Now a Major Motion Picture (39 page)

Reese studied her face, and Amelia could tell it gave away too much.

“I think you should talk to him.”

“Not this again.” Amelia sighed. “Reese, it ended a long time ago.
We
ended a long time ago. I can’t talk to him. Besides, he might have broken up with his girlfriend, but I have a boyfriend.”

And I love him
, she added silently.
So why should I care whether or not Noah’s single?

She was focusing all her energy into not answering that question when her phone buzzed beside her, snapping her back to reality. The car would arrive any minute, and Colin was on his way down. She uncrossed her legs, her right foot tingling from being locked in wired movement for too long.

She stretched it out as she waited and relaxed her tense features into a smile for Colin when he appeared at the curve of the stairwell. The grin that spread across his face when he caught a glimpse of her in her Chanel dress—tightly fitted, with an overlay of antique lace and delicately beaded straps—caused her smile to widen and become genuine.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said in a husky voice, running down the bottom few steps and offering a hand to help her up. He pulled her against his side and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek—careful, she noticed, not to mess up her expertly made-up lips.

He’s used to this
, she thought. And she wasn’t. She tried not to dwell on the thousands of eyes and camera lenses that would be trained on them tonight. He held the door open for her, and she passed through it ahead of him, walking slowly down his front steps in her impossibly high heels.

Together, they entered the limo that would usher them to the red carpet. To screaming fans. To waiting interviewers. To a night of indescribable pre-movie mayhem that thrilled and terrified Amelia to her core.

Home Matters

Two days later, she woke to the familiar trill of her own alarm clock. She reached over to turn it off and then let her head fall back onto her pillow, relishing the feel of her own mattress, her own sheets. She breathed in deep as she looked around at her cream walls, her quirky, curated hodge-podge of furnishings that spoke volumes about who she was.
I haven’t lost myself.
The relief of that thought nearly choked her with emotion. Her life was so different now. Better in most ways, worse in a few, but mainly just…different.
She
was different.

In the past year she’d learned so much about herself, about what she liked and didn’t like, what she wanted. The harder people pulled on her and the more she was given, the more she realized how much the simple things in life meant to her—the people who loved her, the comforts of home. For so long, she’d been running away from things or chasing things. And now she knew—knew—she had everything in life any normal person could want. She recognized it, felt it, forced herself to drink it in.

So why was she still running? What was still missing?
Life is funny
, she thought. You chased something so hard for so long, and then once you finally had it, you didn’t enjoy it as much as you thought you would because you were already chasing the next thing.

She rose from her bed, pushing these thoughts from her head as she tugged at her sheets and coverlet, reveling in the simple act of arranging pillows against the headboard.

Unfortunately this was just a short stop on her publicity schedule. She’d only get one more night in this warm, cozy nest before she’d have to fly away again—literally—for more events and more interviews. But at least she was here now. At least, in a couple of hours, she’d get to hang out again with Reese and Brooke. Amelia was picking Brooke up at the airport and then meeting Reese for lunch before the three of them got ready for a different type of premiere, one that hovered closer to the bounds of Amelia’s comfort zone.

She took another long look around her room, savoring all the little details she’d missed these past few weeks. Her eyes lit on a quilt Brooke had made when she briefly took up the hobby—it was folded over a bench Amelia had bought at a yard sale and reupholstered herself. Under the window was the old French armchair Laura had passed on to Amelia when she’d bought her house. Its fabric was a little worn, a little dated, but she couldn’t bring herself to replace it—it was a little piece of Laura, and she was instantly transported back to her grandma’s sitting room every time she looked at it. She studied the dresser she’d found in a Midtown antiques shop. Its robin’s-egg blue paint was scuffed and dinged from years of actual wear, not from a distressed factory finish. It was real, she thought. Nothing glossy, nothing phony about it.

This room, this whole house, was real, and it was
her
. All of her recent, frenzied travel had made her homesick, which she knew was making her overly sentimental, but she could see herself in every inch of the space that surrounded her.

