Chapter Five
I’m having a tea party.
Sort of.
So, fun fact, I love tea parties. Like, I’m seriously
obsessed with them and have been ever since I was a little girl. When I’m
happy? Tea party. When I’m sad or stressed? Then it’s a pit-tea party.
I’m hysterical, I know.
Right now, I’m happy. Jen is doing my hair and makeup for
the movie premiere tonight, and I’m wearing my fluffy pink robe, sipping tea,
and letting her do her thing.
“I got home late last night and heard you talking to
someone, but I didn’t want to disturb you,” she says as she begins curling my
hair. “Did Christian spend the night?”
“What?!” I cry, choking on my tea. “No, Christian
didn’t spend the night! He wasn’t even here. We were on the phone. Sheesh.”
She steps in front of me with a wink and a grin. “Just
checking.”
With a nervous laugh, I defend myself. “Why would you even
ask such a thing? We just went out the one time.”
“Yeah, I know, but you’ve been talking about him nonstop
ever since.”
“Um…”
“When you got home Monday night, how late did we stay up
talking about the date?”
Oh. Right.
“They had to use extra concealer under my eyes when I got to
hair and makeup Tuesday morning.”
“Because it was easily 3:00 a.m. when we finally crashed.
And when you got home Tuesday night, you were still gushing about him.”
“He’s very gushable. What can I
say?” I quip before taking a sip of my chai tea. “He called me last night.
That’s who you heard me talking to. We were on the phone for three hours, and I
didn’t want to hang up.”
“Mm-hmm…”
“I hope this premiere doesn’t freak him out or make him
think I’m a weirdo or something.”
“Why would you even think that?”
“I look very different in the movie and act completely
differently.”
“Yeah, it’s called acting, Ella. He knows it’s not real.”
She steps in front of me and continues to wield her curling iron. “So, you play
a punk rock chick and look a lot less like your usual Pollyanna self. It’s just
a role. And if he freaks out over it, then that’s a tiny red flag.”
“I don’t want there to be any flags,” I murmur, feeling
myself pout.
“Look, from everything you’ve told me about him, it won’t be
an issue. He knows what you do for a living, and he knows this is just a movie,
so stop looking for trouble.”
She’s totally right. I think I’m feeling this way because
Christian isn’t in the entertainment business. I’ve spent so much of my life
surrounded by people who are like me. We all had a fairly common goal and
shared hobbies and interests. So, I’m completely focusing on what I think
he’s thinking, and I shouldn’t be. I know we’ve spent a lot of time getting to
know each other this week, but there’s no way I know everything about him.
Not yet.
But I desperately want to.
“You didn’t act like this when you were dating Jim,” she
says, interrupting my thoughts.
“That’s because I wasn’t really invested in the
relationship. He was a nice enough guy, but I didn’t have romantic feelings for
him, and I could never see myself marrying him. I knew he wasn’t the one.”
“That’s fair. And I already know you have them for
Christian. I’ve never heard someone describe a brief kiss with quite so much
intensity.”
I can feel my face heat, but she’s not wrong. That one
little kiss felt more powerful than any other kiss in my life.
And I really hope we can kiss again tonight. He’s picking me
up, and we’re driving to the premiere together, so it feels like a traditional
date scenario, where it would totally be the norm to share a goodnight kiss
when he brings me home.
“Are you almost done with your tea?”
Looking up at her, I nod. “How come?”
“Because I want you to go and brush your teeth so we can
start on your makeup. I don’t want you to sip anything or have to wipe your
face or mouth. By the time I’m done, your beautiful face will look like a work
of art.”
I quickly finish my tea and hand her my cup. “A work of art?
Really?”
She preens. “I’m that good.”
I stand and stretch before hugging her. “Yes, you are.”
Within minutes, I’m back with minty fresh breath and a
clean, spray-tanned face for her to work with. I’ve done this so many times,
both on set and here in the apartment with Jen, that I’m completely at ease.
“Did you decide which outfit you’re going with tonight?”
“The green tiered skirt with the black top,” I tell her,
careful not to move my lips too much.
“Ooh…interesting choice. I would have thought you’d go with
the pink sundress.”
“Considering I’m a punk rock girl in this movie, and the
whole thing is about the not-so-glamorous side of the rock world, I thought the
pink would be a little too light and sunny. The green and black sort of fits
the mood.”
“No, I totally agree,” Jen says as she applies my
foundation. “You just didn’t seem overly enthused with that combo when we
talked about it.”
“You were right. I was so hyper-focused on finding the
perfect dress that I wasn’t finding anything I actually wanted to wear. And the
skirt is so cute.”
