by Holly O'Dell
"Eh," I shrugged. "I should get started on work"
"Good luck with your new best friend. I'll call to check in later."
I hung up the phone and watched through the doorway of my office as Miranda parted ways with Michael and gave Gwen a big hug good-bye, despite the fact that the two had presumably just met. Maybe Anna was right-this might be someone who lived up to the favorable reputation the press has provided. And she was more than nice to me, even after she found out from Michael about yesterday afternoon. What exactly did he tell her, anyway? All good things, she said. Huh. I wonder what that meant. Not that I care or anything.
44On behalf of Hotel Bella, Inc., I present the Children's Cancer Center with this check for $10,000." Turning to smile for the cameras, Devin handed the check to the surprised chair of the event. He received a standing ovation as he posed for pictures with the event co-chairs and cancer survivors with whom he shared the stage.
I leaned over to Michael, who was standing next to me in the back of the banquet room where this fundraiser was taking place. "Devin genuinely seems to enjoy being here," I murmured.
"The event isn't done yet," he said with a raised tone.
"I don't think it would hurt to cut him some slack."
Michael raised an eyebrow. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
I looked at him skeptically. "What do you mean?"
"You didn't seem to be his biggest fan as of two days ago, that's all."
Wow, working with Devin was making me testier than I realized. "Look, if we're not optimistic about the potential for this personality transformation, then others-particularly the press-could pick up on it. Besides, it's all I can do to talk myself into it, so just play along."
Michael nodded. "You're right, you're right. I apologize. I'm just a little edgy today."
"Why's that?"
"Oh, Miranda and I were up most of the night catching up" My heart leapt, but I ignored it. Why should I care that "old friends" were catching up? "She really liked you."
"Why? Was it the bad hair, the archaic outfit, or the crooked eyeglasses?"
Michael gave a half-grin. "Don't worry about it. You looked good. No, she was really sincere about doing dinner tonight. Since we couldn't go to dinner, she wants us to get together with her afterward."
I looked up at the stage, where Devin was still schmoozing. "What about him? Don't you think we should keep an eye on him after the event? I am willing to hang around if you want to do the party thing with Miranda"
"I don't think that's a good idea, the two of you alone," Michael said hastily. He must have seen the perturbed look on my face, because he recanted. "I didn't mean it like that. Since he still has that lounge lizard thing going on, I wouldn't want you to have to try to rein him in. It wouldn't be fair to you. Why don't we talk him into coming along with us? That way we can still have some fun and keep him in our sights."
Oh, yes, that's how I wanted to spend a Friday night: surrounded by an ex-boyfriend, a colleague, and a gorgeous actress.
The crowd at the fund-raiser started to dissipate. "So, did I meet your approval?" Devin winked at me and outwardly ignored Michael's presence.
"Yes. In fact, you seemed to really enjoy yourself up there"
"Whatever," Devin said flippantly. "Just get me out of this monkey suit so I can get on with my weekend."
I pulled Devin aside. "Hey, I thought that you were on board with the changes we had discussed earlier this week."
"I am. That doesn't mean I can't go out and party a little bit, does it?"
"It's this kind of attitude that is unacceptable. And by the way, it's really starting to annoy me," I said in a loud whisper.
Devin smirked and squeezed my shoulder. "Whatever you say. You're the boss." I caught Michael rolling his eyes. He stepped over to us.
"Devin, Kate and I are going to a private party, and we think you should come with us."
"Yawn." He fiddled with his cuff links. "Sounds like a lot of shuffleboard and cribbage."
"Believe it or not, it's a cast party. Miranda Hamilton will be there," Michael said nonchalantly.
Devin slowly nodded as a sly grin spread across his face. "I could do that"
"Hmph!" I said a little louder than I wanted to. Both Devin and Michael looked at me, then turned back to each other.
"You know, it's only about ten blocks from here. Want to walk with us?" Michael suggested.
"Well, I really don't want to wear this out on the town," Devin said as he looked at his suit, "but if it means getting to a hottie like Miranda Hamilton a little sooner, then yes, I'll go"
We exited the event center and headed toward the party. I purposely fell behind Devin and brought Michael with me so we could talk.
