Chapter 12 #2
‘Yes!’ the girls reply together, and Drew guides us through the vibrant crowd to the VIP entrance, Maisie’s hand clasped tightly in his. He hands over four tickets printed on embossed card, and we’re shown to a holding area.
‘This is so exciting,’ says Maisie, bouncing up and down.
‘I knew you’d love it, Mais,’ he says with a wink.
I’m not sure if it’s the sweet gesture of the pink tie, the adoring look on Maisie’s face, or that I’m cocooned in Drew’s jacket, but I’m no longer in charge of my thoughts. All I want is to take him somewhere private and—
‘Drew, do you think I can get Max Stirling’s autograph?’ asks Harlow, slicing through my wayward thoughts. ‘We brought a notebook and pen just in case.’
‘Uh… maybe?’ he replies uncertainly. ‘Not sure we’ll get to meet him. Depends on—’
‘What do you mean?’ shrieks Maisie. ‘We have to, Uncle Drew. I told all my classmates that I’m meeting Captain Universe.’ Her bottom lip starts to quiver, and she’s got the look of a Disney waif about her, all wide eyes and furrowed brow.
Out in the square the crowd erupts with cheers, and moments later, Captain Universe himself enters the holding area.
He makes his way through organisers, press, and minor celebrities, giving each a few seconds of his time, then heads over.
‘Hey, man, you made it,’ he says to Drew with a grin.
They exchange a back-slappy man-hug.
Harlow squeezes my hand and when I glance at her, she’s completely starstruck. But it’s Maisie who captures Max’s attention, because she suddenly bursts into tears.
‘Hey,’ says Max, bobbing down so they’re eye to eye. ‘You must be Maisie.’ She nods, now gulping like a goldfish, but Max carries on as if this were a perfectly normal exchange. ‘Well, it’s great to meet you. Should we take a selfie?’
Maisie inhales sharply, nodding as Max takes out his phone and snaps a photo with his arm draped around a wide-eyed, open-mouthed girl.
He stands up and turns to me and Harlow.
‘Hey, I’m Max,’ he says to Harlow, holding out his hand.
She handles herself with far more decorum than poor Maisie, shaking his hand and saying, ‘I’m Harlow and this is my mum, Sophie. She’s going to be working with you.’
‘So I hear,’ he says, his eyes locking with mine. ‘Lucky me, huh?’
His enormous hand hangs in the air between us and I reach out to shake it. It swallows mine and he doesn’t let go right away. He also doesn’t drop eye contact.
Objectively, he’s a very handsome man – slightly taller than Drew and broader across the shoulders – very superhero-ish – but he’s also staring into my eyes like he wants to undress me with his teeth.
‘Can I please have your autograph?’ asks Harlow, unwittingly saving me, and I catch the tiny flicker of annoyance that crosses Max’s face before he breaks into a wide smile.
‘Sure thing.’
I tug gently on my hand and he releases it, then I open my evening bag for the notepad and pen. He takes them, scrawls quickly, and hands both back to me, giving Harlow a brief smile. Then he lifts his head and scans the holding area.
‘Hey, so I need to find my publicist…’
‘That’s cool, man,’ says Drew. ‘Maybe we’ll see you after.’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ Max replies in a way that suggests it’s unlikely. ‘And hey, have fun on the red carpet.’
He strides off, meeting up with a harried-looking woman who’s obviously cross with him. I only encountered Max for a few minutes, and I already suspect he’s a handful. It’ll make for an interesting campaign shoot, but that’s something to worry about later.
‘All right, everyone,’ says a young guy with a tablet in hand, ‘it’s time for the red carpet. Can I get you lined up here, please.’ He points directly in front of Drew, meaning we’ll be first.
‘Oh my god,’ says Harlow quietly beside me.
‘You four, are you together?’ the guy asks us.
‘Yeah,’ Drew replies.
‘Names?’
‘Drew Parker – and this is Maisie and that’s Sophie and Harlow.’
The guy types on his tablet, then speaks into a headset, rattling off our names and waving us through a gate. I quickly slip out of Drew’s jacket and pass it to him and he shrugs it on, then takes Maisie’s hand. Harlow and I follow them onto the red carpet, also holding hands.
It’s the most surreal moment of my life – even more so than meeting Max Stirling – as several dozen photographers call out our names. One signals for us to stand together in a line, and we do, Drew and I flanking the girls.
‘Beautiful!’ he shouts in a cockney accent.
At the other end of the carpet, a woman calls for us. ‘Parker family, this way, please.’ We hurry towards her, ducking through a doorway, suddenly thrust into the darkness of the Odeon’s foyer.
My insides are humming from the adrenaline, and we stop, clumped together, both girls beaming and Maisie squealing with delight.
‘Pretty cool, huh?’ asks Drew.
Maisie clasps both hands to her chest. ‘This is the best night of my entire life, Uncle Drew. I even got a selfie!’
‘Yeah, I saw,’ says Drew. ‘I’ll get Max to text it to me, okay, Mais?’
She nods vigorously. ‘And you got his autograph!’ she says to Harlow. ‘What does it say?’
I take the notepad out and give it to Harlow, and her eyes grow wide.
‘Oh my god, how cool. It says, “To Harlow. Love, Max Stirling” – and there are two kisses.’
‘Let me see,’ says Maisie, and Harlow shows her the notepad. ‘Wow. And he wrote “love”.’
If it’s possible for a little girl to swoon, that’s Maisie right now. I look up at Drew and we exchange amused smiles.
‘Should we get some snacks?’ he asks. ‘Popcorn? Candy?’
‘Yes please!’ Maisie replies, and we follow Drew to the candy bar.
It’s only when we join the short queue that I recall what the woman at the end of the red carpet said: Parker family, this way.
Parker family.
I look at Harlow, then at Maisie and Drew, and something inside me splinters.
Because as close as the girls seem to be getting, and as sweet as Drew’s been, tonight is just a work thing.
It has to be.
For my own sanity.