I sit there; sure she said one of the other nominees was the winner.
“Courtney! You won!” Suchandra Bhatt, a Bollywood actress, says from my right.
“Oh, my God,” I say, still not moving. It’s not really registering. I wonder if Rush felt this way. He’s probably back with reporters now. He won’t know.
“Go up there,” she says encouragingly. I do so in a daze.
Melissa gives me the statue and a hug. “Congratulations,” she says. I walk over to the microphone.
“I, um, was definitely not prepared for this. All I can think right now is that line from First Wives Club that Bette says to Goldie. “I beat Meryl,” and now I feel like d-bag,” I say, laughing, but when I look over at Meryl, she’s laughing too and blowing me kisses. Okay, I beat Meryl. “I would like to thank the Academy for this honor. I never expected it, but thank you so, so, so much. I’d like to thank Rush for being the best co-star and husband I could ever ask for. My parents, who put their lives on hold while I pursued my dreams,” I say, but I don’t get a chance to say another thing because Rush comes running out from behind the musician’s stage. I can see him as he hops down into the crowd and continues to run for the stage that I’m on. He bounds up the stairs and reaches me, pulling me into a searing kiss. The eight-pound statue in my hands makes it hard for me to wrap my arms around him, but I manage.
“Oh my God, baby,” he shouts in my ear. I can’t hear anything because the audience is going crazy. The film had already won every other category it was nominated in except best picture.
A few minutes later, we won that too.
Life couldn’t get any better right now, but it will.
Epilogue
Rush
Fifteen Years Later
Fifteen years and four kids later, we have come full circle back at the Oscars, sure we get invited every year, but neither of us has won again. Tonight I am nominated for Best Director, and Court is nominated for Best Actress for my film Growing Up Vegas. I wrote the screenplay and got it greenlit. When I wrote it, I wrote it specifically for Courtney to star in. She is a joy to direct. I can see why other directions fight over getting her to star in their movies; some even change their schedule just so Courtney can star in theirs too. She’s also nominated for Best Supporting Actress for Quarterback. She plays the mother of a boy who, even though he’s popular, is a serial killer. The boy who plays her son is our son, Desmond. We’ve got a real dynasty going, and I don’t hate it. He’s got his first Best Actor Nomination tonight, and he’s nervous as hell. Our ten-year-old daughter, Kelsie, acts as well. She’s on a popular kids’ TV show. Debbie and Tom travel with her when we can’t. Debbie jumped at the chance as soon as Tom retired. Courtney and I know she’ll take care of Kelsie and keep her safe on set. We are presenting an award tonight and are backstage. We still have two awards and a song ahead of us, so I pull her into the first empty green room I find.
“What are you doing, Rush?”
“What do you think I’m doing, baby?”
“You think you’ve got enough time?”
“There’s always enough time,” I say as I kiss her. She moans and lifts her dress. Turning her, I lift her against the door. With one arm, I hold her up. Reaching between us, I open my slacks and pull them along with my boxers just enough to slide into her. Slowly. I tease her. In and out. Over and over.
“Faster,” she whispers.
I’ll give this woman everything she wants. I love her more than life itself, and I know just how lucky I am.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Court,” I growl in her ear as I fuck her faster and faster.
“Kiss me,” she moans.
“Forever.”