"Why did you throw Miranda out there like bait?" I asked him. "Isn't this a little counterproductive?"
"It worked, didn't it? Trust me, she won't be interested in him."
"Why? Is she seeing someone?" I tried to act casual.
"Nah, I don't think so. But I guarantee that Devin is not Miranda's type"
Lux, the bar that was hosting the party, was quintessential New York: good fashion (lots of tight-fitting shirts on both the men and the women), good music (a DJ in the middle of the dance floor spinning techno beats), great-looking people (need I say more?). The tall, midnight-blue booths and opaque tabletops were part old-school diner, part The Jetsons. From the moment I walked in, I feared that we had brought Devin into his personal Mecca, but Michael assured me that it would be fine, as long as we were on our toes. On our toes. Easy for him to say. I did not have a good feeling about the evening, and all I wanted to do was go home, put on my robe, and watch some Friday-night stand-up comedy on TV.
I had called Anna on our way to the bar to invite her along, so I kept one eye on the door and another on Devin, since Michael had left to find Miranda. Devin and I found a spot at one of bars. He bought me a gin and tonic, but I refused. "Sorry, can't drink. I'm on the clock."
"Hey, how come you never returned my message? Couldn't pry yourself off of Lover Boy?"
My jaw tightened. "Why do you care? Not that I even owe you an explanation, but he and I are as platonic as you and I are."
"Is that how you describe us, platonic?" Devin spoke methodically, as if he were doing a guest spot on a soap opera. Thankfully, I saw Anna enter the party; I had never been so excited to see her. I waved her over.
She didn't even acknowledge Devin's presence, which made me gleeful. I heard Michael shouting my name over the house music. I turned to see Miranda, wearing a black strapless minidress with black Jimmy Choos with four-inch heels, at least. Before I could even react, Miranda walked up and gave me a hug. "It's so good to see you again, Kate! You look fantastic."
Glad somebody noticed. I wore a cropped black blazer over a black and purple off-the-shoulder top, which sat right at the waistband of my black hip huggers. The outfit had been in my closet for six months, just waiting for its debut.
Miranda was starting to grow on me, if only for her ability to improve my self-esteem. "Miranda, this is my best friend, Anna. She's a makeup artist."
Miranda and Anna shook hands. "I bet we have a lot of stories between the two of us," Miranda grinned. "We'll have to swap tales later tonight. I have to make the obligatory rounds first"
Anna said nothing, just beamed. She loved the energy of the dark, loud bars, and couple that with the fact that she got to hang out with Miranda Hamilton-well, I certainly earned my friendship badge for the evening.
Miranda turned to the group. "Hey, everyone, we have a VIP room in the very back of the bar. The bouncers are expecting all of you, so you shouldn't get any flack. I'll be there in a few minutes."
Before she left, Devin stepped forward. "We haven't met yet. I'm Devin Underhill, and I must say, I am a huge fan of yours"
Miranda shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "Thanks!" was all she said. As she exited, her hips swayed as she made her way through the crowd, stopping every five s
econds to chat someone up. I could see Devin staring after her.
"Someone should give him a hankie to wipe his drool," Anna said under her breath.
"I must talk to her more" He slowly followed her, enchanted.
I quickly pivoted toward Michael. "You've created this beast, now you're going to have to tame him. I knew this wasn't a good idea."
Michael, too, looked worried, but he tried to sound composed. "I'll follow him, distract him somehow."
It was just Anna and I left. "So, should we go claim our VIP status while we have the chance?" I asked her.
"I've never been a VIP before. And to be one with Miranda Hamilton is even better. See, I told you that she was sweet!"
"Yeah, she isn't as bad as I thought," I reluctantly admitted.
The entrance to the VIP room was cloaked in a black velvety drape. The security guard pushed it aside for us, introducing three dark-blue leather couches formed in a horseshoe shape, an aquarium with exotic fish, and a glass coffee table lined with every kind of liquor imaginable. The sunshine-yellow walls were a bright (and surprising) contrast to the rest of the bar, though they were somewhat muted by the faint light coming from the green-fringed lamps.
