Spin Control (9 page)

"A, Michael and I have to do a Devin thing, and B,
she didn't mean it-my guess is that famous people
just say that stuff to make the common folk feel special.
However-and this is a big however-if she does happen to shatter the mold and follow through, then you
should go in my stead"

"Woo-hoo!" Anna shrieked. "I owe you big time."

"Eh," I shrugged. "I should get started on work"

"Good luck with your new best friend. I'll call to
check in later."

I hung up the phone and watched through the doorway of my office as Miranda parted ways with Michael
and gave Gwen a big hug good-bye, despite the fact that
the two had presumably just met. Maybe Anna was
right-this might be someone who lived up to the favorable reputation the press has provided. And she was
more than nice to me, even after she found out from
Michael about yesterday afternoon. What exactly did
he tell her, anyway? All good things, she said. Huh. I
wonder what that meant. Not that I care or anything.

44On behalf of Hotel Bella, Inc., I present the Children's Cancer Center with this check for $10,000."
Turning to smile for the cameras, Devin handed the
check to the surprised chair of the event. He received a
standing ovation as he posed for pictures with the event
co-chairs and cancer survivors with whom he shared
the stage.

I leaned over to Michael, who was standing next to
me in the back of the banquet room where this fundraiser was taking place. "Devin genuinely seems to enjoy being here," I murmured.

"The event isn't done yet," he said with a raised tone.

"I don't think it would hurt to cut him some slack."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Why the sudden change
of heart?"

I looked at him skeptically. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't seem to be his biggest fan as of two days
ago, that's all."

Wow, working with Devin was making me testier
than I realized. "Look, if we're not optimistic about the
potential for this personality transformation, then
others-particularly the press-could pick up on it.
Besides, it's all I can do to talk myself into it, so just
play along."

Michael nodded. "You're right, you're right. I apologize. I'm just a little edgy today."

"Why's that?"

"Oh, Miranda and I were up most of the night catching up" My heart leapt, but I ignored it. Why should I
care that "old friends" were catching up? "She really
liked you."

"Why? Was it the bad hair, the archaic outfit, or the
crooked eyeglasses?"

Michael gave a half-grin. "Don't worry about it. You
looked good. No, she was really sincere about doing
dinner tonight. Since we couldn't go to dinner, she
wants us to get together with her afterward."

I looked up at the stage, where Devin was still
schmoozing. "What about him? Don't you think we
should keep an eye on him after the event? I am willing
to hang around if you want to do the party thing with
Miranda"

"I don't think that's a good idea, the two of you
alone," Michael said hastily. He must have seen the perturbed look on my face, because he recanted. "I didn't
mean it like that. Since he still has that lounge lizard thing going on, I wouldn't want you to have to try to
rein him in. It wouldn't be fair to you. Why don't we
talk him into coming along with us? That way we can
still have some fun and keep him in our sights."

Oh, yes, that's how I wanted to spend a Friday night:
surrounded by an ex-boyfriend, a colleague, and a gorgeous actress.

The crowd at the fund-raiser started to dissipate.
"So, did I meet your approval?" Devin winked at me
and outwardly ignored Michael's presence.

"Yes. In fact, you seemed to really enjoy yourself up
there"

"Whatever," Devin said flippantly. "Just get me out
of this monkey suit so I can get on with my weekend."

I pulled Devin aside. "Hey, I thought that you were
on board with the changes we had discussed earlier
this week."

"I am. That doesn't mean I can't go out and party a
little bit, does it?"

"It's this kind of attitude that is unacceptable. And
by the way, it's really starting to annoy me," I said in a
loud whisper.

Devin smirked and squeezed my shoulder. "Whatever you say. You're the boss." I caught Michael rolling
his eyes. He stepped over to us.

"Devin, Kate and I are going to a private party, and
we think you should come with us."

"Yawn." He fiddled with his cuff links. "Sounds like
a lot of shuffleboard and cribbage."

"Believe it or not, it's a cast party. Miranda Hamilton
will be there," Michael said nonchalantly.

Devin slowly nodded as a sly grin spread across his
face. "I could do that"

"Hmph!" I said a little louder than I wanted to. Both
Devin and Michael looked at me, then turned back to
each other.

"You know, it's only about ten blocks from here.
Want to walk with us?" Michael suggested.

"Well, I really don't want to wear this out on the
town," Devin said as he looked at his suit, "but if it
means getting to a hottie like Miranda Hamilton a little
sooner, then yes, I'll go"

We exited the event center and headed toward the
party. I purposely fell behind Devin and brought
Michael with me so we could talk.

"Why did you throw Miranda out there like bait?" I
asked him. "Isn't this a little counterproductive?"

"It worked, didn't it? Trust me, she won't be interested in him."

"Why? Is she seeing someone?" I tried to act casual.

"Nah, I don't think so. But I guarantee that Devin is
not Miranda's type"

Lux, the bar that was hosting the party, was quintessential New York: good fashion (lots of tight-fitting
shirts on both the men and the women), good music (a
DJ in the middle of the dance floor spinning techno
beats), great-looking people (need I say more?). The
tall, midnight-blue booths and opaque tabletops were
part old-school diner, part The Jetsons. From the moment I walked in, I feared that we had brought Devin
into his personal Mecca, but Michael assured me that it would be fine, as long as we were on our toes. On our
toes. Easy for him to say. I did not have a good feeling
about the evening, and all I wanted to do was go home,
put on my robe, and watch some Friday-night stand-up
comedy on TV.

I had called Anna on our way to the bar to invite her
along, so I kept one eye on the door and another on
Devin, since Michael had left to find Miranda. Devin
and I found a spot at one of bars. He bought me a gin
and tonic, but I refused. "Sorry, can't drink. I'm on the
clock."

