“Wow what a dress!” Lizzie came closer to touch the fabric. “This is beautiful. I love the color. It’s so...blue.”
“That’s supposed to be the point, I think.”
“God, and with your hair.” She put her hand over her heart and bit her lip. “I wish Mom could see you right now.”
“Well, I guess I should go try on my tuxedo.” The Deacon kissed them both on the cheeks and headed for the door. “You girls have fun playing dress up.”
Lizzie frowned. “Looks like I missed the best part.”
“Not really,” Carrie said. “Most of the zippers wouldn’t even go halfway up.” She went back to the mirror and wound her hair around her fingers. Up was definitely the way to go. She turned left and then right, pulling soft tendrils down her cheek. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Lizzie still staring over her shoulder. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t know.” Her sister shrugged. “I guess I’m just impressed by you. I mean here you are, off to a ball where literally the whole world will be watching your every move. I remember a time when a stubborn zipper sent you on a month long fast. Or to bed for a week. But here you are. Solid as a rock.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Carrie slid her hand over her gown. Her sister was right. This was a high pressure situation that would have crushed her like bramble had it been five years ago.
“So, you're going to talk to him?”
Carrie moved around Lizzie and grabbed the robe off the bed. If this was another not-so-subtle attempt to pump her for info about Ty, she wasn’t interested. Especially when she had to deal with the rest of the world’s nosiness in a few short hours. “Talk to him about what?’
“Oh please,” Lizzie scoffed. “Are you really going to try and pretend our conversation the other day didn’t happen? Are you pregnant or not?”
“Well-”
“And don’t bother lying about it, because I can already tell.”
“There’s no way you can tell this early!”
“Of course not. That is, unless her sister drags it out of her.” Lizzie propped the pillows against the headboard and plopped down on the bed. “So congratulations are in order?”
The calm in her sister’s eyes made her all the more agitated. Now was not the time or the place. Later, after tonight, she would have this conversation. At this moment, however, she was happy to keep the secret where it was safe. To herself. “Look Lizzie, the woman who’s doing my hair and makeup will be here in a few minutes. I don’t have time for all of this.”
“Fine.” Lizzie frowned then maneuvered off the bed. “I should go get ready myself. But first, aren’t you going to open the box?”
“What box?”
“This one.” Lizzie brought the briefcase from the dresser and set it on the bed. “Some guy just delivered it. I think the man with him was a police officer.”
Carrie set the box on the dresser and took a closer look. There were no markings, but she knew from experience that was for safety sake. “It’s probably from Earl. Usually the network arranges to loan expensive jewelry for big-time events.”
“Really?” Lizzie’s eyes opened wide. “Well in that case open it.”
Carrie unfastened the latch and popped the top open. Inside lay a pair of sapphire and diamond earrings.
“Wow!” Lizzie put a hand over her mouth. “I’ve never seen diamonds that big. And all of them put together on two earrings. No wonder they sent a sniper to deliver it.”
Carrie pushed around the velvet fabric looking for an accompanying note. “Earl probably made an arrangement with Harry Winston or something. Was there a card or something that came with it?”
“No,” Lizzie said. “Why? Should there be?”
She bit her lip. Unless things had changed in the half decade she’d been out of the loop, the stores always supplied at least a note of appreciation. Not that she needed the gesture, but knowing who to thank would be nice. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Whoever’s gems I’m wearing will step forward and claim them sooner or later.”
“Let’s hope later.” Lizzie held an earring to the lamplight. “I have to admit, this is like Cinderella. Getting dressed up heading to the ball.”
Carrie waited until Lizzie left, before heading into the dressing room to retrieve her suitcase. Inside, tucked under her shoes was a small velvet bag, tightly bound with a draw string. In one hand she held the earrings while she freed the necklace from the pouch with the other. A perfect match.
Maybe Earl wasn’t the one she should be thanking.
***
“Wow, look at all those photographers.”