The lounge was a peaceful oasis from the chaotic bar scene. The house music was muted, and patchouli candles gave the air a hearty, musky scent.
I looked around and saw about a dozen importantlooking people, some of whom were obvious trendsetters and probably paid to just stand there and look cool, others still in business suits. I leaned toward Anna. "Any of those people look familiar?"
She casually scanned the crowd and tapped her chin. "Hmm. I think I worked with one of those guys on a play a few months ago. I'll be right back" Within sec onds, Anna was being swept off her feet by a chiseled He-Man. While they hugged and gushed how great the other one looked, my eyes wandered around the room. Here I was, the PR woman, the one who makes things happen, cha, cha, cha, and I was all alone. How did this happen?
I begrudgingly wandered back into the bar, pretending that I was important, or at least looking for someone important. Then Michael appeared about six inches from my face.
"Hi," he smiled. "Having fun?"
"Sure, until I was left all alone in the VIP room" I stuck out my lower lip and quivered mockingly.
"There, there," Michael patted my shoulder. "Devin ran to get a drink, so I'm just keeping my eye out for him." He scanned the crowd. "Man, I just cannot relate to him."
I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I've tried to make conversation, and his eyes keep wandering to the next woman who walks past. He doesn't listen, doesn't have much of an attention span. He's like a five-year-old"
"And he wonders why we have to `publicly babysit' him," I bemoaned. "I was just on my way to the ladies' room, so I'll send him your way if I see him."
I made my way through the throes of people crowding the dance floor. At the edge, about 20 feet ahead of me, I saw Devin grabbing an unsuspecting Miranda by her waist as she walked by.
He stood about a foot taller than she, even in her heels. He leaned over to say something in her ear, and she smiled and dismissed herself. But he wasn't giving up. He whispered something again in her ear, and she laughed politely. She looked like she was trying to get away, but even Miranda Hamilton might have gotten caught up in Devin Underhill's charisma.
I frantically looked behind me for Michael, hoping he might be witnessing this, but he was out of sight. I started to march over to the pair to pull them apart when something even more severe caught my eye. Randall Steck, a pencil-necked tabloid photographer privy to many moments of celebrities behaving badly, was gearing up to take a shot of Devin and Miranda. Sure, it was obvious that she didn't want to be here, but the cameras are unforgiving; it only takes a second or two of any sort of intimate contact, and poof, you're in tomorrow's rags. This was the last thing I needed to happen. I hustled to Randall and tapped him on the shoulder. He ignored me. So I stepped in front of his camera. "Hey, lady, get out of my way!" he sneered.
"Randall," I said pleadingly.
He slowly moved his camera to the side and looked at me quizzically. "Do I know you?"
"Probably not, but I know you, or at least of you, and I am begging you not to take this picture."
"Sure, I'll just close up shop and tell my boss that some dame told me I couldn't take my photos, so I just left."
Dame? Well, at least I wasn't a broad. He set up his shot again, but I didn't budge. "Look, you need to get out of my way," he nearly howled.
I began chewing on my lower lip. Think, Brown, think. Time slowed as my head turned from Devin, who was on the verge of going in for a kiss with Miranda, to the photographer. Just as I saw Randall about to make that fateful click, I stepped behind Devin and Miranda, squeezed in between them, threw my arms around their shoulders, and offered my best, broadest grin at the moment the flash lit up the room.
Randall shook his head in disgust at the missed photo op and sauntered to another area of the party.
Devin and Miranda both stepped back. He stared at me, while she stepped aside. "Care to explain that one, Kate?" Devin's arms were tightly folded across his chest.
"Remember that meeting a few days ago where we talked about this very thing? There was a tabloid photographer over there. So the only thing I could think of doing was showing up in the picture with you and Miranda since it wouldn't be of any value to the papers with me in it."
"So, it bothered you that much that I was dancing with someone else, huh?" Devin's lips snarled into a mocking grin.
"Let's see, I could keep my job, or I could get jealous of a boy behaving badly."
