by Lucy Gage
Em laughed. “I love it. This is going to be fun. So, does this mean I get to give you crap about how long you're taking in the bathroom tonight?”
“Watch it,” he teased, “or you won't get any more later.”
“Oh, don't pretend you'd cut me off. You aren't the type to cut off your nose to spite your face. You're too pretty for that,” she teased.
He pretended to be sad. “I thought I was hot?”
Em gave him the smile that said she loved him. “You are, honey. You're the most beautiful man I know. Inside and out.”
He smiled back, the smile that had made her fall for him. Reggie scolded, “Stop smiling. I'm glad to see you're happy, Rob, but you're making my job harder and you're already on my shit list for skipping your routine. Save the googly eyes for later. Close your eyes and stop talking.”
Em chuckled and stared at him, thinking how lucky she was that he was hers. Even if he was going to be wearing more makeup than her.
When Rob's turn was done, it was Emily's time in the chair. Reggie sighed in relief. “Your skin is amazing. This is going to be a cake walk. Christopher said we're going bold except the lips.”
“That's what he told me. He wants attention focused on my eyes.”
“Can't say I blame him, those eyes are stunners. And your dress is about the same shade, right?” Reggie asked as she swiped cleanser on Em's face.
“It is. Wait til you see it. I thought the last two dresses he put me in were amazing, but this is gorgeous.”
“So, you're walking the carpet with him?”
“Yes. I'm nervous about it, but I need to get used to it, I guess. I can't hide forever.”
“Expecting to be around a while?” Reggie asked. It was asked in a friendly way, not as if she thought Emily was nuts to think she'd be around after tonight.
“That's the plan at this point. It's what we both want. As long as that's true, then I'll be around.”
“Got any long-term plans?”
“Like what? Getting my fifteen minutes?”
Reggie was surprised. “No. I didn't mean it like that. You don't seem to care much about that stuff. I was thinking more along the lines of a white dress and a church.”
Emily blushed. “Oh. Sorry. No, um, we're not really at that point yet. We've only been together for a few weeks. We haven't made too many plans beyond going to Sundance. I've got a lot of work commitments for my new job.”
“Well, I'll see you there, then.”
“Do you usually travel with Christopher?”
“Not always. I've got other jobs around here. But Rob asked for me to be at the premiere. I'm quicker and better at making him look like he's not wearing makeup than the other guy Christopher uses. When he's going to be in the spotlight, he needs more makeup and doesn't want to look like he's wearing it. Can I tell you a secret?” Em nodded. “Over Christmas, I got set up to work in New York. I've worked with Michael Haddington before and he wants me to come work on this play he's starring in off-Broadway. I'm pretty sure it's a go. I won't know for another week or so. Sundance might be my last job for Christopher and for Rob.”
“Working on Broadway a big dream of yours?” Reggie nodded. “Well, I hope you get it, then. Even though I love how you don't bow to Rob. He hates it when people kiss his ass.”
“He does. I'd say you know him pretty well already. There. You're done. Mick will do your hair. I'll be at the show to touch up his makeup before he goes on stage, so if you need anything, let me know. Here's the lipstick you're wearing,” she handed a tube of the pale pink lipstick. “You should be all set, but if you need a touch up after eating, use this. Just don't be too liberal. Good luck. And if I don't see you before, I'll see you at Sundance.”
“Thanks. You will.”
Next up was Mick, a tall, slender, botoxed man with jet black hair who drooled over Emily's curls. He sculpted her hair into an elegant pile near the nape of her neck with a straightened piece swept across her forehead, somehow pinned so that it wasn't noticeable.
It was finally time for putting on her dress, which meant that the event was drawing near. Emily got nervous again, so she played a game in her head to change her focus. She named all the Masters in the Italian Renaissance from Giotto to Caravaggio. It calmed her enough that she felt like she could get ready.
