The Accidental Movie Star (23 page)

Ashley nodded. On her way up the carpet, she ran into several other people she’d worked with, and they chatted about the crowd and expectations for the film. If they knew she’d gotten fired, no one brought it up, so Ashley relaxed and began to enjoy herself more. No doubt her minor set drama was nothing compared to what they saw every day at work. And Powder had said it had been glossed over.

Ashley knew more people than she thought she would and welcomed seeing most of them. Boomer’s sheer size made him easy to spot, but she almost didn’t recognize him in sleeves. Ashley hugged him and complimented his suit. “Powder told me you got a part in Petra’s next film.”

Boomer looked down and she’d have sworn he blushed. “They came to sign her, and I was doing some sound work nearby. They thought I’d be good for a small part.”

“You’ll be great.”

Boomer grinned and cocked his head, back to his normal, confident self. “That’s because I’ll be traveling with the side arms.” He curled his biceps for her. “Loaded with bullets.”

“Okay, yeah, see ya later.” Ashley patted him on his impressive bicep, and moved a few steps down the red carpet. Halfway down, she ran into the director.

She stopped and her face flushed. They last time they’d been face-to-face, he’d fired her from the film.

Nothing showed on his face but welcome. He pulled away from the couple he was speaking with and leaned down to hug her. “Hi. What do you think of all this?”

Ashley breathed out a sigh of relief. Good. No trouble. She said truthfully, “It’s exciting.”

“A lot of what you did really worked and we used it.”

“Cool.”

“See you inside.”

Ashley took that as her cue to leave. She walked along toward the building, glad they’d come early so she had a chance to catch up with people. This was turning out okay.

Up ahead stood Cutter, hair coiffed in a perfect swoop, wearing a shiny purple suit with trousers cuffed high over brown loafers. Cutter reached out a hand and grabbed her arm. His eyes looked glittery and they shifted around the crowd. He leaned close, and his voice sounded thin, strained. “He’s here, have you seen him?”

Her heart thumped. “Who?”

Cutter’s hand tightened until it hurt against her arm, and his face flushed. “Harlon Ramonannini.”

Ashley shook loose. “No.”

“Yes!” Cutter moaned. “He’s going to see. He’s going to know I recut his wedding dress.” Cutter crossed his arms over his chest.

Ah. Ashley realized the reason for Cutter’s panic—the bridal gown flounce alteration. “You made the dress drape better.” She gentled her tone to reassure him.

Desperation flashed in his eyes, and Cutter’s voice took on a hysterical edge. “You know nothing,” he said and dashed away.

If the yells of the fans were any indication, more stars had arrived. Things were heating up on the red carpet, so she knew it was time to make her way inside. She wanted to see Caz more than anything, but she also didn’t want to see him. Maybe she’d catch him inside, and they could share a quiet, civil moment away from the commotion. Dad said that the movie premiere’s auditorium sat about a thousand people. In that large a crowd, she may not even see the back of his head. Had Caz brought a date? Would he—?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand on her arm and a heavy accent. “Score.”

“Excuse me?” Ashley pulled free of Garrett’s hold.

“I told Caz I’d find you.” Garrett tilted his head at a confident angle. His shorter hair stopped inches from the collar of his tuxedo jacket. Under it, he wore an off-white shirt untucked over his blue kilt. “He’s looking all over the place for you.”

“You’re talking to Caz?”

Garrett grinned big. “Yeah, we’re great mates again.” He threw an arm around her shoulders, keeping her in place, close enough that the wool fabric of his kilt brushed her fingers. “Caz called in his marker and I’m about to deliver.” Using the pressure of his big arm against her shoulders, Garrett turned her back into the crowd.

They made up? Good. Ashley tried to duck under his heavy arm. “I’m just going inside.”

His arm didn’t move. “Nope, I owe him, and there he is.” Garrett pointed with his free hand. Looking over, Ashley saw a dark-suited Caz shaking hands and signing autographs with the fans behind the rope. He looked wonderful, his hair slightly longer, streaked. A security guard with an earpiece flanked him, and his thin agent, dressed in a dark pantsuit, trailed close by.

Garrett forced her straight toward Caz with no intention of stopping. “Come on, then, before he goes mental.”