Devin looked at me and could only muster a weak shake of his head. He disappeared into the crowd, and I turned to where Miranda was standing, and she, too, had disappeared. Maybe they were heading to his townhouse, and then the AP would pick up on this sordid affair, and I would be out of a career. No, no, I mustn't think like that. I've been in situations where my girlfriends and I have been trapped at bars talking to men we don't want to be talking to, and we've all had that look that Miranda had.
I sucked in my breath and marched through the bar hoping to find Anna, or even Michael. But I kept one eye open for Devin, too, just in case he didn't make it past the front door. I wandered back to the VIP room, where I saw Anna, Michael, and Miranda laughing and sharing stories. I motioned for Michael to come chat with me.
"Don't worry, he caught a cab home," Michael said.
"How did you know I-"
"Miranda told me about the situation on the dance floor. She found me, and I found him. He said he was tired and was just going home"
"You believed him?" I panicked.
"My guess is that it was a matter of pride, so it was better for him to just leave. Trust me, it's a guy thing."
Miranda and Anna had joined us. "Look, Kate, Michael filled me in on this Devin situation, and I am so sorry for doing anything to jeopardize your work."
"Don't worry, you're not the one at fault here. I saw the whole thing happen. And I'm sorry for, um, interrupting the photo op"
Miranda threw back her luscious blond mane and laughed heartily. "Are you kidding? Thank you for doing that! Devin seems okay, but I just am not into guys who are so forward like that. You know, the ones who try too hard?" She hooked her arm through Michael's and beamed at him.
I looked away, trying to hide my surprise. Maybe they were an item after all, but really, it wasn't any of my business, I assured myself. And despite her best intentions, Miranda was a wild card. Sure, she was nice, even sincere, but my big concern was to get Devin on the straight and narrow, and Miranda Hamilton was a major distraction. I just needed to find a way to approach the subject ever-so-delicately with Michael.
``Can I come in?" I had tapped on Michael's office door and waited in the doorframe.
"Sure. I was just going to stop in your office to discuss our schedule with Devin. Between the fund-raisers for the
youth groups and the charity golf tournaments next month, all his free time will be controlled by us"
"Well, that's part of what I wanted to discuss with you. Some of it has to do with the other night at Lux."
Michael raised his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah, pretty crazy, huh? I'd say we-really, you-were pretty successful, seeing that Devin went home alone in a cab."
I pursed my lips and shifted them to the side. This was going to be harder than I thought. "There's more," I blurted.
Michael's phone rang. "Sorry, I should take this. Hold on a moment" He picked up the receiver. "Michael Korten" Pause. "Hey, M. Can I call you back? I'm in a meeting right now." He paused again. "Yeah, she's right here" Another pause. "Sure, I'll tell her."
M ... as in Miranda. And they were talking about me. No need to be paranoid, right? Right?
Michael put the phone in his cradle and gave me a smirk. "I think someone is taken with you."
"Eh?"
"That was Miranda, and she wants to take you out to dinner to make up for that whole photography mishap with Devin the other night. She thinks you're pretty cool and can't stop talking about you."
I furrowed my brow. "Hmm, a female celebrity is taken with me"
Michael laughed. "No, she just thinks you're so real, and she doesn't get that in Hollywood all that much. Kind of makes her miss the old days."
"She barely knows me."
"Nah, I've known her practically my whole life, and she has a good read on people."
Great. Childhood sweethearts. Old friends, I reminded myself. They probably made a cheesy pact when they were 21 that if they were still single at age 35, they'd marry each other. At the very least, maybe she'd ask me to be a bridesmaid.
I checked back into the present. "Well, I'm pretty busy with work and all, so I don't know if dinner will work anytime soon."
"How about tonight? She and I already had plans to go out after she wraps her shoot for the day."
I shook my head and gave a halfhearted smile. "Hey, Korten, did you not hear me? I'm busy."
"On a Tuesday night? Come on. It'll be fun. There's nothing planned for Devin tonight. Might as well enjoy the time away from him while we've got it. What else have you got going on?"
