I also knew that I was getting access that any writer in my shoes would kill for.
Gabe was a big boy, I told myself. He knew what he was doing, and if he didn’t, it wasn’t my fault if I took his offer at face value.
I just had to keep telling myself that.
The after-party was at the restaurant in the hotel next to the theater. It was a big, beautiful, expensive old building that I was certain had hosted many events like this. No doubt the restaurant staff had seen things over the years.
Oliver was already there when we arrived.
“He never watches the whole movie,” Gabe said. “First ten minutes and then he’s out.”
“Does he not like to watch himself on the big screen?” I asked.
Gabe shrugged as if to say “You’d have to ask him.”
There were gorgeous, lavish flower arrangements at the center of each table and black-suited waiters carrying trays with tiny, delicate snacks and impressive-looking drinks. The room oozed money and glamour.
I tucked my bag tighter under my arm, painfully aware of the rip in the side of my dress.
“I’m going to get a drink,” Gabe said. “You want something?”
“Sure,” I said.
He flagged down one of the waiters so I could grab a pink ombre drink with half a pineapple stuck into the rim.
“Do you think you could snag me a whisky on the rocks?” Gabe asked the waiter.
“Of course,” the waiter said.
Gabe handed him some money.
“Ask them to keep them coming, okay?”
It must have been a lot of money because the straight-faced waiter’s eyes widened for a brief moment.
“Of course, Mr. Parker,” he said.
Gabe put his hand on the small of my back and with a gentle push, guided me toward a round booth at the edge of the room. It had a little placard on it that read Reserved.
I maneuvered myself and my drink into the booth, the leather squeaking as I did. I held my breath, waiting for the sound of velvet ripping, but luckily the dress held as I settled against the seat.
It wasn’t until the waiter appeared with Gabe’s drink that I realized how odd it was for complete strangers to know your name and how to find you in a crowd.
“Cheers,” Gabe said.
We clinked our drinks together and both took a sip. The minute I tasted mine, I knew I was in trouble. It was exactly the kind of sweet, drinkable cocktail that could sneak up on you if you weren’t careful.
And I wasn’t feeling very careful at all.
“Are you having fun?” Gabe asked.
He had downed almost half of his drink already.
“I am,” I said.
He nodded and leaned back.
“The first time is fun,” he said.
“But not the second or the third or the fourth?”
I had my tape recorder in my purse but I was pretty sure Gabe would clam up the minute he saw it. I probably couldn’t quote him on anything he said right now, but maybe I could still use some of it.
Gabe knocked back the rest of his drink.
“It’s more fun when it’s not your premiere,” he said.
He was staring out across the room, and I followed his gaze to find that Jacinda Lockwood—impossible to miss in a neon teal gown, her locs swept back in a majestic updo—had just entered the restaurant.
I could tell when she saw him—when she saw me—because she paused, just for a moment. Then she turned her gorgeous, smooth shoulder toward us and gave the rest of the room the kind of smile that people paid thousands in dental bills to get.
“Are you going to say hi?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“Maybe,” Gabe said.
Another drink had appeared in front of him—I’d been so busy watching Jacinda that I hadn’t even noticed—and when I glanced back at her, she had faded into the dim light and crowd. I caught a glimpse or two of her un-ignorable dress, but she seemed to be keeping her distance.
“I guess you two will be spending a lot more time together on the Bond set,” I said.
“Yep,” he said.
“You leave in a few weeks?”
“Yep,” he said.
The room itself was noisy and overwhelming, but over in our little corner booth, it was quiet. If I focused on Gabe, on my drink, the flower arrangement, and the candles burning at the center, it was a bit like being in our own world. So much so that whenever I did look up, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust and for the dark, moving blobs to become people.
“Your life is going to change,” I said.
I surprised him with that.
“Yes,” he finally said.