Part 40 (1/2)

'Just thank Joel,' she grins.

I wish I could, in person a Hollywood premiere starring my favorite actor? The California Club could learn a trick or two from him!

We doll ourselves into oblivion and then hurtle to the movie theatre in a state of giddy antic.i.p.ation but all the red carpet frenzy has subsided by the time we've found a parking spot just the odd photographer loading his camera back into his bag and a few moping members of the foreign press dangling limp microphones complaining that they got elbowed out of the way at the crucial moment.

Having only just made it to our seats for the opening credits I spend the first ten minutes of the movie trying to regulate my breathing and bring my body temperature back down to an acceptable simmer. Even when that is achieved I can barely concentrate on the screen for wondering where in the auditorium Owen might be sitting. My eyes strain in the dark trying to make out his one-of-a-kind nose in the line of profiles in our row. No match. I settle down and try to focus on the film. Oooo-eee! That sleepy nasal drawl gets me every time. I can't believe we're going to meet him at the party afterwards.

At least we might have stood a chance if we'd got there within two hours of kick-off. I wonder if they decided to hold the party in a parking lot to deliberately trick us. Three times we went past the marquee and didn't twig, presuming we were missing the entrance to some fancy hotel ballroom.

When we do finally stagger up to a pair of bouncers, manfully resisting the urge to play skipping games with the red rope, an Amazonian blonde blocks our path.

'Oh no, now they're not letting any more people in it must be rammed in there,' I wail.

'Lara?' she asks.

I nod, stunned by just how long and blonde she is.

'Joel said to look out for you. I'm Sunset. Welcome.'

Bit risky for her to be hanging so close to the Sunset Strip if you ask me, but then again she looks like that could well be her forte.

'Nice to meet you,' I smile.

I can only presume she's one of Joel's conquests but instead of feeling jealous and inferior I feel quite proud that I've played in her league.

'Is Owen still here?' I dare to ask.

'He just left,' she apologizes.

'Did he take half the party with him?' Zo looks round the makes.h.i.+ft room lined with themed buffet and bar set-ups but lacking clientele.

This is when they really need to employ some extras to fill out the premiere parties after 11pm!' Sunset concedes.

'If this was Brighton everyone would be sucking up every last drop of alcohol. What's wrong with this town?' Zo marvels.

'Hey! Isn't that Eddie ”Rock Me” Powers?' I point across to an electric blue seating area.

It is indeed the former MOR legend and he's still working his trademark look of rock star leather trousers teamed with a working man's plaid s.h.i.+rt.

'He hasn't aged at all.' Zo is impressed. 'Still s.e.xy 24/7!' Zo recalls one of his bigger hits.

It's then I remember her brief but all too hardcore crush on him. I tried reasoning with her at the time he was such a doofus but she merely pointed out that I was in love with Howard from Take That and thus didn't have a leg to stand on.

'Zo, no,' I tell her, but she's already looking at him that way. Not like an idol exactly, more like prey.

'He's got a song on the soundtrack,' Sunset explains.

'A new one?'

'Yeah, he's trying to make a comeback he's dis.h.i.+ng out promo T-s.h.i.+rts if you're interested ...' She nods over to a young girl who seems to be having a problem s.h.i.+fting the goods.

'Might do better if they didn't have his face on them,' I note.

'I want one!' Zo enthuses.

'Why?' I frown.

'I don't know, it's free isn't it?'

'All right, Elise?' I tease.

'Don't say that!' Zo shudders. 'I just think it'd be a fun memento, for old times' sake shall we get one?'

I can never resist that mischievous look.

'As long as you promise me you'll never wear it. Not even in bed.'

'Promise.'

'Have fun, ladies,' Sunset waves us off. 'Just remember if you're going to get in trouble he might as well be rich!'

'Blackberry vodka?' Zo makes a quick pit-stop at the bar.

'Why not?' I accept a freshly pulped gla.s.s to drink to the absent Owen then attempt to grab Zo out of the way as I spot a fast-moving entourage advancing. Too late. She gets roughly elbowed by a burly bodyguard and loses her footing.

'Who was it?' She peers after them, hopping on her good foot, hoping for a sighting.

'I didn't see but I'm a.s.suming there was a short celebrity buried in there somewhere. Oh Zo!'

'What?' She looks down at her white top it's covered in inky blackberry-flavored gloop.

'Oh no,' I mutter.

'It's my favorite top!' she gasps.

'Oh no!' I say again. My mind is already leaping to the next step. 'Do you want to go home?' I suggest quickly.

'Are you crazy? We've got to at least say hi to Eddie and there's probably still a few real celebs here surely one of them must be an alcoholic, hanging on till the bitter end.'

'I'm sure that was the last one leaving and you can't walk around with a big purple stain on your top!'

'I could always-' Zo looks over at T-s.h.i.+rt girl.

'No!' I yelp. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.

'But-'