okay? I’m just freaking out a little! It’s perfectly normal! If I do anymore heavy breathing people are going to get me an oxygen tank.”
“Don’t you think I’m freaking out too? Jon Hamm is standing less than two yards behind me, and I have a huge man-crush on Don Draper!”
“Oh why didn’t you say so? He’s a family friend, I can totally introduce you.”
Jack’s eyes rounded in disbelief. “You’ve known me like, two months, and you choose now to tell me this?”
“Hey! I’ve offered to introduce you to other people!”
“Actually,” he said, giving me a knowing look. “You haven’t. I mean, even your dad invited me to lunch with Cliff Richards.”
“Who?”
I did some frustrated sighing and waited for Jack to get his I can’t believe you don’t know who Cliff Richards is, that man is a legend look off his face. It’s not like I didn’t know who he was, I just really didn’t care. Like, at all. A woman dressed in the all black uniform of the backstage staff stopped abruptly as she was passing by.
“Excuse me,” she said, looking at Jack uncertainly. “Are you authorized to be backst—”
“Yes! For the millionth time, yes! I am authorized to be backstage! This is the sixth time I’ve been asked that question. What, do I need a visitors pass or something?”
She gave me a fleeting look, and then cut her eyes back to a now very annoyed Jack.
“I’m sorry,” she said curtly, looking more frazzled than apologetic as she walked off.
“Anyway!” Jack said, shaking his head in frustration. “I know you’re nervous and this whole thing kind of sucks. But like I said before, we’ve got you covered. It’s just a waiting game now.”
I knew he was right, and I did feel bad that I was acting like a hyped-up maniac. But the waiting was the worst part. As much as I was counting on the Botswana plan, I was also just hoping the whole thing would be short and sweet. Dr. D would appear and the police would slap cuffs on him. The end. Bye forever.
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be,” I said slowly, letting an idea form in my mind.
“What?”
“What if we drew him out?”
“Wait, what?” Jack repeated.
“Jack,” I said impatiently, excitement rising in my voice. “We’ll just dangle me in front of him so he appears and then bam! You do your thing, the cops can arrest him and this whole thing ends!”
Jack blinked and took a deep breath. “Okay, firstly no,” he said. “Secondly, hell no.”
“Why not?”
“We can’t just dangle you! You’re on stage with over half of Hollywood’s biggest stars. How much more dangling can we possibly do?”
“Yeah bu—”
“Plus,” Jack continued. “We can’t even reach Frank! We can’t trace any calls to him, we have no location, and only he contacts us!”
“Okay, bu—”
“Which he hasn’t done so far. Which means he could be anywhere. Doing anything!”
“Jack, listen to me!” I hissed, before he could cut me off again. I lowered my voice as Seth Meyers walked by. “Alright fine, so I don’t really have the specific details. But this could work if you help me!”
Jack slapped his hand across his eyes and groaned. “How is this going to work Gia? You have no specific details. What do you want to do, huh? Go on stage, grab the mic and politely ask for Frank Parker to raise his hand?”
I scowled. “No! Wait, why? You think that would work?”
“No!”
“Look, everyone is expecting me to come on stage, right? What if I just don’t come on stage? It’ll throw Frank off his game!”
“I think you’re forgetting that Frank was planning his grand finale for today even before you became Miss Golden Globe,” Jack reminded me. “So, personally I don’t think his plan involves you being on stage. And even if it does, there’s no guarantee it’ll change anything if you just decide to not show up! Besides, if you screw up the stage plan now, Carol is guaranteed to throw a chair at you and I won’t be able to save you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted. “Why can’t you just be helpful for once?”
Here I was, trying to help us all out of a sticky situation, and Jack was doing nothing to show me he appreciated my efforts. So what if it was just the base of an idea. All buildings need foundations!
“JUST OVER TWO MINUTES,” I heard someone yell, and I knew Carol would be going crazy if she couldn’t find me.
“Not helpful?” Jack echoed my words. “I’m out here dealing with your stupid suggestions and trying to calm you down so you don’t break down on stage! I’m practically keeping you upright! And I’m not helpful?”
“Instead of yelling at me,” I told him, “you could be helping me with my plan. So that this whole thing is just over and done with!”
“There is no plan!” Jack cried, and we looked around as people started to take notice of our fight. Jack lowered his voice and said, “Gia, we’re not discussing this anymore. Stick to the actual plan.”
“I bet if I told Milo he would be a lot more understanding,” I said under my breath, but loud enough for Jack to hear.
