3. Chapter Three
And the self-help manual said, “Take a deep breath, if you can.”
* * *
There is nothing that I can do to make myself more comfortable. I’m grateful that these kinds of award shows aren’t all the time. You’re herded like cattle in dresses you can’t breathe in. There are hundreds of faces, more famous than mine, yet the camera is equally on me and Graham.
My parents are poised, and not even acknowledging me. Graham has his legs crossed and is brushing lint from his tux.
I can feel a panic attack coming on, and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing. I just need to remind myself to breathe or try to. Seriously, this dress is too tight.
Graham leans in close to me. “What’s wrong? You’re jittery.”
I turn my mouth to his ear. “I don’t want to be here.”
“You and the other thousand people who are here tonight. You’re not alone.”
I press my lips together, hoping to keep the worried crease that forms between my brows from appearing.
“Are you sure you don’t have an exit strategy for tonight?” I whisper.
Graham raises a brow. “You want to escape?”
“More than you could possibly know.”
He doesn’t move his head, but his eyes dart around the room. “I can make one.”
“Would you?”
Something lights in his eyes. “For both of us?”
My shoulders drop slightly. It would be just like him to leave me stranded here, alone, with my parents, who don’t even seem to remember that I’m sitting next to them.
“Yes, for both of us,” I say, still sharply focused on making it look like a friendly conversation, and not the urgent words of a woman ready to run.
“If you and I leave together, and don’t return, that rumor mill will explode,” he whispers. “What people are already saying will escalate.”
I consider that. “Unbeknownst to me, it apparently already has,” I say, to which Graham simply nods.
“I’ll get us out of here, and we go our separate ways.”
“Even better,” I agree.
“We have to present,” he reminds me.
“Obligated, I know.” It’s not like I’m asking to leave right now.
He nods again, and this time he takes my hand, laces our fingers together and rests them on his thigh. “There are millions of women who would like to be in your shoes right now,” he teases.
“They haven’t kissed you to know your breath stinks,” I say, and he chuckles.
“Yeah, well, when I really kiss a woman, you know, for real, her body doesn’t go all rigid. A real kiss from me would make your panties melt off.”
I try to tug my hand free, but Graham grips it tighter.
“Tonight, you’re my girl,” he says, shooting me a smile. “You’re an actress. You can pretend to love me.”
“Then you’d better send in the submission of me doing so to the committee, because it’ll be Oscar-worthy,” I say, and again he chuckles as the orchestra begins to play and the chaos around us begins to settle.
* * *
We are the fourth presenters, and we are nearly an hour into this production. Between the commercial breaks and the monologues, my butt has gone numb, and when they come for us, Graham nearly has to pull me from my chair because I can’t feel anything in my legs. The tightness of this dress has caused my circulation to stop flowing.
The people holding our seats sit down as we are led backstage. Graham is a good three feet in front of me, and I’m trying to catch up.
Backstage we’re told what to do, which we’ve already rehearsed, but again, I know it’s their job to make it go right.
Graham is handed the envelope with the winners, and I am offered his arm.
When the commercial break is over, the emcee, a daytime actress who has been nominated for one of these silly awards six times and never won, takes the stage to talk about our category. We’re presenting for the best actress in a short series, or something like that. With all the ways people can consume entertainment now, there is a category for everything.
Music plays, and Graham and I walk out on the stage.
There is an eruption of cheers from the upper balconies where fans are allowed to watch the show.
I give a little wave, and the volume of the cheers increase. Okay, I can’t help but smile at that.
I exchange a glance with Graham, who has that movie star smile glowing.
I love knowing that people enjoy the work we do. They love the characters, and Graham and I have a unique chemistry—when acting. I love being one of three leading ladies for an entire channel of movies. Someday, I’ll have another leading man. My stories will get fresher, and more in-depth. And maybe those people who are cheering my name will be equally happy when I fall in love with a real man, and not this puppet on a string, whose arm I’m holding.
We reach the podium, and someone shouts out, “Graham, I want to have your baby!”
There is some laughter from the crowd in the balcony, but those in attendance in the industry are mostly not amused.
Graham clears his throat, and his cheeks have pinked. Did he get embarrassed by that? Interesting.
When everything settles in the theater, Graham begins to speak.
“In the category of Best Leading Actress in a Limited or Short Series, the nominees are…”
“Olivia Chase for Christmas at Carson Pier,” I say, and there is a round of applause as the big screens show the woman, sitting among the crowd, smiling wide.
“Pauline O’Donnell for Love Is All Around - A Tale of Bravery,” Graham reads the second name, and I watch the monitor to see the face of the woman who is one of the spokespeople for my mother’s chain of spas.
“Gwendolyn Addams for Go Get ‘em, Tiger,” I say.
“Jacqueline Thomas for Once Upon a Valentine’s Day,” Graham quickly adds because there is someone making motions with their hands that we’re taking too long. As if an hour was the right amount of time to get to the fourth award, but now we must hurry.
“And Laura Gray for Letters from a Prison,” I add, my voice now shaking because the director of this shindig is staring at me as if this lapse in time is my fault.
“And the winner is...” Graham says as he hands me the envelope to open.
I pull the ribbon that lifts the seal and look down at the name.
“Olivia Chase for Christmas at Carson Pier,” I say, but Graham says it too, louder and enough to drown out my voice. What an asshat!
Olivia Chase stands up in the crowd, only a few seats from where Graham and I had been sitting. She hugs the people around her and then begins her walk toward us.
Her black skin shines with specks of gold glitter that match her dress. A long braid is draped over her bare and well-defined shoulder.
Graham moves toward her to give her a hand as she climbs the stairs, and she leans into him, kissing his cheek and lingering to whisper something at which his eyes flicker.
As she moves to the podium, I step back, but not before she scans a long look down the front of me, and then winks at Graham.
Graham moves in next to me, and now I can smell Olivia Chase’s perfume on him, and her lipstick is on his cheek. Talk about leaving a mark.
We stand there, smiling wide, as Olivia gives her speech. When she’s done, she turns to Graham and wraps herself around his arm as he escorts her from the stage with me following. Well, this is awkward. Surely someone who is promoting this stupid thought of us dating will pick up on this little thing between them and make it some kind of newsworthy event. It happens all the time.
He can be the asshole, and I’ll be the innocent bystander girlfriend who was blindsided.
As we clear the stage, Olivia whispers in Graham’s ear again, and he smiles. She’s then whisked away for photos.
“A bit intimate there,” I say as I move in next to him.
“Worried, sweetheart?” he says, enunciating his t”s as he did before.
“Why would I even care?”
“Why would you?”
Graham starts toward the back of the stage, and I follow. The last thing he’s going to do is ditch me now. He promised me an out, and I’m going to take it.