“Dee, that was fantastic. You're going to be phenomenal tonight.” Nathan clapped a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stand still.
“You should go rest up. The show starts in a few hours.”
“What about my performance with Dante?” December panted, still out of breath but energized. She felt like she could take on the world. “Shouldn’t we rehearse that too?”
“It’s only a duet, honey. Don't be nervous. All you have to do is bop along to the beat and flirt with him when he moves around you on stage.” Nate answered, tossing his gear into his gym bag. “I'll see you on stage. Laters.”
December watched his retreating form with a frown. She had a few more hours to kill. She didn't want to think about yesterday so she wanted to be kept mind-numbingly busy. She hadn't even gone online just so she wouldn't have to know what people said about last night's show. She wanted zero distractions for today. Walking quickly to the door, she called her driver to pick her up. It would take Terrence at least two hours to get her looking presentable for tonight, right? That sounded like a plan. December's cell phone buzzed in her hand so she looked down to see Clarissa's name on the screen. Sighing deeply, she answered.
“Yes, Clarissa? What is it?” She kept her voice cold.
“You can't stay mad at me forever, you know.” Her best friend said anxiously.
“Well I'm just going to have to give it a good ol' college try, now won't I?”
“I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have trusted Trace to handle that with tact and subtlety. It was my fault. Don't blame Terrence.” Clarissa bleated.
“I didn't. I knew it was you and that butthead from the start.”
“So you accept my apology then?” she asked, hope evident in her voice.
“What? No way. Also those pancakes weren't even up to IHOP's standard. I think there were real blueberries in there and you know how I feel about that.” December shuddered. She might have said blueberry pancakes but she definitely just wanted the blueberry syrup the restaurant chain offered. There was nothing fruity in that fruit sauce. Just the way she liked it.
“Okay, how about tomorrow I'll bring them with me?”
“With sausage and scrambled eggs?”
“But of course.”
“Alright. I might let you in, but don't count on it.”
“Yay! You do love me.”
“Uh huh.”
“I really am sorry, babe. I swear I didn't know he was going to do that. I thought since it was only you and Tom as the guests, he'd maybe play a game and get you two talking. I didn't think he'd pull out that old text message.”
“Ugh. I don't want to talk about it... but he smelled so good, C. And he was super nice and so freaking' gorgeous.” December admitted, gushing and whining in one fell swoop.
“I know. I saw. That man is yummy. What did he whisper to you when your face was covered?”
“He said ‘not to worry’. That 'the worst was over.' His lips were right on my ear! I don't know how I didn't just throw myself at him, screeching my love for him like a deranged animal.”
“I was very impressed at that too. You seemed very calm and very into him.”
“Really? Do you think he noticed? “
“Um...”
“He didn't notice, did he? I knew it. I should have screeched.”
Clarissa giggled, “He would have definitely noticed that. But seriously, Dee, you didn't embarrass yourself one bit. Trace did that but you remained cool throughout. You could play this any way you want to now.”
“What do you mean?” December knew that she was now talking to Clarissa's publicist side.
“This is spin control, babe. The press won't leave you alone until you give them something, you know that, right? So you can make it out to be just a little crush and laugh it off. Maybe a few tabloids will make stuff up to try to drag it out, but within the month it'll be old news. Or you can call Tom, apologize and do a couple of tweets back and forth so the fans know you're friends now. No hard feelings. You both get extra exposure, but on your own terms.”
“I don't like using Twitter. The fact that I can only use so many words makes me feel like it’s a test and I'll fail if I can't get it all in there just right. Also, I'm not too keen on this calling Tom business.”
“What? Why?”
“I overheard him basically say that the thought of even having to date me was repulsive.” So she embellished a little, big deal.
“You're probably exaggerating. But even so, he's still a jerk for even alluding to that. You are a total catch.” Clarissa remarked.
“Yeah, yeah, so do I get out of this Tweeting thing or what?”
“Maybe. I'll call his people and see what's what first. I won't make the show tonight, but I'll see you first thing tomorrow. Any reporters ask that about your text, just blush and talk about the charity.”
“Will do, Mon Capitan.”
“Dork. Love you. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Love you too. Buhbye.”
Halfway through the drive back to the hotel, Clarissa called again.
“Hi hi.”
“Hey, just listen, there's a change of plans. I've arranged for your driver to take you straight to the arena building so you'll enter through the side door. The red carpet won't be set up yet so very few people will be milling around. Terrence is already on his way. After he's through with you, I arranged a short interview for you with Celebrity News. It’s an exclusive agreement, so she won't be asking you about Tom. Like, at all. You’ll simply talk at length regarding tonight's charity efforts. Answer all the other questions except for Tom stuff. If she asks, ignore her. But do it politely and bashfully. Two photographers will be allowed to take pictures of you and your dress for the fashion by-lines. Then you'll be ushered inside to your seat until it’s time for you to perform. Afterwards you'll sneak out the back exit precisely at nine. Which is a full hour before anyone else will be allowed to leave. I've already briefed Damien to keep you on track.” She directed briskly, sounding a lot less jovial than she did when they ended their previous call.