Jack scoffed. “Yeah of course he would. Officer Perfect would high-five you, and then give you a gold star for coming up with the world’s dumbest idea!”
“You know what?” I said, shaking my head in disbelief at Jack’s audacity. “He probably would! Because he’s a nice guy. You should try it sometime! Maybe I will go tell Milo!”
“You have about a minute before the ceremony starts,” Jack said, starting to look amused. “By all means, go find Prince Charming and let him in on your mission impossible.”
Okay he had a point. There was no way I had time.
“Well maybe I’ll just text him then!” I told Jack haughtily. “I left my phone on one of these tables, but the moment I find it I’ll just message him my brilliant idea.”
Maybe I’d even add some emojis just to really get under Jack’s skin.
He laughed. “Yeah,” he said, feigning encouragement. “You do that.”
“Gia!” A male voice called from behind me. “We need you over here. We’ve got about ten minutes before your entrance!”
“Coming!” I yelled back, but I stayed where I was. “Whatever, Jack. I’m not just going to sit here and do nothing. I’m ready to end it right now! And if you don’t want to help me then I’ll do it alone.”
I lifted up the hem of my dress once more, spun on my heel and stalked off toward Dylan. I had taken all but two steps when Jack had caught me by the elbow and yanked me toward him.
“Gia,” Jack said sternly, no longer laughing. “I’m not kidding. Agent Walker was very clear. Just act normally and wait it out. You’re not building on this stupid idea of yours, okay? I forbid you.”
I pulled my elbow out of his grasp and gave him an incredulous look. “Oh, I’m sorry Dad, you forbid me? I already have two parents, Jack. I don’t need another one.”
I was ready to walk off again but Jack caught me by the arm once more.
“That’s funny,” he said, even though he was dead serious. “Because it kind of seems like you do! You never want to listen to anything anyone else says! You’re so damn stubborn, and it’s really starting to piss me off!”
I glared at him so intensely, I was scared I had done some damage to my eye. He was calling me stubborn? If the whole world wasn’t falling over themselves to give Jack what he wanted, the way he wanted, he was unhappy. I wasn’t the one with the problem here! He had been looking for a way out ever since he walked into the house that first night,
and had been all too obliged to keep reminding me how much of an inconvenience I was to him. If he was so pained to be around me, he could leave whenever he wanted. I wasn’t exactly dead bolting the door shut.
“You’re fired,” I snapped, yanking my arm away.
“What?”
“You’re fired!”
“Nice try,” Jack said, looking unimpressed. “But you can’t fire me, remember? I work for—”
“My dad?” I finished. “Guess what? I don’t give a damn! Whatever this is, our deal, our friendship. It’s over, okay?”
“ONE MINUTE TO GO!”
“No!” Jack exclaimed angrily, over the increasing chatter of backstage. “No, not okay! If you do anything in your immaturity, it’s on me! I’m responsible for keeping you safe. So if you get killed, your boyfriend comes for my throat first!”
I was so furious; I thought I might just slap him. So if I died the only thing he would care about is saving his own ass. That hurt like a bitch. Of course it might have had something to do with that fact that deep down, a teeny tiny part of me had some feelings for Jack, which is messed up, I know. It’s the hair! Nobody is immune. But he apparently didn’t share that teeny tiny feeling because he was emotionally trampling all over my face with his shiny black shoes.
“Don’t worry, Jack,” I said, giving him a humorless smile. “If I die tonight, no one’s coming for you. You can just buy yourself an alibi. We both know you have the funds to do it.”
Jack looked at me, stunned, and I felt a minute of pleasure for catching him off guard. “What did you say?”
I took a step closer to Jack, lowering my voice so only he could hear me. “Why would a person devote their career to protecting stuck-up rich kids, when they have a trust fund full of millions lying in the bank?”
“How do you know about that?” Jack asked, his expression growing more aggressive by the second.
“Does it matter how I know, or that I know?”
Jack and I glared at each other in angry silence for a few seconds, before I stalked off, just as the sound of applause from the audience hit backstage. Alright. So maybe I overdid it a little. I may have gone a little soap opera on him there with my dramatic whispering. And yeah, maybe it was a bit dumb of me to bring up his trust fund. Clearly it was a touchy topic. But he was being a jerk face, so he deserved it. Besides, why was he so determined to stop me from straying from the original plan? I was beginning to highly doubt that it was to keep me safe. It sounded more like he was following a plan of his own, and I was getting in the way of that. Could Milo be right? Could Jack have something to do with Frank Parker?