Ty took one last gulp of his bourbon and glanced out the tinted window of the stretch limousine. Stacey leaned across him with her boobs in his lap, and her eyes squinted against the constant camera flashes.
“I told you this would be a circus,” Manny mumbled, adjusting the lapels of his tuxedo. “I guess that makes you the ring leader.”
“God, I hope I look okay,” Stacey said. “I told my mom to look for me on the entertainment news.” She sat up straight in her seat and smoothed her crimson dress over her. “What do you think guys? Do I do I look okay?”
Ty glanced at the brunette bombshell next to him. The dress looked like someone ran a red paint brush over her, rather than her wearing an actual garment. It barely covered her ass when she sat down. Normally, he wouldn’t mind a woman who did a little advertising, but tonight it only reminded him of how uninterested he really was. “You look great,” he said and winked.
“And you smell incredible,” Manny added over his martini glass.
“Well if you like this, you should see what I have on underneath.”
Ty raised his brow and glanced at his friend. Stacey was on board with the whole platonic arrangement with him, but that hadn’t stopped her from hitting on Manny since the moment they picked her up. He wasn’t sure if it was attempt to make him jealous, or if she was genuinely interested in the guy. Either way it was highly amusing to watch, and Manny didn’t seem to have any complaints either.
“So what’s the plan when we get out?” Stacey said when they pulled up to the curb. “Pose for the paparazzi? Wave at the fans?”
“And keep moving,” Manny warned. “The faster we get inside, the faster we’re out of camera shot.”
The driver opened the car door, unleashing the crowd into a fury of cheers. People screamed and clamored over the velvet ropes, reaching out with pens and papers, and cell phones, waiting to get their pictures.
“Ty over here!”
“Just one picture!”
“Marry me, Jax Sinclair!”
Flash bulbs lit up the night sky like mid-day, so much so, that Ty was tempted to pull out his tinted Oakley’s. The December chill was replaced with July warmth, thanks to gigantic space heaters so high-end fashion wouldn’t be hidden by pesky winter jackets. People screamed, some even cried. Chanting, running, jumping. Ty had been on a million red carpets, but this was sheer madness. This was fandom at a most fevered pitch.
“God Damn!” Manny yelled over the hiss of camera shudders. “It’s like the fucking Academy Awards. It’s crazy!”
“Smile and wave, pal,” Ty said. “Just smile and wave.” He took Stacey’s hand and guided her between the clumps of guests that had formed along the way. He patted backs and kissed cheeks, the whole time with one eye on the arrivals.
Odds were Earl had put her in a blue dress. He had some sort of weird fetish about it, which Ty tried like hell not to think about. He loved the color on her. There was nothing like peeling it off of her, with her looking at him with the same color eyes.
“I think, they think we make a good couple,” Stacy murmured in his ear. She slid her arm around him and gave him a little hug.
“We certainly look the part don’t we?”
“Hey Ty,” Manny yelled over his shoulder. “Keep moving up the line. Carrie’s limo just pulled up.”
Ty turned to
ward the white stretch limousine that idled at the curb. The driver walked around and opened the door, while the crowd waited with cameras poised. At first Lizzie emerged with her father and Earl, followed by a tall burly man he assumed was there for security’s sake. Finally, the driver reached back inside, and Carrie stepped out onto the carpet.
Just as Ty suspected. A knockout in midnight blue.
The crowd seemed to agree, given the sudden barrage of catcalls. A few over-zealous men lurched forward, pushing the rope to its limits. It took all of Ty’s nerve not to barrel down there and throttle them.
“Jesus, she looks incredible,” Manny said, with wide eyes. “The fans are crazy about her.”
“Join the club,” he said to himself, as he watched the pandemonium. It took every bit of his acting abilities not to react to her. Even yards away, the woman appealed to his every sense. He could smell her, his fingers twitched with the need to touch her and brush her copper hair from those bedroom eyes.
