Stand-In Star

by Rachael Johns

  “You were fabulous,” he whispered to her, inhaling her magnificent summer-rose scent.

  She blinked and pursed her perfectly red lips. “You think?”

  “I know.”

  “It’s all so surreal.” She touched the holly leaf he’d given her as if seeking comfort. “I feel like at any moment someone is going to pinch me and I’m going to wake up from this ni—dream.”

  He chuckled. “You were going to say nightmare.”

  She blew out air between her lips which lifted a couple of strands of hair off her face, and nodded sheepishly. He loved that about her. Where most women would sell their souls to be here tonight, and happily own the fame, it made her uncomfortable.

  Because Holly was real.

  She thought about real world issues. She cared what was happening in the world, not just on the catwalk or the big screen. She cared about people and culture more than she cared about her appearance. She was feisty and fun, in bed and out. She couldn’t care less about money and status but she could speak for hours on end about the things that were important to her. And she didn’t mind him talking about his passion either. She actually thought it interesting—really interesting—that he liked photographing sunsets over bridges.

  He found himself day-dreaming about taking her to some of his favorite bridges.

  Hold up a second. What was this crazy thinking about the future? She’d be gone tomorrow and that was the way it should be. He gave himself a mental slap to the side of his head.

  He’d proven in his teens he couldn’t be relied on for anything other than monetary assistance. Daisy’s death had reconfirmed this. But Holly didn’t need money…she needed commitment. She was a forever type of girl.

  “Thanks for coming with me,” she said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I really appreciate it.”

  They’d come to a standstill on the carpet as ushers directed guests to their seats.

  “I wanted to be here,” he answered, realizing it to be the truth. He wanted to share this evening with her—to be beside her if she needed support, to share her memories of Daisy. “Daisy was a good friend. This feels right.”

  Holly barely nodded. Her lips were pressed tightly together and he could tell she was struggling to hold back her tears. “She would have wanted you here.”

  Before he could answer, they were hustled from behind. “Nathaniel Devlin, you old devil.” He turned as a palm jovially met his back. The palm belonged to a guy he’d briefly gone to school with.

  “James.” He offered his hand in a shake, recalling the man’s ambition to direct movies. “Heard you’d finally made it.”

  James beamed. “Yep. My film’s up for five different awards. Never give up on your dreams.” He turned his attentions to Holly. Nate saw his old friend’s eyes light up in appreciation. He couldn’t stop the tensing of his muscles. “So, you’re the gorgeous girl putting up with Nate at the moment?”

  Holly blushed and opened her mouth. No words came.

  Nate pulled her to his side. “This is Daisy McCartney’s sister. She’s staying with me.”

  “Man, I’m sorry.” The gleam left James’ eyes. “For both of you. I heard you two were close, Nate. Such a loss.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Thank you,” said Holly.

  After that they were swamped. As they made their way to their seats, Holly gripped the program she’d promised to keep for Stella. So many people stopped to offer Holly their condolences and she accepted every kind word with a poise and grace that made Nate proud. But he could see her emotion wavering. When they reached their allocated seats, she all but collapsed onto the plush velvet upholstery. He squeezed her hand to show his support but the smile she gave back wasn’t heartfelt.

  They’d made it down the red carpet without incident and into their seats, which, because Daisy was a nominee, were on the edge of one of the aisles very near the front of the massive building. Holly had barely stopped gaping at the huge ceilings, glittery lights and impressive decor since they’d entered and now she looked like she might faint. He was glad she’d have a few moments to collect herself before Daisy’s award category was announced. Best Supporting Actress was up first, but this year a well known comic actor was host and he’d be sure to want a few laughs from the crowd before the show really got underway.

  Still, seats were filling quickly around them and the clock was ticking to the official opening. Nate would bet his house on the fact Daisy would win her category. He only hoped Holly would cope when she had to get up on the stage and accept on her sister’s behalf.

  Before long the lights dimmed as dramatic music filled the air. Limelights flashed across the ornately decorated stage, a hush fell over the celebrity crowd as a deep voice penetrated, welcoming all and sundry to this year’s Academy Awards.

  Holly gripped his hand. He looked to see her staring at him, terror evident in every corner of her face. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  God, he hoped not.

  He reached around and pressed his hand against her back, rubbing like his mother had done long, long ago when it had only been him and her and already they’d been hiding from his father. “You won’t be sick,” he whispered back. “You’re strong. You’re amazing.”

  She bit her lip and looked back to the action happening center stage. The host made a dramatic cart-wheeled entrance and then did a little bow before welcoming everyone and saying how honored they were to have him here tonight when he could have been shining his shoes. Everyone laughed at that and continued through his opening speech which mocked some of the actors and actresses up for Awards in a fun, light-hearted and not at all offensive manner. Even Holly seemed to relax slightly, leaning back into the plush chair.

  Until the host introduced the presenter for the Best Supporting Actress category. Then, her grip on his hand tightened to vice-like. She looked at him, searching. He shot back the warmest smile he could and took her hand in both of his. Together they sat, near frozen, as last year’s Best Supporting Actor ran through the list of nominees.

