Part 13 (2/2)

He was confident, polished, incredibly talented, undeniably hot. I was sure that the men in that room would give their left nut to live his life for even one day; the women would sacrifice anything to be in his bed for one night. He may have lived this part of his life with them, but he was most decidedly not among them.

He smiled as the cheering died down and his smooth voice proceeded to give a brief explanation of the category he was presenting before announcing the nominees... for cinematography.

There could be no more perfect category for that man to announce. He made sure to become familiar with the work of each and every nominee, subjecting me to an endless viewing of The Proof Beyond, where he paused practically every frame, pointing out ”the brilliance” in every shot. It took about four hours to watch that movie, and I'd still really like to see it someday. My vote laid squarely with Anya's Garden, however, and it was a much-discussed debate between the two of us all week.

But sure as s.h.i.+t, he opened that envelope-and I swear his eyes flicked toward me for a split second-as he smirked and announced, ”And the Oscar goes to... The Proof Beyond.”

Oh, he was going to be impossible to live with after this.

A few minutes later, he was back in his seat, grinning smugly, but staring straight ahead at the stage. I flipped him the ten bucks I owed him, and he didn't even so much as glance my way as he wordlessly stuck the bill in his front breast pocket.

Jerk.

Just for that, I leaned my face in close to his ear and whispered, ”Congratulations. But there's something you need to know. I took my panties off before putting on this dress tonight.”

That was a lie. I was totally still wearing my undies.

I sat back in my seat and waited for his reaction. I wasn't sure if he had heard me, because he was still staring straight ahead. But I noticed that his bottom lip had dropped just a fraction of an inch.

A whole five minutes went by before his mouth was at my ear, whispering, ”Did you leave the garters on?”

I pursed my lips to keep from cracking up, then mouthed the word, ”Yep.”

He was staring straight ahead again, but I watched a muscle working in his jaw and felt his hand tighten on mine as he s.h.i.+fted in his seat.

Ha! Sit on that, Fonzarelli!

Chapter 19.

s.e.x, POLITICS & c.o.c.kTAILS.

The after-party was at Chteau Blanco, and the vibe in the place was positively electric. For all the formality and nervousness before and during the show, it was replaced with relief and laid-back after. The men all loosened their ties and some even ditched their jackets. The women had changed into comfortable shoes, and I wished I'd known that that was a thing so I could have been more prepared. But seeing as it was Trip's first time at one of those things, he didn't know to give me the heads up.

We said h.e.l.los to a million people and were introduced to a million more before we found a booth along the wall that we could claim as our home base. Not that we sat for very long. There were elbows to rub, introductions to be made, a.s.ses to kiss. I'm not going to name-drop here, but let's just say I was blown away to be in the same room with most of those people. Faces you'd know; names you'd recognize. From rising stars and veteran actors to acclaimed directors and legendary producers. At one point, Trip pointed out Harvey Weinstein, and I thought I was going to bust a rib cracking up.

”You think he's forgiven you for dumping that pasta in his lap ten years ago?”

Trip raised an eyebrow as he shot back, ”I know he hasn't.”

We laughed at that as Trip excused himself to hit the bathroom. I kind of had to go, too, but there was no way I'd be able to get out of my dress on my own. Thank G.o.d I knew I'd have some help with that later, wink wink.

I saw that he'd gotten tied up talking to some people, so I went to the bar to grab him a club soda and lime. I couldn't find him after that, so I just decided to wait in the alcove near the restrooms.

”Well, h.e.l.lo, there!”

I turned and registered the lecherous man who had just greeted me. The look on his face and the way he was licking his lips made me feel like a triple-decker hot-fudge sundae. And not in a good way. I gave him a polite smile and said, ”h.e.l.lo.”

”I don't think I've had the pleasure.”

He extended his hand, so I took it, but before I got the chance to introduce myself, he added, ”But I sure as h.e.l.l look forward to it.”

Ee out of Trip's mouth.

”And she's not interested, so take a hike.” Trip took a swig of his drink, staring off beyond Robert, already bored.

”Now, Trip. You don't think I'd have tried anything if I knew she was with you! I just saw this lovely creature standing here all by her lonesome and thought she might like some company. Isn't that right...”

I guessed that was the part where I was supposed to offer my name. But where did that smelly b.a.l.l.sack get off trying to get me to vouch for him? Who the h.e.l.l did he think he was?

When I didn't fill in the blank, he staggered a bit as he added, ”And it's not like I wasn't willing to pay.”

There he went, treating me like some streetwalker again! As infuriated as I was, I could tell that Trip was about to blow his top. His entire body tensed, his eyes turned to ice, and his jaw was clenched so tightly, I thought he must have been grinding his teeth into a fine, white powder inside his mouth. He started to lean in Robert's direction, but I constricted my hold on his hand as The Lizard finally wised up from the look in Trip's eyes. He put his hands up in defense and said, ”Hey. Whoa, there. Okay, okay. I hear ya. No need to get all up about it.”

Trip took that step anyway, inches from Robert's face, staring him down with unleashed fury. ”If you weren't such an old b.a.s.t.a.r.d, I'd pound your face into a pulp for the way you just spoke to her. Seeing as we may be working together soon, I'm going to refrain from kicking your a.s.s.”

Wait a minute. This was Bert Goldblatt? The director Trip had been meeting with?

Bert's eyes darted around the room, looking for someone to save him from a well-deserved a.s.s-kicking.

Trip's voice didn't even sound like his own as he demanded, ”Apologize.”

”Trip. You're taking this all the wrong-”

”Apologize. Now.”

I wanted to step in and tell him it wasn't necessary. I wanted to just get the h.e.l.l away from the guy. But Bert turned toward me, sticking his sagging chin out a bit smugly as he said, ”I'm sorry.”

He finally chose to take his leave, but tossed over his shoulder as he did, ”I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to taste those t.i.ts.”

Trip turned into the Hulk before my eyes. He slammed his gla.s.s down on a nearby table and lunged at Bert, but I was in the way. Bert jumped back and smiled, but there was fear in the weasely man's eyes. I put my hands on Trip's chest, trying to keep him from killing the guy. ”Trip! Stop! Please don't do this. It's over, okay? Please!”

Trip looked from the man's retreating back to me a few times, still practically growling. I knew if he really wanted to go after him, I was no match to physically hold him in place. My words had already halted him, so I continued with that tactic. I put my hands to his face, and turned the focus of his eyes to mine. ”Trip! Baby. Please don't. He's a pathetic excuse for a man. Please don't ruin tonight over him, okay?”

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