Ashley stumbled in her tall, strappy heels. “Slow down. He’s working, we can’t—”

Garrett lowered his arm to her waist, ignored her protests, and propelled her forward until she stood within a foot of Caz.

Shouts of “Caspian” came from the crowd. It was deafening, like the day they first met, but even louder.

“Here she is, mate.” Garrett clamped a hand on Caz’s shoulder. His arm dropped from her waist. Caz turned at the touch and he faced her. His blue-green eyes searched hers.

Garrett said, “I’ll leave you to it, then. I want to do my duty and get inside before all the finger foods disappear. I hear they have puff pastries with crab and capers.” He swaggered to the roped-off fans.

The lights hit her eyes and she blinked against the white spots. She dug in her purse for her sunglasses and shoved them on. The camera flashes intensified now that she was this close to Caz.
This was too much. It was time to head for the entrance.

Caz stepped close and grabbed her hand. The crowd continued its chanting roar. “Caspian!”

Ashley quickly pulled free of his grip.

“Wait.”

Ashley couldn’t really hear the word but she read it on his lips. “Inside,” she said. “I’ll see you inside.”

His agent gestured toward a dais set up for interviews.

Caz shook his head at her. “Just a minute.”

Ashley looked over her shoulder toward the premiere entrance.

Caz put his mouth against her ear and kind of yelled, “Please wait. I’m talking to Garrett, did you see?”

Be gracious and distant, she told herself. Stay out of his personal life. She’d practiced the words at home and on the plane a number of times. She was going to say that he looked great and wish him luck on the film. Putting her mouth to his ear, Ashley said instead, “I’m glad.” She breathed in the fragrance of his ocean shower gel, and calmed. “No, sorry, um, I meant good luck on the film. It’s good to see you again. I’ll catch you later.”

His agent moved in. “You’re scheduled to—”

“A minute,” Caz said urgently.

His agent touched Caz’s elbow. “She can stay with us, but we have to move forward.”

Caz shook his head and folded his arm, staying put.

His agent turned to Ashley. “Nice to see you again, Ashley, but you’re causing a delay.” Her tone didn’t sound like it was nice to see her again.

Familiar with Caz’s stubborn streak, Ashley said, “Sure, which way?” She nodded toward the agent, indicating she should lead.

Caz clenched his hands and followed them. Two paces in, he unclenched one and reached for her hand. Ashley stayed out of his reach. He moved closer until they reached the steps that led up to a platform.

Petra stood on top, being interviewed. She wore a fuchsia-colored dress, and a matching, jeweled hairclip that held back half of her dark hair. Swiveling her hips, she swept her train into one hand and held the skirts toward the reporter. If looks were anything to go by, the interviewer was getting a rundown about each thread.

An assistant wearing an earpiece held up a hand in Caz’s direction.

“Promise me you’ll wait,” Caz said.

Ashley looked around. A lot of people were headed for the auditorium. “Um.”

“You have to promise me, or I walk out, and leave with you now.”

Sometimes he could be very British and understated. That was how he gave the illusion that he was normal—not tonight though. He’d had weeks to call her, and he wanted to talk while they were on the red carpet with a million eyes and cameras on them.

“Promise me,” Caz said.

“I promise.”

Caz lifted her sunglasses to look in her eyes.

“I promise. Go.”

Caz put a warm hand to the side of her face and whispered in her ear. “I hoped you’d be here.”

“They’re ready for you, Mr. Thaymore.”

Caz’s hand slowly fell from Ashley’s cheek and he jogged up the steps to join Petra and the interviewer. Petra hooked her arm through his.

The crowd chanted, “CasPet, CasPet.” Petra waved to the crowd.

Caz didn’t turn. He faced the reporter and spoke into a microphone, and it was only a few minutes before he jogged back down to her. Petra remained on the platform, still talking.

Caz took her hand in his. “Okay, then, let’s get inside.”

Ashley tugged against his hold, but he wouldn’t release her. The more the cameras flashed, the more she pulled, a smile pasted on her lips to keep up impressions. Realizing he wasn’t going to let go, Ashley stopped the struggle and said through her smile, “What are you doing?” She hoped he could hear her over the crowd.

Caz leaned closer. “I can demonstrate better if you want.” He tilted his head.

Her heart thumped and Ashley jerked quickly back. “No. Inside.”

Someone pushed in from behind her, propelling her into Caz’s hard body. Caz stopped her fall.