She pictured Colin’s polished master suite, which couldn’t be more different than this cozy, cluttered room.
I could never feel comfortable in that gigantic house. This is where I belong.

She knew it, and being here, she felt it with a calm certainty. Still, she’d been considering Colin’s proposition. More than considering it—she’d been trying to force herself to want what he was offering.

But the simple fact was…she didn’t.

And she knew nobody would understand that, not Brooke, not Reese—well, maybe Reese—but nobody else. She knew millions of women would kill to be in her position, and she felt like maybe something was wrong with her that she hadn’t jumped to claim this amazing prize life had offered her. But she
didn’t want it
. And trying to force herself to want it felt like trying to cram her foot into Cinderella’s slipper when she was really just another guest at the ball. Like forcing herself to be someone she was not.

But I love Colin. Don’t I? And if I do, shouldn’t he matter more than me?
Her cheeks burned as she realized with a start how selfish she was being. The feeling was fleeting, though, because Colin was being selfish, too.

He didn’t get it. He was so accustomed to getting his way that he didn’t understand in the slightest why she wouldn’t drop everything she knew to rush across the country and live with him. For a few seconds she simmered in the unfairness of his expectation. Why was this so important to him, anyway? She thought about the stories she’d read that accused her and Colin of using their relationship to further their own careers—him to sell more movie tickets, her to sell more books. She knew that wasn’t her motivation, but what were Colin’s motivations? Was he with her because he truly loved her, or was it something else? Her mind flashed to those photos of Colin snuggled up with Nathalie in the New York club. No matter where she lived, Colin would be away from her most of the time. Would he spend those hours away from her breaking her heart behind her back?

She still hadn’t told him about her doubts or fears because she knew he’d be smooth and charming and winning, and she knew he’d talk her out of them. And she didn’t
want
to be talked out of them.

She simply couldn’t
breathe
in L.A.—the city made her feel like she was trapped in a giant cage.
Colin’s house, especially, was like an elaborate birdcage, hard to break into, but also hard to break out of…a sanctuary and a jail cell rolled into one pristine, picturesque package.

She tried to imagine Colin moving into her little house instead. The idea was so laughable that she thought maybe she should take that tack to try to make him understand.
As if.
She laughed out loud as she imagined his reaction.

No, Colin’s lifestyle was set, his path determined. If anyone had to bend his or her will to make the other happy, it was her. And she could admit that Colin was right in one way—something had to give. A relationship like theirs couldn’t happen over the phone, not anymore. It was time to hit either the accelerator or the brakes, and she was terrified her foot was stretching in the direction of the latter.

What’s wrong with me? Will I ever have a normal relationship?
Am
I scared of commitment?
She’d never thought so, but maybe that was it. If she wasn’t satisfied with Colin—gorgeous, funny, attentive Colin, adored by millions—maybe no one would satisfy her.

Her stomach twisted into a knot as a face that wasn’t Colin’s flashed behind her eyes. She shoved away the impossible image, her mind wheeling as she thought again, impetuously, that maybe she
should
move in with Colin
.
After all, big rewards didn’t come without big risks. She’d never know whether she and Colin were meant for each other unless she allowed their relationship to move forward.

A shiver raced through her body. The thought of saying yes to his offer was terrifying to her, and not in that good, tingly sort of way. She wasn’t ready for this, not now. Maybe not ever.

All this time, Amelia had been moving around her room, making her bed, picking up the clothes she’d shed the night before, moving items from her open suitcase to her laundry hamper, dreading the fact that she’d be packing the suitcase again the very next day.

She shook her head, deciding she was taking herself too seriously.
I don’t have to have all the answers right now.
It wasn’t as if Colin had asked her to marry him.