  A past Oscar winner’s face flashed on the big screens in front of them as her fifth nomination was read out. Her film was a period drama that had blown records at the box office. He believed it to be the film James had produced. Next up was a newer face, her first film in fact. And then there was Daisy—sandwiched in the middle of the other five nominees.

  Her shining smile appeared on the screens. His heart hitched a beat as a shot of deep regret stabbed it. He missed Daisy…but he missed her friendship far more than he missed their farce of a relationship. If only he’d driven her that night…

  He glanced back at Holly. Would he miss her too? Discarding that thought he noticed her cheeks were already moist from the silent tears drifting down them. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a hanky. Not usually one to carry such things, he’d pre-empted the need for it tonight. Without a word, he slipped it between their hands.

  She sniffed, let go of his grip and lifted the white cotton up to pat her cheeks.

  On stage a gold envelope was lifted, the red seal opened. “And the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress goes to…”

  Silence fell over the theater. You could almost hear the synchronized stop of heart beats.

  “Daisy McCartney.”

  Shivers ran through Nate’s body and happy relief hit. Cheers and applause filled the theatre as the crowd stood to show their respect to their deceased colleague. Instinctively he turned to Holly, swamped her in a celebratory hug and pulled her to a standing position.

  “That’s your cue,” he said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. “She did it.”

  Joy swam in Holly’s eyes. She blinked and nodded demurely. Then, she stepped past him, lifted her chin high and smiled as she made her way down the aisle—accepting hugs from the cast and crew of Daisy’s film—and onto the stage where her face now shone on the screen alongside her sister’s.

  “Due to Ms. McCartney’s tragic pass
ing earlier this year, Holly McCartney, Daisy’s sister will accept this award,” the presenter announced.

  Nate watched her, pride swelling again at what she was doing, at how far she’d come in the last week. She looked damn beautiful, even from behind. Especially from behind. He sucked in a breath and shifted in his seat as he gazed at her pert butt so perfectly encased in Bec’s fitted creation. His tux trousers felt tight around his thighs but he knew he was wearing the right size. As Holly accepted a hug from the award presenter and took the microphone, all he could think about was getting her home to bed and making the most of their last night together.

  How the hell he was going to get through the rest of the Awards without exploding, he had no clue.

  * * *

  Clinging to a rather heavy, gold statue—the kind she’d only ever dreamed of seeing on the television—Holly’s heart stammered as she looked at the sea of faces before her and tried to remember the speech she’d penned in odd moments over the last few weeks. Sure, she’d spoken in rather large lecture theatres before but right now she felt like a mouse facing a pride of lions.

  This should have been Daisy’s night. Daisy’s statue. Daisy’s glory.

  Everyone stared at her expectantly. She heard whispers from the sides of the stage, no doubt anxious producers wondering if she was going to just stand there, gobsmacked. She willed her blank mind to fill. Mute acceptances did not make good television. And the last thing she wanted was to become the laughing stock of the global media.

  Daisy. This was for Daisy, not for anyone else. She looked past the crowd, right past them all to a spot on the red wall at the very far back of the theater, and somehow she found her voice.

  “I know you’re there, Daisy. I know you’re watching from someplace up in the stars and I hope you’re smiling.” She took a moment, recognizing the need to pace herself. “Because I’m smiling, sis. I’m so damn proud of you and your amazing accomplishments. You conquered the small screen in Australia and every Aussie fell in love with you. You ventured overseas, the small fish in a massive pond, and here you conquered the big screen too. Big time. I’m sorry for not telling you all this earlier. I love you, Daisy McCartney, and you rocked.”

  She sniffed but held back the tears, finally finding the courage to turn her attentions back to the crowd. “On behalf of Daisy and my parents, I want to thank the Academy for believing in Daisy and to the producers and the rest of the cast of Four Wishes. And lastly I want to thank Nate Devlin for being in Daisy’s corner when she needed it. Nate, you are a man among men.” She rushed the last bit so as not to catch her voice. “And I thank you for looking after both of us.”

  She singled Nate out amongst all the faces in the crowd and met his gaze. He smiled at her and gave her the thumbs up. If it were possible to feel her heart breaking, she did. His easy-going smile showed her she didn’t mean anywhere near as much to him as he did to her. She’d be gone tomorrow and by the end of the week, there’d no doubt be another woman warming his sheets.

  Sure he’d never made her feel that way in bed but he’d also never promised more than a fling. A short one at that. Relief flooded her as she was directed off the stage and into a little room to be briefly interviewed about Daisy’s win. For once she wanted the attention, wanted to hold onto it as long as she could, because the moment she stopped talking, she’d be excused and would have to go back to Nate.

  They’d arrived like a couple, sat hand in hand like a couple. To all the onlookers, they probably even appeared to be a couple. But she knew the truth. And the truth ached.

  She spoke on auto-pilot through the interview but all the while, she thought about how unfair life could be. She’d lost her sister without realizing how much she loved her and now she’d found the man of her dreams, only he didn’t want to be anybody’s Prince Charming. He didn’t think he was good enough.