The Deacon and Lizzie hovered on either side of her. He was glad she had their support, and maybe somehow they’d buffer the madness if he couldn’t. But as far as he could tell, she was doing fine on her own. With her shoulders back and chin held high, she stepped out to the middle of the carpet. Her smile was easy. She laughed and shook hands.
“Wow, I love that dress,” Stacy said. “And where did she get the jewelry?”
Ty smiled. “Beats me.” He licked his lips, watching the light reflect from diamonds and sapphires hanging from her earlobes. They were more beautiful than he imagined. The hell with the rules. He had to talk to her, just once. And maybe get her alone, kiss her.
“Hey Ty! You look great!” Earl shook his hand and let it linger for photo op sake. “I’m pretty pleased with the turnout.”
Ty could tell by his smirk that he meant the press more than the party’s guest list. “Yeah, well you’re the hostess-with-the-mostest. How about we head inside and send all these people home?”
“Now Ty, remember this is a press event. Which means you and your costar need to say ‘cheese’ first.”
“Carrie over here!”
“Lexie Love! Show us a smile.”
“Turn around Carrie Ann!”
The crowd grew louder as Carrie came closer. Most chanted her name and urged her to pose with him. Lizzie hung in the shadows with the body guard and her father. Ty tried to catch her attention, but caught her father’s daggers instead.
“Come on, Ty,” Earl said. “Get your co-star and strike a pose.”
And in that instant, the carpet seemed to clear, the distance between him, only feet instead of yards. An energy surged within him, weakening his legs and stole his breath.
“Get together!” The crowd shouted, using both their real and characters names to coax them. Ty took a chance and held out his hand, but she surprised him by pulling him close and wrapping her arms around his waist.
The shock of her touch almost knocked him to his knees. Her eyes twinkled like stars, and her skin glistened in the spotlights. Sliding her hand over his arm, she laid her head on his chest.
“Over here you two!
“Carrie Ann, this way!”
“Kiss her, Jax! Kiss her!”
Photographers, at least ten deep, collected in front of them. The ropes bulged as they heaved forward in a wave, and then gave way in a snap. People fell forward in exited shock, before the burly armed guards herded them back behind the barrier.
“It’s like a riot,” he heard Carrie say, with the slightest tremble in her voice. Reflex responded by pulling her closer, and he hadn’t realized he done so until she subtly resisted. Grabbing his hand, she stepped out to arms length, doing a full three-sixty to show off her dress.
“You look beautiful,” he said when she spun back in his arms. “Earl is right about you and blue.”
“Thank you, I like it myself.” Her tone was all business. Not something he was at all used to, and something, he discovered, he despised. Even her body felt foreign against him. Stiff, rigid. He was a prop in her scene, and when she wrapped her hands around his neck and smiled up at him with fake adoration, he felt more like screaming than smiling.
“You know how much this is killing me,” he croaked through his best showbiz smile. “Not being able to talk to you. Or touch you.”
“Hmm, interesting thing to say to your co-star when your date is a few feet away.”
“She’s here as a favor. I thought she’d deflect the attention from us a bit.”
Carrie placed her hands on his chest and adjusted her pose. “It doesn’t look like it’s working.”
“I need to talk to you, Carrie.”
Really?” she uttered, through a smile. “I have a few things to say myself.”
“Just one kiss!”
“Come on you two!
“Hey Jax and Lexi, give us a smooch!”
He looked down at her. Her eyes reflected the bright city lights and the flashbulbs that continued to pop. She smelled like lilacs and night air, a combination so incredibly arousing, he was sure if he wasn’t careful, his smile wouldn’t be the only giveaway about how happy he was to be with her.
And suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing her lips to his. It took all the willpower he possessed not to really kiss her, taste her with his tongue, run his hands all over her. When she slipped away, a puff of cold air swirled around him. Her fingers traced over his, as she moved around him toward the door, disappearing up the red carpet and inside the hotel.
“Wow, you really are a good actor.” Manny slapped his back on the way by. Ty cursed, following him and Stacy through the entrance.
