Ryan gave me a tug and a trademark smart-ass smirk, finding the humor in my response. “Old hat. Cocky. Love it.” That still didn’t ease the stranglehold of nervous excitement twisting my stomach as we slowed in the line of cars depositing other celebrity attendees. Mike, David, and Trish exited the car first and closed the doors. Ry-an and I slid to the middle seats by the doors, where I put my shoes back on, waiting for our cue to exit. Mike would not let us get out until our other security escort was present and he’d had an opportunity to do a scan of the scene. I knew the drill: stay in formation, keep moving. Mike was always positioned behind Ryan on his right side.
Ryan was agitated by the sheer number of people milling about. “I’m not talking to any press.” He growled a low reminder at Trish when Mike opened his door.
No sooner did his toe hit the ground than people started screaming and yelling for his attention. It was so comforting when he turned back to take me by the hand; I knew we were going in as a team.
“We’re to the left for press photos,” Trish advised, steering us toward a huge wall with the MTV logo and year printed in a repeat pattern.
I wanted to let go of his hand so I wouldn’t have to pose for pictures. This wasn’t about me being here; I had come to terms with that. This was all about the celebrity making an appearance that drove the frenzied crowd to near madness. Ryan faltered a bit, unsure at first of what was expected of him. There was always someone instructing, guiding, telling him to go there, stand here, head in that direction. No matter how many times he’d done this before, I could see through the façade that he was nervous.
I watched him take a deep breath and steel his shoulders. In an instant, my humble lover transformed back into the revered A-601
list movie star. He posed his body with em-powered confidence, gave his signature smirk smile, and oozed that natural sexiness that was so graciously captured in thousands of pictures.
It was difficult not to be awed by it.
I panned the entire crowded entrance, the beginning of the red carpet, scanning for familiar faces, for danger, for clarity in the chaos. I stood back while Ryan posed in front of the wall for the throng of photographers.
He was moved down the wall in what seemed like five-foot increments while photographers shouted for him to turn in their direction.
When he got to the end of the wall, I could see the glaze forming over his eyes from enduring flash after flash.
He held out his hand to me, reclaiming his hold.
“We have—” David started, but Ryan cut him off, tugging me back to the space he’d just occupied on the wall. His hand slid to my ribs, pulling me into his side where I fit perfectly, posing us for the cameras.
My nerves were humming with excitement as I put on my best smile for them, for him.
“We look smashing, darling,” he uttered near my ear, joking with a funny accent to lighten the situation. I felt myself relax a bit more, knowing I was exactly where I was supposed to be, supporting my future husband.
After the prerequisite photo op, our entourage hurried us down the standard red carpet, avoiding all of the microphones, from every media outlet imaginable, that tilted out from behind the barriers, while other lesser-known actors and actresses were basking in the attention. Ryan was scheduled to be interviewed backstage, where he would talk the talk.
We were ushered to an open section of outdoor concrete where I spotted Suzanne Strass, Ryan’s co-star in the Seaside films.
She was chatting it up with a man and another woman when she spotted me; her smile quickly faded as she eyed me up and down, as if I’d offended her by making an appearance here. Call it cattiness, but something in me made me twist the huge diamond on my finger, my silent way of telling her to suck it.
I knew that they were going to be presenting a sneak peek of the second Seaside film tonight to ramp up the pending premiere, not to mention that he and Suzanne were up for several awards. She wasn’t a threat as much as she was a thorn in my side. I’d never forgive her for the trouble she caused when Ryan and I first got together, her silver tongue crafting stories, leading me to believe I was just a foolish conquest of his. I’d have to deal with her a few hundred more times, since Ryan had one more film and two press junkets to go through before he was rid of the franchise. I didn’t even want to think about all the interviews and magazine shoots to come.
Before I knew it, Suzanne was standing next to Ryan, pretending to tease him in her own playful way with mock punches. “Hey stranger,” she said on a giggle. Ryan gave her the obligatory distant hug but that was the extent of it. She leaned and gave me a quick shoulder hug as if we were long-lost friends who quite possibly were moments away from stabbing each other in the back. “So good to see you.”