  Pretending any longer would smash her completely. There was only one thing for it. She couldn’t allow herself to fall back into bed with him tonight.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nate could barely keep his eyes open. Maybe if he was a drinking man, he’d be able to cope because everyone around him seemed to have an abundance of energy. Including Holly—she’d been like a hyperactive butterfly all night, flitting from conversation to conversation—although she hadn’t touched a drop of champagne all night. If she kept up the partying any longer and kept making excuses to prolong their night out, he’d be forced to turn to the alcohol he’d steered clear of for years.

  He and Holly had been invited up to the Academy Award Governor’s Ball at the Hollywood and Highland Grand Ballroom. That party he could understand, that he could handle. But she’d been accepting offers for after parties ever since. Parties she’d never given any indication of being the slightest bit interested in. He couldn’t think what she found to talk about with the other party-goers but he wished she’d just shut up and come home. If it were conversation she was after, he’d happily talk to her all night.

  In between other occupations of course.

  He growled under his breath as another wave of desire hit him. She was killing him. And he had a good mind to tell her. Soon.

  They’d been to the Vanity Fair Oscar Party at Sunset Towers, made a brief appearance at a fund raising party and had somehow made their way to an iconic pop star’s mansion. For someone who’d been so very hot for him in the early hours of yesterday morning, she didn’t appear to be very enthusiastic now. Was she avoiding him?

  The thought rocked him and he frowned as he watched her talking to some wannabe actor across the room. The guy who had the posture of a gorilla leaned in even closer to Holly and all the muscles in Nate’s body clamped up as she laughed at something Mr. Gorilla said. Nate shook his head, confused and surprisingly hurt by her behavior.

  She’d not shown even a glimmer of excitement for this event all week and he’d seen her eyes glaze over at the mention of anything celebrity or Hollywood. She’d professed to be not at all interested in latching onto any of Daisy’s fame or fortune and he’d believed her. Wholeheartedly.

  So what was this?

  He glanced at his watch. It was almost two in the morning for crying out loud. Her plane would take off at noon. He had to get her home; they didn’t have time to waste. Did it really matter if she wasn’t exactly the person he’d pegged her to be? His body was so tight he needed to get her out of his system.

  Putting his soft drink down on a nearby bar table, he all but charged across the room. “Holly, it’s time to go home,” he said when he reached her. He gripped her arm and pulled gently. He looked at the gorilla. “See you later, buddy.”

  “Nate, slow down. What are you doing?” Holly’s pleas and questions barely reached him over the noise as he weaved through the crowd toward the entrance, but when they emerged into the open air and he looked at her, he couldn’t mistake the wrath in her eyes.

  She tugged hard and pulled her arm out of his death-grip. She rubbed at the spot, and remorse that he may have hurt her filled him.

  “Are you okay?” He leaned forward to take her arm again, more gently this time, but she snatched it out of his reach.

  “Never mind my arm.” She glared at him. “What the hell were you doing dragging me away like that? I was having a conversation.”

  He snorted. “Didn’t look like that to me.”

  She crossed her arms, the glare didn’t lesson. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “If you don’t know, then you are naive. But if you want to go home with him, to his bed, then don’t let me stop you.”

  She scoffed, revulsion marring her normally gorgeous facial features. “Are you offering anything more?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “A pretty straight-forward one I’d say. You think Liam wants to take me to bed. Isn’t that what you want too?”

  He opened his mouth, shut it again. Damn her, whatever he said, she’d twist it. He didn’t want to spend their last night
fighting, but he couldn’t lie to her either. “Yes. I still haven’t had enough of you. I’m on fire for you.”

  * * *

  Holly’s libido quivered at Nate’s words. She thanked the Lord she’d abstained from drinking any alcohol or she’d have crumbled under the heat of his admission. Somehow instead she found reserves of strength deep within, lifted her chin high, pushed back her shoulders and spoke. “I’m hot for you, too, but I can’t do that to myself. One more night with you would kill me.” She saw him raise his eyebrows and she rushed to explain. “Doesn’t mean I want a night with some random guy either. I’m not like you and Daisy—I can’t cope with meaningless sex, no matter how good.”

  He stepped toward her, lifted his hand as if he was going to touch her, but she couldn’t let him. She jumped back and rammed hard into the banister railing. Pain seared her spine but it had nothing on the pain in her heart.

  He dropped his hand, spoke seriously. “It wasn’t meaningless sex, Daisy. I felt a connection with—”

  She gasped, not hearing anymore about his stupid connection. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes as all her doubts and fears were confirmed. “I’m Holly,” she all but spat.

  “Holly!” He sounded shocked, appalled by his faux pas but it was too late. The damage was irrevocable. Daisy may have been dead but she’d always been there between them, no matter if for a few blissful days Holly had pretended otherwise.

  Her breathing slowed as she looked at the beyond-handsome man in front of her. He looked genuinely remorseful but she was grateful he didn’t try to weasel out of that one.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s been a bizarre week. Emotions have been riding high. I’ve probably done the typical female thing and confused lust with love. I’m sure I don’t really love you. I’m sure I’ll go back to Australia and realize my desire to spend the rest of my life with you is ludicrous. I’ll move on. I’ll get over you. Don’t lose sleep over it.”