I gave myself another once-over and nodded, my bare face and messy bun making it look a little out of place. “This is better.”
“It’s perfect. Now please, read the rest of the etiquette post while you let them get started on hair and makeup. You’re going to be late, and that will probably upset Noah more than a white dress would have.”
She quickly helped me change back into my floral robe and ushered me into the bathroom where my hair and makeup artists waited. They had spread out their gear on the twenty feet of counter space, and a director’s chair with my name on it had been placed squarely in front of the mirror.
As I got settled, I eyed the exercise bike in the workout room across the hall. I wondered if my dad had a hand in getting me into this suite, expecting me to use that bike to work off whatever delicious food I’d get to indulge in later. I brushed the thought away as quickly as it arrived. This was the only suite available that had as many rooms as we’d need for our purposes, and I was sure the exercise room had been there before I’d been the one to book the room. Still, I’d probably go on their website and make sure of it, just in case.
Two hours later, thanks to the blog for military spouses, I was ready to go and feeling confident in my ability to impress Noah and his friends with my amazing ball etiquette. I’d learned that the birthday ball was mandatory for all Marines, unlike the other branches of the service. This told me they took their special day very seriously.
I learned the event would start with a cocktail hour, followed by a ceremony honoring the commandant of the Marine Corps, who according to the blog was a four-star general appointed by the president to lead the Marine Corps for a four-year term. All around the country, each ball would feature a celebratory video message from the commandant and the sergeant major of the Marine Corps. There was a strict policy of no talking or texting during the video. It seemed obvious, but I chuckled as I thought of the younger stars in Hollywood who needed to be told not to talk or text during speeches at the Oscars, too.
Next, a guest of honor would wow the crowd with a motivational speech that would surely end with many Marines calling out battle cries and banging their fists on their tables. I figured they were likely a few drinks in by this point, so it made sense they’d get a little rowdy in the spirit of their birthday.
I couldn’t wait to see everything I’d read about in the article, and my fingers itched with excitement as the clock ticked closer and closer to the time Noah was supposed to arrive at my hotel suite.
The suite. My eyes darted around the expansive space. Was the room too much? The four-bedroom presidential suite at Mandalay Bay clocked in at over five thousand square feet, with floor-to-ceiling windows along the entire wall that faced the Strip. The glittering lights of Vegas gave the room a warm and magical glow. I was a sucker for a good view, no matter where I stayed, and this was definitely one I wouldn’t forget.
In the center of the living room, rising high above the plush seating area, was a positively massive chandelier with golden strands of light hanging down. The other focal point, second only to the chandelier, was an opulent staircase that cascaded into the room in a waterfall of gold and steel. The carpet had an abstract pattern that almost reminded me of an animal print. The entire room had an understated old-Vegas animal vibe going on, and I liked the way they’d made it look classy instead of trashy.
“You ready?” Molly asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you sure we should have him come here to get me? Shouldn’t we just meet him downstairs?”
Molly made a face. “I mean, he’s probably already on his way. Saying anything now might be weird. Why?”
I held my hand out. “The room is a bit much.”
She snorted. “The room? You mean the huge house they built within the hotel?”
I rolled my eyes and snickered. After being together for so many years, Molly knew she could joke with me. She came from a normal, suburban family just like I had, so if a joke needed to be made about the life we lived now, she made it. But we honestly hadn’t needed to in several years. There hadn’t been a reason to. It had just slowly become more and more normal for us to stay in the biggest rooms or take a private helicopter to a meeting. Things were changing. I could feel it.
“Paige,” Molly said, stepping forward, “I told you to go to the ball with Noah so you could take him off the pedestal you had him on. I hoped you’d see him as just a regular guy, nothing special, nothing to keep hanging onto. Remember?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“So just because he’s a regular guy, don’t let his presence in your life rock the boat, okay? You’re happy with your life. Other than the show—which we’re trying to fix with this plan, right?—you’re happy.”
I turned to face the view of the Strip. There was no way I’d get this view paired with the room behind me if I wasn’t who I was. I should be grateful for it. I pictured the regular hotel rooms below us that Noah probably shared with a friend. Two queen beds, a desk, a bathroom, and maybe a chaise lounge in the corner if they were lucky. This was totally better, and nothing to feel bad about. So then, why did I feel weird bringing him up here?
I rolled my shoulders and straightened my back. I’d worked hard for eight years to get where I was, and I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. This thing with Noah would be over by tomorrow. Molly was right. I shouldn’t let him make me feel bad about the way I live my life just because he’d wanted nothing to do with it all those years ago. He’d made his choice, and I’d made mine. Now we were living two completely different lives, neither one better than the other, just different. Besides, this whole thing was supposed to help me go even further in my career. I needed to focus on that and leave all the rest.
“He just got out of the elevator,” Molly said from behind me.
My heart instantly picked up speed. “Okay.”
Moments later, Molly opened the door with one last nod at me. I took a steadying breath, then all the air whooshed from my lungs as the sight of Noah West in his dress blues almost knocked me off my feet. Literally.
