Saved by the Celebutante (9 page)

After a moment, I quietly step back so she can take center stage. She looks great tonight, in a floor length champagne-colored gown with long flowing sleeves and gold detailing at the cuffs and bust line. She has smoky eyes and her hair is styled to perfection. She is the epitome of the 1920s Hollywood starlet.

“Thank you everyone,” she says confidently. “As you all know, I have three gorgeous children, and they were key in my decision to develop this line of baby food. In the past, I have struggled to find products that are both affordable and appealing…”

I listen while she explains the philosophy behind her choices and why she settled on particular ingredients. I slip further into the background and sneak down the stairs to watch from the corner of the stage.

“Nice turn out,” a quiet voice says beside me.

I look to see who is addressing me and gasp.

“You’re Peter Carson!” I whisper excitedly.

He chuckles. “Last time I checked.”

“I love every movie you’ve directed! Although,
Christmas Eve
was my favorite. I was amazed at how you managed to switch between all those different viewpoints and still maintain a sense of each character…” I trail off, realizing I’m acting like a star-struck groupie.

“Why thank you, little lady. Working with that many celebrities was a challenge, let me tell you. Egos the size of Texas, the lot of them. But it was worth it in the end.” He smirks and I know it’s because he won an Oscar for the film.

“So what are you doing here? I don’t remember adding you to the guest list.”

“I’m actually casting for a film and I want Gia to audition.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Really? What kind of movie?”

Peter Carson is legendary, but you can never be too careful. What if he just wants to get her into bed?

He roars with laughter and then covers his mouth when a few people shoot him annoyed glances. “I love how you assume the worst,” he says, his voice low again. “That’s a sign of a good publicist looking out for her charge.”

I’m glad he finds it funny. I really do just want to make sure Gia makes good career decisions from now on.

“Okay. So what’s the movie and what’s the role?”

“It’s a biopic on the Kennedys, and I want Gia to play Marilyn.”

“Monroe?”

“The one and only.”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? I’ve been following Gia for a while, and I’ve always found her intriguing. But I’m particularly impressed with tonight.” He waves his hand around. “I assume you had something to do with it?”

“I just guided her in the right direction.”

“Come now. Don’t be so humble. It can’t be a coincidence this all happened once you became her publicist.”

Interesting. Peter Carson knows when I became Gia’s publicist. I’m flattered. “I just want to see her reach her full potential. I also wouldn’t mind if I made that deadbeat ex of hers regret how he treated her.”

“You don’t have to tell me about Jack Dean. I worked with him a while back, and excuse the language, but he was a complete asshole.”

I grin. “We’re on the same page then. So, how do you want to do this?”

“Give me your cell phone.”

I scramble around in my purse and hand it over. When someone like Peter Carson wants to give you his number, you don’t hesitate.

“You now have my direct line,” he says, handing back the phone. “Call me next week and we’ll set up the audition. I’ll have to convince a few people to go with Gia, but I’m confident they’ll see what I see.”

“Great. Thanks, Peter. It was nice of you to come tonight.”

“No problem. I have to go now, but pass on my best to Gia.”

“Will do.”

I watch him sneak out, scarcely believing what just took place. It takes a second for it to sink in, but then it finally hits me.

Peter Carson knows who I am and he wants to make Gia a star!

Can life get any better?

TEN

The night is a roaring success. Gia charms everyone, and several of the journalists promise prominent write-ups in their publications as they leave.

I spend the rest of the evening pandering to the B-list celebrities and making sure the food and alcohol don’t run out.

Just before midnight, I put Gia in a town car.

“You are the bestest publicist ever,” she gushes, pulling me awkwardly towards her and hugging me tightly. She seems to have gone a bit overboard with the champagne, despite my efforts to hide the alcohol after I noticed her getting tipsy. She tries to kiss me on the cheek, but ends up missing and almost falls out of the car.

“Go home and rest,” I urge. “You’ve had a big night.” I help her back into an upright position. She doesn’t yet know about the audition, but I don’t think now is the right time to tell her.

I farewell the remaining guests and make sure the hotel staff are happy for me to leave before I jump in a cab myself.

When I get home, the house is in full-party mode. To be honest, I was hoping I could just sneak off to bed, but as soon as I open the door, Brad staggers over and thrusts a beer into my hand.