“Alright, but why the sudden change of plans?” December's eye twitched in worry. Clarissa only assigned her bodyguards for public events and concerts. Damien was the head of her security team back in New York. He rarely flew out to meet her anywhere unless she was on tour.
“Is this for my safety? Do I have another stalker? Oh God, is it the same one from before?” Her voice became shriller with each word.
“No, calm down. It's nothing like that. It's just a pre-emptive strike. I'll explain in the morning, until then do not under any circumstances watch the TV, listen to the radio, or go online.” Clarissa’s voice was confident enough that December believed her. She took a deep relaxing breath, steadying herself.
“OK. Do I still have to talk to Tom?”
“Hold that thought, sweets. For now, we'll let him deal with the fallout. “
“What fallout? There's more?”
“Do what I told you, December. I mean it.”
“You know I will.”
She'd learned from experience to heed Clarissa's warnings. It usually entailed something she would regret hearing about until Clarissa was able do damage control. December was more than happy to live in her carefully constructed bubble.
“Okay. Good. Just follow Damien’s instructions and it'll all go smoothly. I'll call you tonight and explain everything. Bye.”
“Talk to you later then.” December stared at her phone blankly for a few seconds before slipping it back into her purse. She trusted Clarissa and Damien implicitly. Terrence however would not be happy since they rarely got along.
Damien of the giant rugged Australian stock and Terrence with his frail, wispy frame, were like oil and water. Or was it more like venom and bloodstreams? Either way it was not pretty when they had to be in the same room together for longer than an hour. At nearly 6’4” with sandy blond hair, emerald green eyes, and the poutiest, most kissable lips that was ever
y woman's downfall, Damien Fimmel was a total stud. And he knew it with every long legged, thick-thighed stride. Therefore, he was more than a little arrogant and that was where Terrence stepped in, to tell him about himself. He bickered unmercifully while Damien baited him at each turn, since he apparently got a kick out of winding him up. For an ex-Navy Seal-turned-bodyguard, Damien was a pretty mellow guy. Meanwhile, for a man who went to fashion school and barely weighed one hundred and forty pounds soaking wet, Terrence was kind of a hothead.
December spotted Damien posed against the building as the town car finally rolled up to her new destination. By the time she stepped out of the automobile, he was by her side, sweeping her into a brisk but firm hug.
“Hey, short stuff.” To Damien everyone was short, so December didn't mind one bit, especially when he flashed his megawatt smile her way. “It's good to see you again.”
“It's good to see you too. How's Marilyn?” She asked following him inside.
“She's about to pop any day now. We're having a little girl,” he told her proudly.
Probably everyone in the Tri-state area knew Damien and Marilyn were having a baby girl. But he looked so delighted, it was contagious. December cooed in happiness for him.
“Congratulations, Damien. You're going to be a fantastic Daddy.” She said, finally telling him what she'd wanted to say all along.
“Thanks, Kitten, that means a lot to me. I mean it. I'm so nervous but excited.” He grinned down at her, before his smile softened with sympathy. “So listen... I'm sorry about that guy. We saw it on TV last night.”
“Oh well, it's the story of my life. Girl passively stalks guy. Girl gets drunk and texts traitorous talk show host. Boy thinks girl is vomitus.” December deadpanned. Damien guffawed loudly despite himself and poked her lightly in the side, making her laugh.
“You're too good for him anyway. The man has the ultimate poker face. I doubt he even has emotions. Hell, he might even be a cyborg.” He winked at her conspiratorially, and she beamed back in gratitude. December really loved her friends. They babied her like nobody's business, but she truly appreciated it.
“Alright, enough chit-chat. Let's get down to brass tacks here, Missy. You don't go anywhere without me. Clarissa must have pulled a lot of strings if she got you this kind of special treatment, so let's make her efforts worth it, yeah? I'll wait outside while you get ready. Terrence is already inside your dressing room. Yes, of course it has a shower. And yes, Clarissa does think of everything. I'll escort you to your seats, where you'll sit between Terrence and me. When it's time for your performances, we'll be waiting backstage for you.” Damien instructed, as they strode further into the building.
“Got it. What about the photographs and interview?”
“I'll knock on your door in an hour and forty-five minutes, then take you to the enclosed red carpet area. It will be closed for at least fifteen minutes; therefore you get five, maybe ten minutes worth of photographs. Then I'll take you to a small seating area where you'll have a five minute interview. After that, it's the seats. Any questions?”
“Nope. I don't think you left anything out,” she replied, committing his words to memory.
“Good. You'll thank us later for this, trust me.”
“Famous last words?”
“Oi, just get in there.” Damien rolled his eyes and playfully shoved her towards her dressing room door where Terrence awaited with open arms.
“Hey baby girl, ready for tonight?” Terrence asked once Damien shut the door behind her.
“Wait a minute. You two didn't say one mean word to each other. Is it that bad?” she asked anxiously, chewing on her bottom lip.
“To be honest, it's not. But the fallout with the press always makes everything seem so much worse. Especially in the beginning, so that's why you're getting the super sheltered treatment.” Terrence admitted, honest as ever.