She moved into her bathroom and turned on the shower. As she turned her face up into the hot stream of water, she closed her eyes and forced herself to forget about everything except lunch with Reese and Brooke. She was nervous about what was coming later, but that was later. For the next several hours, she’d be talking and laughing and hanging out with her two favorite women in the world.

Colin’s flight would land right about the time she and Reese and Brooke finished up at the salon. And then she’d step back onto the roller coaster.

The movie wouldn’t launch nationwide until the next day, but it was launching in Memphis tonight, and it was just for her. In just a few short hours she and Colin would be on the red carpet again for a special screening in her beloved city.

* * *

When the limo door opened, Amelia braced herself. Sure enough, the screaming, cheering, and squealing hit a high-pitched crescendo as soon as the fans packed against the velvet ropes caught a glimpse of who was inside the car.

This is so surreal.
The L.A. premiere had been madness, utter mayhem. She’d expected that. But this was
Memphis
. Her Memphis. How many times had she gotten in and out of cars in this city?

Granted, she’d never gotten out of a car in Memphis quite like this. As her eyes adjusted from the dark interior of the car, she glanced back at Colin, who was poised to exit the limo right behind her, looking smashing in his crisp, black suit. She smiled dizzily and then took the hand being offered by the chauffer who’d opened the door with a flourish. As she emerged from the vehicle, a few hundred flashbulbs blinded her, and the pandemonium of frenzied fans put her thoughts in a muddled tailspin.

She barely felt her feet as they crossed over the red carpet that had been rolled out for tonight’s event. As she and Colin made their way forward, stopping every few inches to sign autographs, pose for photos, and interact with the enormous crowd—it seemed as if the entire city had come out to greet them tonight—she smiled until her cheeks were numb and waited for the insanity to end.

The atmosphere was electric, as intense as Tuesday’s L.A. premiere had been. She was shocked by that—she’d expected tonight to feel laid-back by comparison. She wondered briefly where Reese, David, and her mom were. They’d driven up right behind her and Colin and, though they’d also traversed the red carpet, she was sure they were already inside the theater, snug and safe and free from all this chaos.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she and Colin finally approached the theater doors, and she stopped automatically to pose for pictures at the “step and repeat,” a splashy board covered in the studio’s logo that was set up beside the entrance as a photo backdrop. As Colin did the same, Amelia paused to answer questions being thrown in her direction by a small gaggle of reporters. She recognized a couple of the local ones from her years of working with Memphis media, and that fact relieved some of the tension she always felt in these microphone-in-her-face situations.

Before she knew it, they’d entered the comparatively quiet theater and were closed off from the screams and catcalls outside. It was a private screening, and in this case, private meant their party had the entire cinema complex to themselves. Around a hundred people were crammed into the lobby, among them her family, friends, and various city leaders and supporters of her books. As soon as Amelia was inside, she began to scan the room for Reese.

She finally spotted her in the center of the room doing the same thing. Once they’d locked eyes, Reese ran over and grabbed Amelia by the hand, tugging her toward the ladies’ room at the far end of the lobby. Reese glanced around and started talking so rapidly in such a low voice that Amelia struggled to catch a word of it.

“What?” She shook her head and cupped a hand around her ear. It had been ages since she’d seen Reese so worked up.

Reese rolled her eyes exasperatedly as she pulled Amelia through the crowd and started over. All Amelia heard was, “You’re not going to believe who’s—” before Colin appeared at her side, cutting Reese off mid-sentence.

“There you are,” he said, linking her arm with his. “Hi, Reese.”

“Hi.” Reese smiled brightly at Colin, but shot a wistful glance in Amelia’s direction.

Before Amelia could stop it, she and Colin were engulfed by a swarm of people demanding their attention. She looked around apologetically, but she didn’t see Reese again until after an announcement was made that the screening was about to start. She entered the theater with Colin at her side, and though Reese sat just two seats away from her in the theater, on the other side of Colin, she didn’t say another word about whatever it was that had her so agitated. Before long, Amelia forgot all about it.