“Hey! It’s my smokin’ hot roomie!” he slurs to everyone within earshot.

I am
not
in the mood to humor a bunch of crazy drunken twenty-somethings.

“Big night?” I ask.

“Yup! Party of the century! And it’s even better now that you’re here.”

“I’m sure you have enough girls around to entertain you already,” I say. “Like, I don’t know…maybe Becky?”

It turns out that Becky – the girl who texted Brad when I first looked at the house – thinks she’s Brad’s girlfriend. I am almost certain the feelings aren’t reciprocated, but I’m trying not to get involved because I have enough problems of my own.

“Becky has to work tomorrow, so she left at eleven. Party pooper.”

“And Will?”

“Will’s still at work. To tell you the truth, I’m kind of glad. He’s been acting weird lately. Do you know what’s up with him?”

“Maybe you should ask
him
. But did it ever occur to you that since he got fired by his
celebrity boss
he might be a bit down?”

He doesn’t make the connection. “Nah. Maybe he just hasn’t gotten laid in a while?”

I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“Anyway, look at you, all fancy.” He wolf whistles as his eyes wander slowly up my body. I shrug. I’m only wearing a simple black lace dress with three quarter sleeves and a knee length hem. I suppose I did spend a bit more time on my hair and makeup than usual, so that might be why he’s making a fuss. Not that I’m going to take him seriously, considering how intoxicated he is.

“Oh, look at you,” he laughs. “Pretending to be all
what? This old thing?
” He puts on a campy lisp and pretends to flick an imaginary ponytail over his shoulder.

“I don’t sound like that,” I protest.

“You totally do.” He puts his arm around me and drags me into the living room, where at least fifteen people are sitting around in various states of inebriation.

“Come and meet the gang,” he says.

I feel like I’m back in college, but I guess it’s preferable to be being surrounded by married couples.

“Hey everyone, this is my roomie, Chrissie. We used to work together and she is a kick-ass PR guru.”

A few people smile and wave. They seem like a friendly bunch.

Brad turns back to me. “So how was your thing with Kahlua tonight?”

“She’s Gia now, remember? But she’s good. The launch went really well.”

“I knew it would. You are so classy.” He rubs my shoulder.

“Stop it.” I playfully smack his hand.

“What? Is there some rule about roommates not being able to touch?”

“Would you do the same to Will?”

“I might. But I’m not sure he’d appreciate it.”

“Well, don’t just assume
I’d
appreciate it either. Anyway, does he know I work for Gia?”

“Why should he?” Then it finally dawns on him. “Oh, right. It could be really awkward if he found out, huh?”

“You think? Why didn’t you tell me before I moved in?”

“I guess I forgot. But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” He pretends to zip his lips.

“What am I supposed to tell him I do?”

“I dunno. Make something up.”

“I’m not good at lying.”

“Don’t worry. He probably won’t ask. He’s more interested in other things, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, unfortunately I do.”

“Anyway, enough about boring old Will. I want to introduce you to these two.” He shoves me in front of two guys.

“This is Frank and Danny. You might feel more comfortable hanging out with them.” He leans over and whispers loudly in my ear. “They’re over thirty.”

I pretend to be impressed. “Wow. Over thirty, huh? I guess we’re all just counting the days until retirement, then.”

Frank looks at Brad, pretending to be insulted. “Thanks, dude. Remind me not to call you the next time I need a wingman.”

Brad winks at me. “I’ll leave you guys to get acquainted.”

I stand there awkwardly. I’m not sure what Brad is expecting me to do. Danny has red hair and almost see-through skin. His face looks friendly. Frank also looks friendly, but slick too. His almost black eyes make me jittery.

“So I suppose we should talk about 401ks and funeral plans?” I quip.

“If it makes you feel any better, you don’t look over thirty,” Danny says politely.

“That’s sweet of you to say, but I don’t really mind being thirty-five. I mean, I’m not exactly where I thought I would be at this point in my life, but I wouldn’t trade it in for being twenty-five again. Can you imagine? Finishing college, having no money, living one day to the next without any thought for the future…” I contemplate what I’m saying. It’s not like I’m loaded now. And it might actually be beneficial for my sanity if I just took it one day at a time for the next few months. Maybe twenty-five isn’t all that different. The thought is actually quite depressing.