“That makes sense. But what about the banter? I miss the banter.” December secretly breathed a sigh of relief. At least things hadn’t gotten worse.
“He's going to be a dad. My crush is officially over.” He dramatically slumped down on the styling chair in the middle of the room.
“Wait, you had a crush on him?” she asked, glad for the chance to focus on something else, although she actually was flabbergasted at Terrence’s admission.
“Yes, dummy. Insults equal flirting? Hello, I was playing hard to get.” Terrence explained, shocked she hadn't caught on ages ago.
“Well, sorry. You know I don't understand the subtleties of courtship,” December remarked, sarcastically.
“Hush up, you.” He laughed, handing her a toiletry bag “Go shower, it's through that little red door. We need to hurry.”
An hour and half later, Damien knocked on the door, announcing it was time to wrap it up. December and Terrence emerged from the room two minutes later, all decked out for the occasion. Terrence in a snazzy suede-edged tan suit and December in a gauzy pale pink floor-length gown with a plunging sweetheart neckline, her hair done up in a loose chignon. Even Damien donned a black suit jacket over his white t-shirt, just for the occasion.
He whistled his appreciation. “December, you look wow. T-Dog, you done good.”
Terrence's grip on her hand tightened. “Friend-zoned like you wouldn't believe.” he hissed, despondently. She squeezed his hand back and rubbed his arm. Apparently her bad luck in love was catching. “Go on. I'll wait here. I need a minute alone.”
“You know what we're going to do, Terr? We're going to have fun. We are not going to be sad. We're going to enjoy the hell out of tonight. Then we'll go back to the hotel and watch a terrible movie and probably sob until it’s time to go to the airport. But first, there will definitely be dancing,” December whispered fiercely into his ear. He nodded in agreement with unshed tears brimming in his eyes. She hugged him tightly, careful not to disrupt all of his hard work.
“Okay, the reporter you're talking to is Susannah Golden. She's been at Celebrity News for about two years and this is her big break. So be easy on her.” Damien muttered quickly.
He took her arm once the photographers had all the images they needed and led her over to a nervous-looking woman with bleached blonde hair and a slightly manic smile. December vaguely recognized from her TV, while beside her stood a tall cameraman whose face remained hidden behind the large equipment he was focused on.
“Oh my, don't you look breath-taking. It's such a pleasure to meet you, December.” They shook hands, as her smile got wider and more unhinged.
“Thank you so much for having me, Susannah.” December replied, blushing at the compliment.
“Are you excited to be performing tonight?”
“Oh yes, this is the first time I'll be performing at the 'Critic's Favorites' Awards'. I'm just so nervous I might trip on stage and make a fool of myself.” December admitted, grinning.
Susannah chuckled, “I'm sure you'll be fine. Who designed this gorgeous dress of yours?”
“This is a Terrence Mitchell Original. It's fantastic, isn't it?” December twirled around slightly.
Agreeing heartily, Susannah smoothly shifted the topic. “So we know you usually like to raise awareness about a different charity or foundation whenever you perform. What cause will you be promoting tonight?”
“I'm donating eighty percent of the proceeds from my latest single and tonight’s appearance fee to something that's close to my heart, The Philadelphia Children's Home.”
“Is that an orphanage?”
“Yes, it's the place I called home for the first ten years of my life. The building needed repairs, so I've decided to completely renovate it to make it a real home for the kids who live there. A home is a source of pride and belonging for people, whether it’s a house with a family or an orphanage. These children need something to hold on to, and I'm going to try my very best to give them that.” December expounded.
Susannah’s eyes softened as she listened to December's impassioned speech. “T
hat's very admirable. It’s no wonder that you're such an inspiration to your fans.”
“I don't know about all of that, but I do know that I'm in a position to help as many people as I can, and I love doing it.” December spoke with heartfelt sincerity.
The two women continued chatting for a few more minutes about her upcoming projects and general industry talk, when Susannah suddenly began to fidget nervously. She looked incredibly reluctant to ask the question that was written on her index card prompt.
“So December you're usually very private about your dating life but since that’s all changed after last night… Is there a special someone waiting at home for you or are you hoping Tom Elmswood will call?”
December smiled wanly at her, and redirected the subject. “Can I just thank my fans for being so supportive and wonderful each and every day? I love you all.”
Damien sensed that this was her way of ending the interview before it went awry. He motioned for the cameraman to wrap up filming and led December away after she said her goodbyes.
“So, how did I do?”
“Great. We just have to make it through your two songs and we'll be home in no time.”
“Oh, thank God. I've had enough of sunny LA and I've only been outside for like ten minutes. “
December’s Favorite Buttermilk Pancakes
(just in case she can’t get to IHOP)
Ingredients:
1 egg
1 1/2 cups of milk
2 cups of flour
1 tablespoon of whole-wheat flour
1 heaping tablespoon of fresh baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 tablespoons of sugar
4 tablespoons of vegetable oil
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
Method:
Beat together the egg and milk. Add the rest of the ingredients. Mix (can add more milk if needed).
HeartWorks Page 19
