Not a Fairy Tale: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance

by Romy Sommer

  The party hadn’t yet reached that kick-off-the-shoes-in-abandon phase that happened when celebrities partied together, relaxed in the safety of their own numbers and the absence of fans and hangers-on, but it was headed that way.

  No matter which way she turned she saw stars. Actors, actresses, musicians, and singers, supermodels and fashion designers, directors and powerhouse producers. People who were desperate to be loved and admired, people who’d reached the top and who would do anything to stay there. Every single one of them famous and all of them driven. She belonged here and she’d do absolutely anything to stay a part of it.

  She caught the eye of an actress she’d worked with a few years ago. The other actress blew her a kiss and Nina waved back. “Bitch,” she muttered under her breath.

  Dominic leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I don’t think that kiss was meant for you.”

  “You and Jordan?” she asked in disbelief. Ugh. She thought he had more class than that.

  “Most adventurous eight hours of my life. Come to think of it, it was probably while the two of you were playing sisters on that TV show.” His grin widened. “Though that was before she started on the botox. I don’t have many standards, but I don’t do botoxed women. Now don’t frown at me like that. There’s a camera headed this way.”

  She smiled as if her life depended on it. The urge to hit or throw something was back in full force.

  “Would you like your picture taken?” the photographer asked, waving his camera at them.

  She and Dominic did the cheek-press, smiling straight into the camera. It was practically an art in this town, but the soft rumble of Dominic’s mocking laugh vibrated through her, spoiling the effect. As the photographer moved on to the next group, she stepped on his foot, not hard enough to inflict pain but hard enough to let him know she didn’t enjoy being laughed at. Or reminded that, if the rumors were true, he’d bedded half this town. The entire female half, with the exception of her.

  Dom only laughed louder. “Don’t take it so seriously. That picture will never see the light of day. When they’re sifting through the images to upload they’re going to ask ‘who’s this nobody with Nina Alexander?’ and hit delete.”

  He didn’t sound the least perturbed. But then what little she’d seen of him, Dominic was a man so confident in his own skin he didn’t give a damn what others thought. She wished she knew how that felt. She’d spent a lifetime faking confidence.

  Dom’s gaze shifted to the stage. “Your new boyfriend really does like the limelight.”

  She looked, just in time to see Paul take the microphone from the band’s lead singer. He tapped the mic and a few heads turned. The hum of voices dropped as more and more heads turned at the unexpected interruption.

  “Hi everyone, are you enjoying the party?”

  The crowd murmured its confused assent. They were here to mingle, to see and be seen. Speeches weren’t part of the program.

  “I’m Paul de Angelo.” As if he needed to tell them who he was. “I apologize for interrupting the party, but please bear with me. Would Nina Alexander please join me up here?”

  What?!

  As Paul looked out over the assembled guests, searching for her, Nina frantically looked for the nearest exit. The anxious knot in her stomach pulled suffocatingly tight.

  But there was no hope of escape. The people around her turned and looked, and the crowd’s buzz started again, nearly drowning out the sudden buzz in her head. Then Chrissie was beside her, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward. “Get up there!” Chrissie hissed through impossibly white teeth.

  Nina cast a desperate glance back at Dom, who suddenly seemed like an anchor in a tumultuous sea, solid and strong. Then he was swallowed up in the crowd as Chrissie propelled her forward.

  On either side of her, people nodded and smiled and greeted her. It was almost like the walk winners did up onto the stage at the Dolby Theatre. Almost.

  She couldn’t see their faces or hear their words. The sound between her ears had become a maniacal trill and the anxious presentiment she’d felt earlier sky-rocketed all the way from a knot in her stomach to throw-up territory.

  She’d only felt this way once before in her life and that hadn’t ended well.

  She reached the stage and Paul leaned forward, extending his hand to help her take the giant step up. Though her body had turned numb, she took his hand and he pulled. She’d dreamed of this night since she was nine, imagined the graceful glide up to the stage on Oscar night in a hundred different ways. This wasn’t how she’d pictured it at all.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, but Paul only smiled as he turned back to their audience. “As you all know, Nina was up for Best Supporting Actress tonight, but didn’t win.”

  Great, thanks for rubbing that in.

  He raised his champagne glass to the winner, still cradling her golden statuette. “By the way, congratulations, Jen.” The crowd laughed. “But I’m hoping I can turn the night around for Nina.”

  Paul set down his champagne glass and got down on one knee.

  Her heart crashed to a stop. Far from numb now, her entire body burned. He wasn’t really doing this? Not here, not now?

  It was romantic. It was so, so stupid.

  He took a black velvet box out of his pocket and held it out before him. “Will you marry me?”

  An aaah whispered through their audience, rising in pitch to an oooh as he opened the box and the most enormous diamond ring Nina had ever seen caught the light.

  This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t be doing this. Black spots clouded her vision but there was nothing to grab onto, no one to hold onto.

  She liked Paul, but she didn’t want to marry him. Marriage wasn’t part of her big plan. Where she came from marriage was a lifelong commitment and she wasn’t ready to give up the single life yet – if ever – and certainly not for someone she barely knew.