***
Carrie hadn’t seen such extravagance in a long time, and she hated to admit she liked it. It amazed her that her father hadn’t said one thing derogatory all night, even engaging in polite conversation. Things were going smoothly. Almost too smoothly. But the night was young, and there was no sense expending energy questioning it, given the extended performance the occasion required.
“My goodness this place is beautiful.” Lizzie pulled her black silk wrap around her. “I did a lot of parties in my day at the Waldorf, but this tops them all.” She studied a gigantic ice sculpture in the shape of a flame of fire. Spouting from the top ran a stream of champagne.
“It looks like they pulled out all the stops,” Carrie said. The entire place was lit by candlelight, either with large candelabras or small votives in elaborate, blue, rose center-pieces. Along the wall hung gigantic posters of her and Ty from various photo shoots and episode stills, with spotlights attached at the bottom.
“So what do you think? “Earl asked, handing Carrie a chardonnay and Lizzie what looked like a ginger ale. “We went all out.”
“I can see that,” Carrie said. “There certainly are a lot of people here.”
“You bet. Network executives, press people.” He took a step closer and glanced around the room. “There’s also a bunch of film producers here. They’re clamoring for a big screen reunion.”
The excitement was evident on Earl’s face, and she hated to be the one to squelch it. But there was no way on God’s green earth she would co-star with Ty doing anything. Scripted or otherwise. “Good luck with that.” Carrie raised her glass.
“Hey listen, what do you think it would take for Ty to tickle the ivories a little? That would impress the hell out of everyone.”
“Ty plays the piano?” Lizzie asked. “Huh, he doesn’t seem the type.”
“But not for people,” Carrie corrected. “That’s more of a personal thing.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He jammed the last of his stuffed mushroom in his mouth. “Well, holler if you need anything. I think I’ll drop in on your partner in crime and see how he’s doing.”
Carrie scanned the room. Ty stood at the bar with a drink in one hand and his date in the other. As usual, surrounded by a sea of penguin suits and well-dressed woman, all with eyes focused on him. She could tell by his postur
e and the way he gestured, his party demeanor had kicked into high gear. When he laughed, they did, and when he raised his glass the rest of them did too.
Earl descended the stairs in front of her, and suddenly her head began to swim. It had started that morning, and despite her best efforts to keep at least crackers in her stomach at all times, she realized that once again her morning sickness would be more of an any-time-of-day kind of deal.
“Carrie,” Lizzie asked. “You okay?”
Again, she glanced down at the bar to where Ty stood. As if sensing her, his gaze locked on hers. “I’m fine,” she finally said. “I think I just need something to drink.”
“And eat,” her sister emphasized as they made their way down the stairs.
She looked at Lizzie and back at Ty who pretended to do anything but look back. Again, her focus seemed to swim, and she shook her head to right it. “Maybe you’re right. Let’s go find something to eat.”
“God, quit staring, Harvey. She’s just a woman.”
Harvey leaned on the bar and wiped the syrupy liquor from his fake moustache. The thing felt like a caterpillar crawling across on his face, but he couldn’t take the chance of the Simmons guy recognizing him. Getting past security was enough of a pain in the ass, but now that he had, he was happy just to sit and enjoy the top-shelf bourbon. It would probably taste even better if he didn’t have Layla yammering in his ear.
“Hey, dip shit, are you listening to me?
Man, tonight was his golden opportunity. One he had waited far too long for. If he played his cards right, he would leave this soirée with pictures and a story he could retire on. He could give up this stint a paparazzi. He missed his old hobbies. Ones where payment was guaranteed. He sipped his drink and pictured a Brazilian beach with topless companions smearing him with cocoa butter. After putting up with a Whack-job all this time, that’s exactly what he deserved.
“I don’t get what’s so great about Carrie,” Layla said. “She’s short, she has red hair. Look at those men. They’re falling all over her.”
Harvey turned on his stool. Carrie stood at the foot of the stairs, with a guy having a conversation with her cleavage.
Undercover Heat Page 22