This time she was wearing flesh-toned lace panties and nothing else under the dress. Her dress was a pale blue, nearly the color of her eyes, with a rhinestone-encrusted halter neckline that emphasized and lifted her cleavage. It was backless and fitted to her hips, where the organza skirt flowed outward. There was a slit up the left thigh again and the skirt went to the floor. On her feet this time were silver shoes that looked similar to the black ones she'd worn at the gala. She knew she was getting some serious bling – no diamond studs and tennis bracelets this time – Christopher had said it was diamond and sapphire chandelier earrings and a diamond and sapphire wrist cuff. Her 'purse' was a tiny silver thing that was barely big enough to hold her lipstick.
As she took off her robe to put on her dress, Rob walked into the room. He looked for a second like he might pass out. He shook his head to clear it.
“I guess I'll tell them to wait for a few minutes to bring the jewelry back.”
“Unless you want them seeing Emily's boobies, I'd say that's a good idea. You know you're supposed to wait until she's done. Get out of here. I'll call you when she's ready,” Christopher instructed without looking at him. She gave Rob a half-smile. Rob's look said he wanted to stay, but he listened.
“Usually, he's pretty good at listening. Though, to be fair to him, I suppose he's more excited to see your lady bits than he would be his mother or sister's, so it's no wonder he came into the room before he was called.”
Christopher lifted her boobs into her dress and positioned them perfectly. He had placed some pasties on her nipples and then used double-sided tape to hold the sides of her dress in place. “Shoes,” he barked and a minion appeared with the silver stilettos. Christopher placed them on her feet and her legs felt miles long. He adjusted here and there, and a minute later, he said, “Okay, you can come back in, now.”
Rob walked into the living room and stopped short. “Wow,” he breathed. He looked pretty wow himself, wearing a single-button Versace tux with a bow tie. He turned his head just enough to call back over his shoulder, but his eyes didn't leave Emily. “Come on back,” he said.
The jeweler brought over the cases and Christopher put the earrings and bracelet on her. “Perfect,” he said. “I expect you to be on a best-dressed list. You look even more fabulous than I expected. Give us a twirl.”
She had been doing this long enough for him that apparently, she knew the right speed to twirl because he didn't even have to tell her to slow down this time. As she spun around, she could hear Rob gasp. When she faced him again, she said, “You like?”
He nodded. “Oh, I like. I like so much that I don't think you should walk the carpet with me. Everyone will look at you and want you and I don't want to share.”
“I'll take that as a compliment, then. And I'll assume you're not serious about me skipping the walk down the carpet.”
“Sort of. I guess I said I wanted everyone to know that this smokin' hot woman was mine. You can't have it both ways, right? They can't know you're mine if they don't look at you. You've outdone yourself, Christopher. Don't tell Amy, but she's never looked this good.”
“I won't tell her if you don't.” He winked. “You were born to walk a carpet, Emily. You're Gorgeous with a capital G. Now, let's get you two on the road.” Christopher turned to Rob, then. “No messing up her makeup until after the show, Rob. Don't think I didn't see that look on your face earlier that said you wanted to take her to bed. I know lust when I see it. Keep your hands and lips to yourself until later. I'll be mad if she doesn't make a best-dressed list because you couldn't control your libido.”
They both blushed. “Oh, please,” Christopher said, waving his hand,
“As if the whole world can't see that you two want to be naked together all the time. Just wait to stick your tongue down her throat until after the show, at least. Reggie will be waiting for you backstage before you go on. I'll see you at Sundance, Emily. Rob, I'll see you before the studio party next week.” He gave them both air kisses, said, “Tah!” and shouted “Tear down!” as he walked out the door. In five minutes, the minions righted the room and were gone.
Rob grabbed Emily's hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “You are...” he took a breath, “you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. I didn't think you could be more stunning than you were at the gala, but you are. How did I get so lucky?”
“Oh, stop. I'm not that special. This is mostly Christopher, Reggie and Mick's handiwork.”
“No. No, it's you. That's all artificial stuff. You're glowing. You are so radiant right now. I still can't believe you're mine.”