  Paul was the longest relationship she’d ever had and they’d only met a few months ago.

  But neither could she reject Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor, the man most women in this town – in this country – would kill to be with. Not here. Not now.

  If she turned him down in front of everyone she’d be branded a heartless bitch. And that wasn’t going to help her win the ultimate in peer awards any time soon.

  The silence stretched, the audience growing restless, starting to murmur.

  She could say yes and accept another wave of fake congratulations and then tomorrow she could call it off…

  Tension etched lines around Paul’s pin-up blue eyes. “You really know how to make a man beg,” he joked.

  The crowd tittered, but there was tension in that sound, too.

  Paul could take her career places she hadn’t even begun to imagine. They could be Hollywood’s new power couple, the new Brangelina.

  On the other hand, she might spend the best years of her life as Mrs. de Angelo, always in the shadow of her more-famous husband – and then find herself out on her ass, replaced by a younger model as soon as her prime was over.

  A prime spent with a man whose idea of fun in the bedroom amounted to keeping the light on.

  She had to make up her mind.

  Saying “yes” now didn’t have to mean forever. Perhaps just until she got the “part of all parts.” Who could it hurt?

  She opened her mouth to speak and heard Gran’s voice in her head. Whatever you do in that place, girl, you just remember where you came from. You work hard, you hold your head high, and you don’t ever compromise who you are.

  She shook her head.

  “What?” Paul obviously hadn’t intended the word to be magnified around the room. It bounced off the walls as people began to cough and snigger.

  But their embarrassment had nothing on Nina’s. This was it. This was the end of everything. Turns out she wasn’t prepared to do ‘absolutely anything’ after all.

  Marriage for the sake of her career was one of them. Even a fake
engagement. It was up there with sleeping her way into a job. Gran would tan her hide if she said yes.

  “No.”

  This time Paul did speak for the microphone. “You’re such a joker.”

  “I don’t want to marry you, Paul. I don’t want to marry anyone.”

  He stared at her.

  She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t think I’m the marrying kind.”

  She didn’t need a microphone for her words to carry. They seemed to take on a life of their own, echoing around the vast room.

  The moment hung, suspended in time, as she looked into Paul’s eyes and he looked into hers. Then his eyes narrowed, wiping away the disbelief, and the tsunami crashed in upon them.

  “Do you know who I am?” he demanded. Then he rose, snapping the black box shut and jamming it into the pocket of his tux. He thrust the microphone back at the band’s lead singer and jumped down from the stage. Fury radiated off him and the whispering crowd parted before him, people stepping back into one another in their haste to give him space.

  “You said she’d say yes,” Paul flung at Chrissie as he strode past.

  The words sliced through Nina. This was the story Chrissie had promised the sub-editor? Who was she working for anyway?

  The music began again, normal conversation resumed, but still Nina stood frozen on the stage. She knew what every one of them would be talking about. Who.

  This wasn’t good.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  She had to get out of here.

  She jumped off the stage, no one to help her down now, and the hem of her couture ball gown snagged on the edge of the stage. The fabric ripped, a long, drawn-out sound, but she didn’t care.

  “What the hell did you just do?” It was Chrissie, face pale beneath her flawless Californian tan.

  “You knew he was going to propose in front of everyone?” Nina took refuge in anger.

  “Of course. We had it all planned out. This was supposed to be your big moment. And you just throw it away? How could you be so stupid?”

  “You should have warned me!” Because then Nina would never have left the Governors’ Ball for this after-party. She’d still be back at the Dolby Theatre and her career and her reputation would still be intact. She would never have had to make such a terrifying decision in front of everyone.

  Tears burned her eyes. She blinked them away. Crying now would only make it worse. What if her make-up ran? But she was tired and over-wrought from what had already been a very long evening, and it took huge effort.

  She had to get out of here.

  The only exit she knew was the same one she’d entered through, the entrance onto Sunset Boulevard where she’d have to run the gauntlet of half the world’s media.

  Yet more cameras.

  She couldn’t trust herself to hold it together for the length of that walk. She couldn’t trust herself to hold it together long enough to make it across the room.

  “We have to get her out of here.”

  Thank heavens. A voice of reason. Relief swamped her as she faced her agent.

  It was short-lived.

  “Hold up your dress. You’re baring your butt to the world.” Dane grimaced as he gathered up a handful of ripped silk and thrust it at her. “Couldn’t you have worn a sexy thong at least?”

  The unshed tears burned all the way to her throat. How long had her supportive granny pants been on display to the entire room? And was Martin Scorsese looking straight at her?

  “Would it have killed you to say yes?” Dane continued through gritted teeth. He didn’t even look at her. His gaze scoured the room, searching for a way out, just as she had done. “We’ll say you’re not well. You haven’t been well all week. You didn’t know what you were saying.” He turned to face her at last, giving up hope of a quiet exit. “I’m very disappointed in you. What were you thinking? Paul’s a powerful man in this business. He has a lot of influence, and you humiliated him in public. You can kiss Sonia goodbye now.”

  A scalding tear slipped over her fake lashes and down her cheek. These were her friends, her support group. How could they turn on her like this?