“It really is. And it looks good on you, too. Christian’s
going to love it.”
Will he?
“So, it’s the movie and then the after-party tonight,
right?”
“Yup. Don’t wait up,” I tease, and she laughs.
“Are you kidding me? I’m going to want all the details. But
I’ve had a really long day already, so maybe I won’t wait up. We’ll see.”
We talk about clothes, makeup, and Christian while she
finishes my makeup. My hair is still curled and sprayed, but she hasn’t brushed
it out yet. That comes after I get dressed.
Which is what I’m doing now.
Jen follows me into my room with the rest of her hair tools
and sits on my bed while I get dressed. I grew up with sisters, so it’s not a
big deal that she’s hanging out while I change. I slip on the skirt, then the
sleeveless top, before stepping into my sandals. No sooner am I done than Jen’s
on her feet and fussing with my hair.
I’m standing in a cloud of hairspray when she tells me to
twirl.
So, I do.
“Perfect!” she declares. “Your hair, the makeup, the
outfit…everything. Yay!”
I move to check my reflection in the mirror, and I feel
good. Confident. Pretty.
“So?” she asks. “Are you ready for it?”
Am I?
Grabbing my little black purse, I nod. “I am so ready for
tonight. This is going to be the first chance for Christian to experience my
world.”
“Well…really?” Jen asks hesitantly. “I mean, he’s already a
big deal, and he’s on TV all the time because of baseball.”
“That’s true, but he’s never been to a movie premiere
before, so it’s kind of nice that I get to share that with him.”
“He’s either going to enjoy it, or it will scare him off.”
“He doesn’t strike me as the type who scares easily,” I
assure her.
In the distance, our doorbell rings.
“And he’s punctual.”
“That can be a good thing,” she says, following me out of
the bedroom. “Go and have fun. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
I don’t think I’ve made a mistake, but…
My on-screen self is a punk rocker, and it’s a little
jarring seeing how different I look. I’ve got black-and-green-striped hair, and
I’m pretty much rebelling against everything and everyone. I’m rough around the
edges, and the total opposite of who I am in real life.
I keep glancing over at Christian, and every once in a
while, I find him looking at me like, “Who is this person?” I don’t
know what to make of it. Still, when the movie’s over and the theater lights
come on, he’s nothing but positive.
“Great job,” he says. “You were amazing, Ella Rose.”
“Thank you. It was fun to play someone so different
from my usual self…”
Which is my way of assuring him that I am not that
girl with the multicolored hair.
Even though she was pretty badass.
The after-party is at a nearby venue, so we opt to walk
there because LA traffic is always a beast.
“How do you choose the roles you audition for?” he asks, and
it’s a legit question.
“A lot of times, it’s just if I fit the age and physical
description. I like the challenge of playing unique characters—you know, to
push myself. This role was like night and day, compared to my parts on
Storyteller’s shows. I can play the cheerleader and the popular girl, where my
looks are always bright and perky and cute. This was a chance to be a little
grittier.”
He nods. “You were definitely believable.”
“Thank you.”
We walk in companionable silence for a minute or two, but
the noise of the city is all around us: traffic, music, and the buzz of
downtown filling the momentary break in our conversation. I’m hugging my clutch
close, my eyes darting from the bright marquees to the clusters of people
spilling out of restaurants. There’s so much to see and do, and the energy is
palpable.
“So, this after-party,” he says, smiling. “On a scale of one
to ten, how sure are you we’ll actually find it?”
I can’t help but smile, too. “A solid seven. Maybe an eight.
But I promise if we end up in the wrong place, I’ll buy you pizza on the way
back.”
Shaking his head, he laughs. “That’s not the worst backup
plan, but I’ll be the one doing the buying. My mother would have a fit if she
heard I let my date buy me dinner.”
“Well, it’s just pizza,” I counter, playfully nudging his
shoulder with mine, even as he continues to shake his head.
“It doesn’t matter. I was raised with traditional manners,
and if there is pizza—or any food tonight—I’m buying.”
Unable to help myself, I loop my arm through his and rest my
head against his biceps for just a moment as we keep walking. He’s so
incredibly sweet—almost too good to be true.
We stop at a crosswalk, the red hand blinking above us.
Christian leans a little closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if all we did was walk around the city tonight. I
know you need to make an appearance at the party, and I think it’ll be fun,
but…this is nice too.”
I lean my head on his arm again and can’t fight the smile.
“I think so, too.” The light turns green, and we step off the curb together,
the city carrying us forward for another few blocks until we finally reach the
venue.
You can almost hear the music before we even see the