“Well, believe it. Because in just a short time, my clammy hand is going to be holding yours as I have a panic attack on live TV.”
“You'll be fine. Just block it out like you did at the gala carpet. It's not all that different. They mostly want to talk to me and they want to talk about the movie. I have to warn you, Rachel will be sitting at our table. Her husband was a producer on the film. He was mostly a financial backer, but he gets credit so he gets to be there and I heard the other day that they're going. You okay with that?”
“I am. I'm not intimidated by her. Besides, you're mine now. And like Christopher said, I think anyone who looks at us together can tell how hot we are for each other. You look pretty smokin' yourself, by the way. I think I might have a hard time keeping my hands and lips to myself, too.”
“Stop talking like that or I won't be able to think of England and I'll be the one embarrassed on live TV.”
Emily laughed. “You always make me laugh. Tell me jokes while we're out there and I might just be okay.”
“I'll do my best.” He took her hand and they went out to the limo, toward the insanity of the awards show and her first official red carpet.
The walk down the red carpet was both easier and harder than Em thought it would be. It wasn't dark outside yet, so it was less distracting than it had been the night of the gala because the lights weren't as noticeable.
But there were so many more people, both reporters and spectators. She had no idea how Rob knew who he was supposed to acknowledge and who he could ignore. Em just walked along, smiling because Rob made jokes for her and then gave her the megawatt grin when she relaxed a little. Each time he sensed she was getting anxious, he distracted her. A few reporters asked her questions and she ignored the rude or intrusive ones.
By the time they got all the way through the insanity, she was ready to sit down for a while. Standing around for a long time in stilettos would be an adjustment. Rob spotted Rachel and brought Emily over to meet her so that she would know someone else at their table who wasn't required to do interviews. Though, he said, Rachel often did them anyway just to get more face time.
As they walked up to Rachel, Emily trailed behind Rob, holding his hand. She could only assume that Rachel didn't notice her at first, because the woman looked very excited to see Rob. “Deac!” she purred as she reached for him and tried to kiss him. He turned so she got his cheek instead and when he pulled away before she could hug him, she noticed that his hand wasn't free. Her expression changed instantly.
“Well. Who's this? The latest ingenue from your last movie?”
“Rachel Eames-Wilson, this is Emily Ward. My girlfriend. And, no, she isn't an actress. We met in Minneapolis over the holidays. She's a writer.”
“Oh? Script writer? Didn't know you were slumming it these days, Deac.” It was said with a smile, a wink and an undercurrent of malice.
Emily spoke up. “No, actually, I write for a magazine.”
“Oh? Which tabloid?” She looked at Rob. “I didn't know you bothered with them, Deac.”
Rob began to answer and Em interjected, “Actually, it's an arts publication. Rob and I met just before the gala and exhibit opening my magazine sponsored at the Walker Art Museum. Are you familiar with Fluxus?” Emily asked, but before Rachel could answer, she said, “Oh, no. Of course you're not. Why would you be interested in anything that subverts your expectations? That was a silly question. Forgive me.”
Rachel appeared to struggle to maintain her composure and to avoid flaring her nostrils. “Of course. I'm not really interested in art. It's so bourgeois now.”
Emily laughed. “I guess it's a good thing Rob is with me and not you, then, since we both like art so much and you don't.”
“To each her own, right? I'm too busy with my career to worry about that sort of thing, I guess. But you're not, are you, Deac?”
“Actually, Rachel, I've been working almost non-stop for the past three years. It felt like it was time to take a break and spend the holidays with my family.”
“Oh? Your sister too busy to come tonight? Is that why you had to scrounge a date from that art thing?”
Emily waved her off. “Oh, you misunderstood. We didn't meet at the Walker. We were already dating before that. We just attended the events as a family. Actually, Rob and I were together before I went home with him for Christmas. Amy and Anja were both happy to stay home tonight and watch the show on TV. And I can't imagine not being here to support Rob. That's what you do when you love someone.”