  “Maybe the press outside won’t have got wind of this yet?” Dane said hopefully.

  The look Chrissie sent him answered that one quickly enough.

  “I’ll get her out of here. I know a back exit.”

  All three of them turned to look at Dominic. The relief in the faces of her agent and publicist would have been insulting if she hadn’t felt the same.

  Dominic grinned. “We’re going to walk out of here as if we don’t have a care in the world. You can manage that much, can’t you sweetheart?”

  Nina nodded. The tears had stopped their insistent push against her eyelids. She already felt calmer. If she wasn’t still so aware of the sea of eyes all around, she would have leaned into him.

  “Do it,” he said, holding her gaze, daring her. His eyes sparkled. They were an unusual color. Mesmerizing. Like dark emeralds flecked with gold. He placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him.

  How had he known what she was thinking? She breathed in the scent of the wild sea, simultaneously frightening and exhilarating, and gave in. She leaned into him.

  “That’s it. You’re an actress, so act. Now just follow my lead.”

  His cheeky grin was back in place. She managed a weak one of her own. “You’re enjoying this,” she meant it to sound accusing, but the words came out more curious.

  “Of course I am. You just rescued me from dying of boredom.” He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Besides, the look on your minder’s face was all the reward I needed.”

  Of course. The note she’d caught in Chrissie’s tone had been intended to warn him that he didn’t stand a chance with Nina. Instead, she was leaving the party with him.

  She stifled a hysterical giggle.

  Dominic took her free hand and led her through the crowd, not towards the kitchens or a service entrance, as she’d hoped, but straight toward their host. She prayed he knew what he was doing.

  It wasn’t easy walking with one hand clasped behind her back, holding her gaping dress together, but she kept her chin up and she smiled. Not the furious, bright smile of before. She aimed more for a Mona Lisa effect now. It was about as much as she could manage.

  Though people looked at them as they passed, with expressions ranging from sympathetic to curious to gleeful, no one stopped them to talk until they stood before the editor-in-chief of Vanity Fair himself, Graydon Carter. Satirical journalist, media mogul, social arbiter and celebrity in his own right.

  Nina had never said more than two words to him in her life.

  Graydon turned at their approach, smiling. “Leaving so soon, Dom?”

  Dom grinned and shrugged. “You know how it is – I have a thing for damsels in distress. Thanks for another great dinner, and we’ll talk about that canoeing trip soon.”

  Had Dominic been invited to the dinner and viewing party earlier in the night? Those tickets were gold. You practically had to be in Graydon Carter’s inner circle to be invited.

  She did a rapid recalculation of this ‘lowly’ stunt man.

  “I look forward to it.” Graydon’s eyes twinkled as he shook Dom’s hand. “There’s certainly never a dull moment with you around.” He glanced down to where Nina clutched her torn gown together, then summoned over a minion with an all-access security pass around his neck. “Ms. Alexander has had a wardrobe malfunction. Please take them out the private exit.” Then he turned to Nina. “Thank you.”

  She tried to sound as cool and amused as he did. “My pleasure. But what for?”

  Graydon’s grin reached ear to ear. “For providing me with the headline story for our webpage tomorrow.”

  She wished she hadn’t asked.

  The tuxedoed minion led them through the dining area, where the most privileged guests had sat for dinner, to an exit she hadn’t known exis
ted.

  “Shall I call the valet to bring your car around, Mr. Kelly?” the minion asked Dom.

  “No need. I’m parked right outside.”

  The minion frowned. Nina only just managed to stop her own frown from wrinkling her forehead. When she’d arrived there’d been a mile-long traffic jam and police everywhere. No one could have parked within walking distance of this place.

  They passed two security checkpoints before they reached the exit to the back end of the Sunset Plaza parking lot and the minion left them. Nina dropped Dom’s hand and breathed in the cool night air. There were no fancy black Escalades parked out here, just vans and other working vehicles.

  “What now?” she asked. “Are you going to sneak me out in a delivery van, or do you have a magical flying carpet stashed out here?”

  Dom grinned. “As good as. How precious is that dress of yours?”

  She glanced down to assess the damage and groaned. “I think it’s past saving.”

  “Good.” He kneeled down and with a quick rip tore the remaining skirt off her dress.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, trying to stop him. But she was too late. What had once been a slinky, scarlet, floor-length evening gown was now the length of a cocktail dress. A very short cocktail dress, with an uneven hemline that barely covered the granny pants.

  Shit. Her PA was going to have to be very inventive to explain these new modifications to the designer.

  He handed the torn expanse of fabric to her, then removed his jacket. “Cover yourself with this.” He helped her into the jacket, then placed his hand on her lower back to guide her between the cars.

  To a motorbike.

  No, not just any motorbike. A KTM offroad bike, with fiery orange paintwork and gleaming chrome. Not exactly subtle, but it was close and wouldn’t get stuck in the traffic jam out front. Nina nearly wept with relief.

  A quick escape was worth the loss of one couture ball gown.

  “Where do you want to go?” he asked, handing her the helmet hooked over the handle- bars.