He stepped into the room, his square shoulders filling out the iconic black uniform perfectly. The shiny gold buttons down the center ran between sets of ribbons and medals on either side, none of which had any meaning to me exactly, but seeing them grouped together gave me the impression he’d accomplished a lot in his eight years as a Marine.
My eyes traveled down the blue pants with the famous red stripe to his shiny black shoes. When I made it back up to meet his gaze, he was staring back at me and my carefully chosen Valentino with just as much appreciation in his eyes as I likely couldn’t keep from mine.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“Good evening, Noah,” Molly said, closing the door behind him.
“Molly,” he replied with a nod, noticing her for the first time. “Good to see you again.”
“You too,” she said. She tilted her head at the seating area in the living room. “If you wouldn’t mind having a seat for a moment, I have some paperwork for you to fill out.”
Alarm bells went off in my head. “Molly. Come on.”
She made a clicking noise with her mouth, and her eyes looked genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry, Paige. Your dad insisted.”
“What kind of paperwork?” Noah asked, sitting on the couch and leaning forward as Molly laid a document on the coffee table in front of him.
“Just a simple nondisclosure agreement.” Molly handed Noah a pen, which he took and set down next to the paper while he read it. “You’ll see that it’s just so we can make sure we protect Paige from any personal or confidential information getting out that she doesn’t wish to share.”
I stared daggers at my assistant and motioned for her to step aside with me. “You’ve really gone over to the dark side with this one, Molly.”
Knowing me the way she did, Molly wasn’t offended. “I know, I know. But just because you and Noah have history doesn’t
exclude him from getting the same treatment as everyone else.”
Before I could answer, Noah approached with the paperwork in hand. “Here you go.”
Molly shot me a sympathetic look, took the papers and pen from Noah, and excused herself from the room.
“Thank you,” I said when she was gone. “I’m really sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. That’s what I get for taking a celebrity to the ball. I’m sure the guy who took Kim K a few years ago had to do the same thing.”
He was probably right. It really was standard procedure. “True. Well, I appreciate it.”
“I know this isn’t a real date,” he said, lowering his voice slightly as he stepped close, “but if it were, is that how it would start?”
I pursed my lips. “I really want to say no, but yes. For the last five or six years now. There was this one time when I went out with a guy I met through a friend, and he sold details of our date to the highest bidder. An ironclad NDA has been part of my dating life ever since.”
Recognition dawned on his face. “That’s right. The spaghetti and meatballs story.”
“You heard about that?”
He shrugged. “I mean, I grocery shop. It was on the front page of the gossip rag. I wondered if it was true.”
“It was half true,” I explained, my cheeks warming as the embarrassment over the whole thing came back to me. “We went to an Italian restaurant for dinner, and I had a fitting the next day for an event. I didn’t really even want to go to the event, so I might have been a little defiant when I ordered the spaghetti and meatballs. By the time the food came, I’d let my guilt get the better of me and I asked the server to take it back and bring me a salad. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but I didn’t want to hear my dad give me crap for being bloated on the day of a fitting because I’d gone out and had pasta the night before.”
Noah tilted his head back and laughed. “So high-maintenance.”
“I know.”
“And the guy told the tabloids you took one look at it and waved it away, saying it looked terrible.”
“I was actually really apologetic and said it looked and smelled amazing.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you have to worry about that kind of thing.”
I shrugged. “Small price to pay, right?”
He shrugged back, then looked around the huge living room of my suite. “This place is insane. I didn’t know they had such big rooms inside the hotel like this. I definitely wouldn’t have found it if security hadn’t brought me up here.”
“It’s good for privacy.”
When he chuckled, the reflection of the Vegas Strip out the window making the twinkle in his eye even brighter. “I’ll say.”
“Would you like a tour?”
His lip twitched slightly, but he shook his head slightly and hooked his thumb toward the door. “The cocktail hour starts soon, so we should probably head down. Gotta get that social media blitz of you hanging out with all these Marines started, right?”
“Right,” I replied, grabbing my clutch from the coffee table. It had been a silly thought, anyway. Of course Noah wouldn’t want a tour, he didn’t care about fancy things and never had.
I wouldn’t describe myself as overly materialistic, but I used to love watching the home improvement channel when they’d show amazing homes in Hawaii or other tropical locations and dream of one day being able to afford to stay wherever I wanted. Clothes or jewelry didn’t do much for me, but traveling in style and living in a gorgeous home? Absolutely. I was willing to splurge on my surroundings. I looked around with a sigh, realizing that was probably because I often chose to stay inside rather than venturing out to malls or other public places unless I had to.
“You ready?” he asked, holding out his arm for me to take.
Though I stepped forward and placed my hand in the crook of his elbow without missing a beat, the question of whether or not I was ready still wasn’t clear. This night could change everything for me. If Sandra McCarthy saw me socializing with the Marines on their birthday, would she really decide I’d be right for her movie just because her son happened to be a Marine? Would it really give me that big of a leg up on my competition? Or was this the worst plan in history?
