“Paddy,” Mei hollered.
“Patrick’s opinion is irrelevant,” said Angie, handing me my clutch. “This is all about what works on camera and gets us the likes. We were looking at a red Carolina Herrera gown, but given recent events we thought this would send a better message. More refined and dignified. Not quite as sexy. Now, the rules of the red carpet are as follows . . .”
Patrick emerged from the hallway. One of the first times he’d dared venture into the chaos of the living room today. Men had it so much easier than women. He’d hid out at the gym before being groomed. I’d never seen him in a tuxedo before. Not in person. Talk about needing to gird your loins.
Angie snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Norah, stop making heart eyes and pay attention.”
I gave her a look of displeasure.
“Give us a minute, please,” said Patrick.
Mei smiled and Angie grumbled, but they did as told, disappearing into the office.
“You look beautiful.” He took my hand, straightening the rock on my ring finger before placing a kiss on my knuckles. “How do you feel?”
I sighed. “Nervous. How about you?”
He shrugged. It was just another day in Hollywood for him.
“Car’s here!” said Mei.
“We could always stay home and have sex,” he said, leaning in to place a kiss on my neck. Such a romantic. “That’s always an option.”
“Aren’t you up for an award?” I asked.
“Yeah. But I’m not going to win. It’s a popularity contest as much as anything and I’m still catching up on that front.”
“But you never know. You might win.”
“Are you sure you’re good with doing this?” he asked.
“I didn’t spend all day getting ready just to miss the party.”
He smiled and offered me his arm. “Okay then. Let’s go.”
“I just need a moment to powder my nose,” I said. Because needing to pee the minute we hit the red carpet did not sound like a good time.
We took the prerequisite at-home picture for social media, then got moving. Angie wasted no time laying down the law as soon as we were in the limousine. “We’re not giving interviews. Don’t answer questions. Don’t even talk to the photographers. Let them take their shots, then get out of there.”
“Got it,” I said. “Is that normal?”
“It is this year.” And that was all she said about that. “When they ask for a fashion shot, that’s the polite way of telling you to get out of the way so they can take a picture of Patrick on his own.”
I nodded.
“And remember, you two are in love,” she said. “Only just got engaged. That means PDA.”
Patrick frowned, but didn’t comment.
Outside, Los Angeles passed by in a rush. It was only late afternoon, sunset still a good hour away. Patrick poured two glasses of champagne and handed them to Angie and me. Mei had stayed back at the house to tidy things up and one of the bodyguards rode up front with the driver. That this was my life right now still boggled my mind.
When I talked to Gran earlier, she asked me what being famous was like. Having people want a piece of you was both strange and tenuous. My adoring public might lose interest at any moment and I could be back to schlepping drinks in some bar.
“We’ll be met with a minder when we get there who will see you all the way to your seats,” said Angie, continuing with her lecture.
I sipped my champagne and tried to keep my shit together. My stomach had long since dropped to around ground level. Millions would be watching this event. Crazy town.
We joined a long line of limousines, but it moved quite quickly. When we drew to a stop and the car door opened, the first thing that hit me was the noise. So much screaming and shouting. There were people everywhere and many of them were very excited. Security guards and police officers monitored the fans and onlookers gathered behind the fences.
Patrick helped me from the car, Angie got busy on her cell, and we were off. Our minder was a woman about my own age with burnished skin and Pacific Islander heritage. Her name was Leilani, and she wore a headset and seemed to have a talent for looking everywhere all the time. Nothing got by her.
Ahead of us on the red carpet was a big-name actor with his entourage, and ahead of him appeared to be the reigning queen of pop. I have to admit, my knees went a little weak at the sight of her. So cool. The famous director we’d seen out at dinner was nearby too. Reporters with camera crews stood at intervals, ready to get the gossip. A woman in a sleek white dress stood about midway, holding a tray of bottled water. The whole thing looked to be run with military precision.