“I know what you mean,” Frank says, apparently not catching my now conflicted expression. “I finally have a good job, I own an apartment, and I can afford to go on vacation a couple of times a year…”

Danny laughs. “Well, I’m never going to grow up. If anyone asks from now on, I’m twenty-seven.”

Frank rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to me. “You’re not married?”

“Separated. You?”

“Never married. But I was engaged once. For about three years until she decided I wasn’t ambitious enough, so she left. It’s funny that she’s now with a guy who earns less than I do.”

“You’re better off without her,” I say sympathetically.

“Yeah, it’s easy to say, but harder to actually believe, don’t you think?”

I nod emphatically. “Very much so.”

I’m just thinking how comforting it is to talk to a guy my own age, and one who has been through a similar situation to me, when I hear my name being called.

“Chrissie! I need your help for a second!” It’s Brad yelling from down the hall.

I smile apologetically. “Be back in a moment.”

I hurry towards the sound of his voice and find Brad on the floor in his room. He appears to have his leg wedged under the bed.

“What are you doing?” I ask, bewildered.

“I’m stuck,” he whines. “Help me out?”

I laugh. “How did you end up there in the first place?”

“I was getting my…er…stash, and when I kicked the box back under, I slipped.”

“You are so weird. Well, maybe I should go get one of the guys. They’re stronger than me.”

“No! It’s embarrassing! I don’t want anyone else seeing me like this. Come on, I have faith in you.”

I sigh. “The things I do for you.” I bend down and attempt to dislodge his leg. “I think if we just roll it this way…”

He screeches in pain. “Nooo!”

“Sorry, sorry. How about if I gently slide it…”

“Yeah, that’s better.”

“We might have to cut off your pants,” I joke.

“Fine with me, baby.”

“Stop it. I was kidding. What would Becky say?”

“Why would Becky say anything? She’s cool.”

“I think she thinks you’re her boyfriend.”

“It’s not like that…”

I pull one final time and his leg comes free, but I lose my balance in the process and fall on top of him.

“Ahem!”

We both look up and see Becky glaring at us from the doorway.

“Having fun?” she asks bitterly.

I scramble to my feet feeling guilty, even though I have no reason to be.

Brad continues to lie on the floor, rubbing his leg.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks.

“I forgot my phone. What the hell, Brad? Are you fucking her too?”

“No! Of course not! She’s my roommate! And she’s thirty-five!”

She looks at me, her eyes full of spite. “Oh, that’s right. And didn’t you turn your husband gay?”

I gasp. “Hey…” And then I turn to Brad. I told him about Corey in confidence. Why would he tell Becky?

Brad shoots me a remorseful look and then glares at Becky. “Becky! That was uncalled for. Apologize now.”

“Nope.” She stalks over to the dresser where her phone is lying, snatches it up and leaves.

I sink down onto the floor with my back against the wall.

“Sorry about that,” Brad murmurs.

I stare straight ahead. “I just don’t know why you had to tell her about Corey.”

“I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out when we were talking the other day.”

“Well, I guess you don’t care about me anyway. I’m too old.”

“Listen, I totally don’t think you’re old. It was a stupid thing for me to say. I just don’t know how to handle Becky. She confuses me.” He pounds the floor. “Fuck!”

I look out the window, trying desperately not to cry. I can’t stay here in the same room with Brad. I go to stand up.

“Hey, don’t leave like this. Chrissie, you are an awesome chick and I love having you as my roomie. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” I say resignedly. “Just a bit sad.”

He crawls over so that we’re sitting shoulder to shoulder.

“Can I tell you something? I always thought you were way out of my league. Even if you weren’t married.’

I laugh. “Right.”

“I’m serious. You are so hot and confident, and you’re amazing at your job…”

“Okay, you can stop now.”

He rubs my arm, and before I know what’s happening, he’s cupping my face with his hands and planting a kiss softly on my mouth.

Time stops, and I melt into the moment, enjoying the feeling of his lips on mine for a split second. And then I come to my senses.

I push him away and stand up. “I have to go.”

He smiles lazily. “Great kisser too.”

I hurry to my bedroom and close the door. I flop down on my bed and stare at the ceiling, full of confusion.

What the hell did I just do?