She looked at him with the smile that said she loved him. He returned her smile with his own, the grin that had made Emily fall in love with him. For a moment, she forgot where they were. She leaned toward him and kissed him gently. Rob sighed happily. He squeezed her hand. Em hadn't said I love you, but she had said she loved him to someone outside their immediate circle. It was progress.
They were lost in each other's eyes for a moment, when Rachel's voice rudely intruded.
“Yes, well, isn't that lovely? Did you want something, Deac? Or were you just introducing me to your...girlfriend?”
“I was hoping you could keep Emily company while I'm doing interviews. You know, since we're sitting at the same table and you're such a veteran of this type of thing.”
Rachel winced a little at the word veteran, but she plastered a smile on her face anyway. “Yes. Of course. Emily, why don't you come with me and I'll show you where everything is. We'll see you inside, Deac.”
Rob leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I love you.”
Emily smiled. “Ditto,” she whispered in return. It got the smile she hoped it would. He squeezed her hand, kissed her gently and walked toward a group of reporters.
Em turned to Rachel. “After you.”
“Age before beauty,” Rachel quipped.
Emily laughed. “Well, then you're definitely first.”
Rachel acquiesced and Emily followed her. “I would have thought you were older than me,” she said.
“Oh? And why is that?”
“You just look so much more mature than his last girlfriend.” Lola, who was actually only a few years younger than Em. “How old did you say you were?”
Emily laughed again. “Old enough to know better than to answer that question. I have an MFA in Art History. If you can figure out how old I should be, you'll be in the ballpark.”
Rachel gestured to where Emily could see restroom doors. “Those are the closest restrooms to where we're sitting.” She saw someone she knew and cooed, “Harvey! So good to see you!” The man came over to them and kissed Rachel's cheek. They spoke for a couple of minutes as Emily stood by patiently.
“So, Rachel, who is your friend?” the man asked, looking at Emily appreciatively.
“Oh, this is Deac's latest girlfriend. Emma, was it?” Rachel asked, looking at Emily.
Emily smiled and looked at the stranger, sticking out her hand. “Emily Ward.”
“Harvey Rosen. Nice to meet you, Emily. What was your last picture?”
“Oh, I'm not an actress. I'm a wr
iter for Art Wurks.”
“Really? You should be. You're gorgeous.”
Emily laughed. “Ask Rob, I'd make a horrible actress. I'm completely incapable of faking my emotions. WYSIWYG.”
“What's wizzy wig?” Rachel asked, confused.
Harvey laughed. “What you see is what you get. I like you, Emily. You're funny. Beauty and brains. Rob is a lucky man. And a man can't complain about a woman who can't fake it.”
Emily laughed again. “I'll take that as a compliment. I'm sure he'd agree with you. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Rosen.”
“Please, call me Harvey. I'm sure I'll see you inside. We're sitting at the table next to you. We helped produce Shattered Glass. Are you and Rob attending the party after?”
“I'm not sure. He said we had parties to attend, but the details don't mean much to me.”
“Well, if he's not planning to come, I'll be disappointed. I'd love to talk with you more. If you'll excuse me, I need to speak with someone from ET. Rachel.” He nodded to Rachel, smiled at Emily and walked away.
Rachel was obviously perturbed at Emily for highjacking her conversation. “Let's continue, shall we?” she said, clearly annoyed, with slightly flared nostrils and pursed lips. It wasn't her best look. “If you need to go backstage – though, I can't fathom why you would – that's the entrance.”
Reggie appeared at the stage entrance, and when she saw Emily, she called to her. “Emily! You made it!” She had changed into a little black dress and cute flats.
Emily laughed. “I did. No fainting or even sweaty palms.”
“Oh, good. Your makeup still looks flawless. I guess that means he kept his hands to himself after I left?”
“Probably only because Christopher threatened to kick his butt if I didn't end up on a best-dressed list because he couldn't keep his hands off me.”
Reggie laughed. “He didn't come in before you were dressed, did he?” Emily smiled wider. “Ha! Did Christopher yell at him?”