One of the hotel’s security guards led us through side hallways rather than taking the more public route to the ballroom where the event was being held. We walked in silence, Noah’s face stoic. I’d give a whole season’s worth of salary to know what he was thinking.
He was doing me a favor. That was it. But he’d asked me to the ball last year because he wanted me to be his date. If I’d said yes, I’d have been on his arm, just like this, perhaps still with an NDA, but without a career-benefiting reason. Anxiety swirled within me.
Noah nudged me with his elbow. “You okay?”
I fixed him with a wide smile, slipping it on as easily as any mask. “Of course. Just getting ready for the show.”
“The show?”
“Public Paige,” I explained. “It feels like I’m putting on a show.”
“Gotcha.”
“Does anyone know I’m coming?”
“I told some of my friends, but they’re not really the type to go blast it to the papers or anything.”
“Okay,” I said, smiling. It was always easier on my system to enter a room quietly and blend in with the crowd until someone recognized me, rather than the doors opening to a waiting crowd and camera flashes.
I steeled myself. It was always a little overwhelming at first, no matter how long I’d been doing it. Thankfully, it usually calmed down after a little while. People just needed to get used to me being there. It was like they thought they’d only get one chance to see me before I disappeared into thin air. Once it clicked that I was there for the rest of the night just like they were, they’d chill out.
Noah stared at me, and I could tell he was watching me mentally prepare myself to enter the room. “It seems exhausting to be you.”
“It kind of is,” I said. “But it’s fun, too.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from saying more. The next words out of my mouth were about to be an invitation to come to LA and see what my world was like for a weekend. But that wouldn’t make sense. This wasn’t the start of something long-term. This was one night. One photo op. One tactic to get the movie role that would change my career. Nothing more.
We rounded a corner, and the security guard placed his hand on the door. “Are you ready, Ms. Walker?”
I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
He opened the door, and we slipped into the large foyer in front of the ballroom. The walls were a light gold and the ceilings high; the warm lighting gave everyone an ethereal glow as they milled about with their appetizers and drinks in hand.
The dozens of Marines in their uniforms were a sight all by themselves. The women on their arms wore long gowns in varying colors that coordinated with their dress blues. Red, blue, and black were the most popular color choices, and I was instantly grateful to blend in with my crimson gown. Yes, it was Valentino, so while most of these dresses probably cost a small fraction of mine, it didn’t matter much. Labels only mattered to people who cared about them. A pretty dress was a pretty dress.
Noah led me farther into the room, gesturing discreetly to a group of couples in a loose circle. “Those are my friends. Let’s head over there, and I’ll introduce you.”
We made our way to the group and not a single person gave me a second look. No one expected a celebrity to show up, and everyone was so glammed up that they just assumed I belonged. It was a freeing feeling, and with every step we took where I remained anonymous, I felt lighter.
“Hey, guys,” Noah said to his friends. “This is Paige.”
I had to give them credit. The group did an amazing job keeping their faces casual despite the obvious shock in their eyes. I smiled my most down-to-earth smile. “Hi, everyone.”
They all said their hellos, and Noah introd
uced them to me by going around the circle. “This is Hawk—er, Spencer Hawkins and his wife, Ellie.”
“And baby no-name,” Hawk said, pointing at Ellie’s flat stomach.
“Only because you keep shooting down all of my favorite names,” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose at him.
“Only because your favorite names are all from two centuries ago and I hate them,” Hawk retorted, mimicking her expression and making me laugh.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, “and congrats.”
“Thanks,” Ellie said. “It’s early, so thankfully we have months to settle the name debate.”
“We’ll need years,” Hawk teased.
“Anyway,” Noah said, pointing to the next couple. “This is Owen, or O’Malley as we call him, and his girlfriend, Rachel. They’re the ones who let us buy their extra ticket.”
“Ah, thank you so much for that, I really appreciate it,” I told them.
O’Malley stuck out his hand for me to shake. “No problem. Vegas is probably a little much for a kid, anyway.”
Noah moved on to the last couple. “And this is Mills—or Matt—and Olivia.”
“Nice to meet you both,” I said, returning their handshakes and smiles.
The group chatted about the dinner options and compared the menu for this year to balls they’d attended in the past. I could tell they were trying to have a natural conversation and bring me into it, and it was fun to relate with them about our mutual love of bread dipped in oil and seasonings. I may not always get to indulge in such things, but when I did, I loved it. Something told me I’d be able to get away with having two dinner rolls with no judgment from this crowd, as opposed to the obsessed-with-maintaining-your-figure celebrities I dined with at work events.
“Can I get you a drink?” Noah asked, his breath tickling my ear as he leaned in close to whisper.
I peered over his shoulder at the long line for the bar. “I’ll come with you.”
“We’ll be right back,” he said to the group. “Anyone need anything?”
Adored by You: A Sweet, Celebrity, Military Romance (San Diego Marines Book 7) Page 4
