It’s saying exactly what I want to say. But Lou can’t see it. She’s still too guarded to get it. That’s fine. I can wait.
“It’s just a movie. We’re just going to the theater. Relax. It’s gonna be fun.”
Fun?
Barely controlled chaos is more like it.
I take Thurman’s hand and step from the limo onto the red carpet. The flashing lights blind me. And they double when Buck gets out of the car.
He tucks my hand into the crook of his tuxedo-clad arm, smiling and waving to the masses vying for his attention. People hold mics across the barricade calling out as we stop and pose every few feet in front of the logo-covered backdrop.
About halfway down the red carpet, still cameras give way to video. Questions are thrown at Buck. Fur covered boom mics hang over our heads, held by unseen hands stationed behind the gaggle of cameramen and reporters.
Buck answers questions; most of the time I haven’t the slightest idea what he’s saying. The commotion distracts and almost overwhelms me.
Then someone asks, “Ms. Fontaine isn’t your usual type. Why the departure from blondes?”
My teeth clench tight, but Buck doesn’t miss a beat.
“The blondes were the departure. Ms. Fontaine has been my type all along.” His hand closes over mine, squeezing lightly.
My cheeks hurt from smiling before we get past the videographers to the print reporters, who are waiting for Buck to stop and chat with them for a moment.
“What’s your relationship status?” Someone calls over the horde as Buck’s people herd us past the group.
Buck winks. “Complicated.”
The premiere went off without a hitch. Lou’s as graceful as any of the plastic people I deal with all the time, only she’s more real.
At the after-party, Lou excuses herself for the ladies’ room, just as a booming voice calls out. “Wylder.”
I turn, holding out my hand to Norman McDowell. His smile is a good sign. The fact that he’s sought me out, even better.
He gives my hand a firm squeeze as he takes off walking toward the center of the room. “Walk with me. How are you, Buck?”
“Fine, thanks. You?”
“I’m good. You know, my Arianne’s been looking for you.”
Ah, shit.
I nod and do my best to dance around the subject. “Yes, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her.”
“She thinks you’ve changed your number on her.”
Fuck.
I shake my head. “No, sir. Same number.”
He clamps his hand over my shoulder. “You know, my little girl—she’s a handful, but she’s going to make someone a fine wife one day.”
My mouth goes dry as I try to swallow. I cough.
“Yes, I’m sure she will, sir. I’m sure she will.” Just not me.
Luckily, other people crowd around and the subject changes to that of industry business before I say something that gets me black-balled.
Lou drifts past, behind the crowd, and my heart stutters.
I hold my hand out to McDowell. “Sir. It was great to see you.”
He shakes my hand and nods, but is still talking to some director or other, so I slip away.
I take a couple of glasses of champagne as I pass by a waiter and catch up to Lou. “You want to ditch this party?”
“I thought you had to be here.” She takes her drink and sips, making a face. “Not the best stuff, is it?”
“Not really my favorite, but it’s expected, so…”
“So you pretend. You pretend a lot don’t you?” She sets her almost full glass on a small, marble-topped table filled with an over large urn of fresh flowers.
I shrug and back her against the wall in the alcove hidden by a small potted tree. “I’m an actor. I act.”
She laughs. I’m not sure if she’s laughing with me, or laughing at me. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s both.
“It’s kinda weird. You spend all your time pretending to be something you aren’t, only to end up doing a reality show to prove to the public who you really are.” She quirks one eyebrow.
My face heats for a moment. “Busted. That’s exactly what happened. But don’t we all run around acting like something we aren’t most of the time? Don’t you?”
Her back goes rigid under my hand. “I guess I do. After all, I’ve spent the last five years trying to outrun who I am and where I came from, only to find myself right back in the same situation doing what the whole town always expected of me anyway.”
Her words loop through my mind as I tug on my suddenly over-tight collar and bowtie. “That’s not what I meant, Lou. Really. I just meant—”
She lays her hand on my arm. “It’s fine, Buck. It is what it is. And I’m fine with it as long as it stays between you and me.”