"Hey, how come you never returned my message?
Couldn't pry yourself off of Lover Boy?"

My jaw tightened. "Why do you care? Not that I
even owe you an explanation, but he and I are as platonic as you and I are."

"Is that how you describe us, platonic?" Devin spoke
methodically, as if he were doing a guest spot on a soap
opera. Thankfully, I saw Anna enter the party; I had
never been so excited to see her. I waved her over.

She didn't even acknowledge Devin's presence,
which made me gleeful. I heard Michael shouting my
name over the house music. I turned to see Miranda,
wearing a black strapless minidress with black Jimmy
Choos with four-inch heels, at least. Before I could
even react, Miranda walked up and gave me a hug. "It's
so good to see you again, Kate! You look fantastic."

Glad somebody noticed. I wore a cropped black
blazer over a black and purple off-the-shoulder top,
which sat right at the waistband of my black hip huggers. The outfit had been in my closet for six
months, just waiting for its debut.

Miranda was starting to grow on me, if only for her
ability to improve my self-esteem. "Miranda, this is my
best friend, Anna. She's a makeup artist."

Miranda and Anna shook hands. "I bet we have a lot
of stories between the two of us," Miranda grinned.
"We'll have to swap tales later tonight. I have to make
the obligatory rounds first"

Anna said nothing, just beamed. She loved the energy of the dark, loud bars, and couple that with the fact
that she got to hang out with Miranda Hamilton-well,
I certainly earned my friendship badge for the evening.

Miranda turned to the group. "Hey, everyone, we
have a VIP room in the very back of the bar. The
bouncers are expecting all of you, so you shouldn't get
any flack. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Before she left, Devin stepped forward. "We haven't
met yet. I'm Devin Underhill, and I must say, I am a
huge fan of yours"

Miranda shrugged her shoulders and smiled.
"Thanks!" was all she said. As she exited, her hips
swayed as she made her way through the crowd, stopping every five seconds to chat someone up. I could see
Devin staring after her.

"Someone should give him a hankie to wipe his
drool," Anna said under her breath.

"I must talk to her more" He slowly followed her,
enchanted.

I quickly pivoted toward Michael. "You've created this beast, now you're going to have to tame him. I
knew this wasn't a good idea."

Michael, too, looked worried, but he tried to sound
composed. "I'll follow him, distract him somehow."

It was just Anna and I left. "So, should we go claim
our VIP status while we have the chance?" I asked her.

"I've never been a VIP before. And to be one with
Miranda Hamilton is even better. See, I told you that
she was sweet!"

"Yeah, she isn't as bad as I thought," I reluctantly
admitted.

The entrance to the VIP room was cloaked in a black
velvety drape. The security guard pushed it aside for
us, introducing three dark-blue leather couches formed
in a horseshoe shape, an aquarium with exotic fish, and
a glass coffee table lined with every kind of liquor
imaginable. The sunshine-yellow walls were a bright
(and surprising) contrast to the rest of the bar, though
they were somewhat muted by the faint light coming
from the green-fringed lamps.

The lounge was a peaceful oasis from the chaotic bar
scene. The house music was muted, and patchouli candles gave the air a hearty, musky scent.

I looked around and saw about a dozen importantlooking people, some of whom were obvious trendsetters and probably paid to just stand there and look cool,
others still in business suits. I leaned toward Anna.
"Any of those people look familiar?"

She casually scanned the crowd and tapped her chin.
"Hmm. I think I worked with one of those guys on a
play a few months ago. I'll be right back" Within sec onds, Anna was being swept off her feet by a chiseled
He-Man. While they hugged and gushed how great the
other one looked, my eyes wandered around the room.
Here I was, the PR woman, the one who makes things
happen, cha, cha, cha, and I was all alone. How did this
happen?

I begrudgingly wandered back into the bar, pretending that I was important, or at least looking for someone important. Then Michael appeared about six inches
from my face.

"Hi," he smiled. "Having fun?"

"Sure, until I was left all alone in the VIP room" I
stuck out my lower lip and quivered mockingly.

"There, there," Michael patted my shoulder. "Devin
ran to get a drink, so I'm just keeping my eye out for
him." He scanned the crowd. "Man, I just cannot relate
to him."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I've tried to make conversation, and his eyes keep
wandering to the next woman who walks past. He
doesn't listen, doesn't have much of an attention span.
He's like a five-year-old"

"And he wonders why we have to `publicly babysit'
him," I bemoaned. "I was just on my way to the ladies'
room, so I'll send him your way if I see him."

I made my way through the throes of people crowding the dance floor. At the edge, about 20 feet ahead of
me, I saw Devin grabbing an unsuspecting Miranda by
her waist as she walked by.

He stood about a foot taller than she, even in her
heels. He leaned over to say something in her ear, and she smiled and dismissed herself. But he wasn't giving
up. He whispered something again in her ear, and she
laughed politely. She looked like she was trying to get
away, but even Miranda Hamilton might have gotten
caught up in Devin Underhill's charisma.

I frantically looked behind me for Michael, hoping
he might be witnessing this, but he was out of sight. I
started to march over to the pair to pull them apart
when something even more severe caught my eye. Randall Steck, a pencil-necked tabloid photographer privy
to many moments of celebrities behaving badly, was
gearing up to take a shot of Devin and Miranda. Sure, it
was obvious that she didn't want to be here, but the
cameras are unforgiving; it only takes a second or two
of any sort of intimate contact, and poof, you're in tomorrow's rags. This was the last thing I needed to happen. I hustled to Randall and tapped him on the
shoulder. He ignored me. So I stepped in front of his
camera. "Hey, lady, get out of my way!" he sneered.