“Excuse me.” The redheaded Lorene pushed past them dressed in a green hoop-skirted dress, à la Scarlett O’Hara, and climbed the steps. When she reached the top, she put her hands on her hips.

Petra finished answering her interview question before facing Lorene.

Lorene shouted, “You stole my part.” The words were loud enough that anyone below the dais could hear.

Petra touched her fingertips to her chest, in a
who me
gesture. Lorene narrowed in.

The security guard left Caz’s side and took the steps two at a time. Lorene pushed Petra. Petra hit the rail and the metal framework shook. After pausing in a carefully draped pose, Petra lunged forward and shoved back. The camera moved in for a close-up.

Lorene said, “The bikini ski instructor gig was mine.”

Petra formed her hands around imaginary skis and pushed off. Lorene screamed. The suited security guard grabbed her and dragged her wriggling, protesting body out of view.

Petra put a limp hand on her forehead and glided back to the interviewer, leaning into the microphone.

Caz’s agent rushed forward. “Go up there. See if Petra’s okay.”

“She’s fine,” Caz said.

“You’re co-stars. Go.” His agent took out a cigarette.

Caz shook his head.

“You owe it to the film.”

Caz stiffened and his fingers tightened against Ashley’s fingers. “The film is complete. The interviews are complete. My owing them anything is over.”

The agent dug for her lighter. She didn’t light the cigarette, but she tapped the end against the top of the lighter. “Ashley, you don’t mind waiting, do you? I need to speak to Caspian about this opportunity.”

“I—” Ashley didn’t get to finish her sentence before Caz got between her and the agent.

“You’re fired.”

His agent narrowed her eyes and lit her cigarette, but she didn’t say anything, just sucked in a deep draw of the cigarette and exhaled the acrid smoke.

Caz said nothing more; he turned to the entrance of the theater, leading Ashley by the hand. Numerous people tried to stop him for a chat, but Caz made them walk and talk because he didn’t pause for anyone. Inside, the lobby was almost as loud, with everyone excited to see the film.

Caz said, “When we were in the car, in front of your house in Houston, I knew.”

Ashley ignored him and said, “You just fired your agent.”

Caz rolled his shoulders. “Yeah.” His eyes looked out to the horizon before turning back to her. “I should have followed you into your house.”

A studio executive pushed his way between them to shake Caz’s hand. “Looking forward to the film.”

“Thanks,” Caz said, and the man moved on.

“What does that mean?” Ashley said.

The AD interrupted them next. He’d trimmed his goatee short and looked as tense as he’d looked on set. After shaking Caz’s hand, he offered a handshake to Ashley. She shook awkwardly with her left hand because Caz still refused to relinquish her right.

The AD said, “Evening. You two excited to see the final cut?”

“Absolutely,” Ashley said.

Caz gave a small nod.

“Great,” the AD said. “You’re going to love it.”

A woman wearing a suit joined them, saying something about high pre-sale ticket records. The greetings weren’t going to stop coming. The premiere was an impossible place for a private conversation.

Caz headed from the lobby to the entrance of the auditorium. “Caspian Thaymore, plus one,” he said to the usher. The theater was a large typical stadium-style movie theater. The air even had that faint, popcorn-lives-here smell. The bright wall sconces lit the darkness so people could find their seats. The usher led them to the middle section.

“Thanks,” Ashley told the usher.

“I went by your house earlier, hoping you’d be in town for the premiere, but you weren’t, and your dad wouldn’t give me any details.”

“He’s protective.” Ashley pulled at his hand.

“I missed you,” Caz said, keeping his voice low. “I know I screwed up.”

“I get it. I do,” Ashley said. “So many people used you all summer, in so many ways. That’s your life. How could you not, how could you—”

Caz cut her off with his kiss. It felt familiar, exciting. His kiss had the power to shut off her thoughts. Pulling back, he laid his free hand against her face. “I wanted to call for Christmas, but I didn’t, and things were crap at home. My dad came back, and he’s already left again.”

“Are you mad at him for leaving, or your mom for taking him back?”

“Both.”

Ashley swallowed. “Did you find out who did the press leaks?”

“Petra and my driver. My agent too.”

She gaped at him. “All of them?”

“It’s why it never made sense before, because it was all these random locations, and you were the only one who knew them all.”