InHap*pily Ever After (Incidental Happenstance) (69 page)

            He tipped her
chin up and kissed the tip of her nose. “As usual, the best view is through
your eyes.” he smiled. “I just want to fall into them and see the world as you
do, love.”

            She snuggled
into him, and let out a little squeal of delight. “Oh, Dyl, never in a million
years did I ever picture myself doing something like this. I feel like
Cinderella at the ball.” The constant flash of cameras and the swing of the
searchlights gave everything a strobe-like effect—it was like being inside of a
dream.

            “Cinderella
couldn’t hold a candle to you.” Dylan took her face in his hands and planted a
soft kiss on her lips. “You look every bit the part, but I’m glad that at
midnight, you’ll still still be in my arms.”

            “I’m so glad
you’re my prince, Dyl.”

            A valet in a
tux with tails stepped over to open the door and Tia could almost feel the
anticipation of the waiting crowd. Dylan raised his fist and Tia tapped it with
her own. “Let’s do this thing, shall we?” he smiled, stepping out of the car
and offering a quick wave to the gathered crowd before reaching in for Tia’s
hand. The voices from the mostly female fans were unbelievable—Dylan was the
one many of them had come to see, and he turned on his rock star charm. Tia
assumed her own public persona, and arm in arm, they started their stroll
toward the entrance.

            “Dylan, Dylan,
will you sign my book?” “Dylan, can I get a picture?” “Dylan, I love you!”
“Tia, you rock!” “Tia, can I get your autograph?” The very atmosphere was
crackling with electricity and Tia swept her eyes over the crowd, feeling
easier when she took in the number of security guards that perked up to full
attention and scanned the swarm of people as they exited the vehicle.

            They started
their journey down the red velvet mingling with the audience, as it should be,
singing autographs and pausing to take photos with a few of the fans. Then, they
wound their way through the various stations manned by TV personalities and
photographers, stopping for brief interviews and more pictures. They ended up
near the entrance where the rest of the cast and crew had gathered, catching up
with each other and mingling with other celebrities who had shown up to take in
the premier or get a little time in the spotlight themselves. They worked their
way around the group, making introductions and accepting congratulations on the
movie and their engagement. 

            “Great to see
you, Dylan.” Stan separated himself from the crowd and gave Dylan a short hug.
“You must be Tia. I certainly have heard a lot about you. Congratulations to
you.”

            Tia shook his
hand. “Thanks so much, it’s nice to meet you, Stan. I’ve heard a lot about you,
as well. I owe you a huge thank you for being so understanding when Dylan had
to leave on such short notice.”

            “Yeah, well, I
wasn’t too happy about it at the time, I have to admit, but things came
together surprisingly well, I think. I’m pretty happy with the end result. I
imagine it will be a bit of a mixed bag for the two of you; watching it. I’m
really sorry about the whole situation—Penelope’s really been…vocal.”

            “Now there’s
the bloody understatement of the year.  Please tell me she isn’t here.”

            “Not that I’ve
seen or heard. We certainly didn’t invite her. Some of the studio reps thought
it would be great press if the two of you were seen in public together for the
first time since the shit hit the fan, but I didn’t agree. I put my foot down
on that pretty hard.”

            “I’m glad for
that, and I owe you another one.”

            “You’re both
coming to my after-party, right?”

            “We’ll
definitely be there.”

            Tia was
introduced to the rest of the cast and a lot of the crew, all of whom greeted
Dylan warmly and seemed genuinely glad to meet her. “His whole trailer was
covered in pictures of you and he talked about you all the time,” Sadie said,
pulling her into a warm hug. “It was so sweet. I’m really glad things worked
out for the two of you.”

            Finally, Tia
watched her parents walk in with Bo, their eyes wide as they took in the
spectacle. She ran over and threw her arms around them. “Pretty cool, huh?” she
whispered to her mom. “Did you ever imagine you’d be on the VIP guest list for
one of these? I know I never did.”

            “Not in my
wildest dreams,” Danielle said. “It’s a trip, isn’t it? Don Pradinski
interviewed us on the way in!”

            Bo took Tia’s
hand and lifted it over her head, spinning her in a slow circle before pulling
her into his arms. “You are the best looking thing in this whole room,” he said
with a smile. “Strummer Boy better know how lucky he is!”

            “He knows it
all too well,” Dylan agreed, joining them and greeting his best man. “You look
beautiful too, Danielle. I’m so glad you could be here with us.” He kissed both
her cheeks and shook hands with Will before lifting a finger to summon of one
of the servers and handing each of them a flute of champagne.

            Tia was
thrilled to see the spark in her mother’s eyes. Dylan had given her the option
of inviting whomever she liked, but she decided to be a bit selfish and keep
this first one mostly for herself. There would certainly be others, and she
could invite other friends then. Her parents, though, were a given.

            They hung out
for about another half hour in the VIP lounge, sipping champagne and chatting
before they were waved inside and ushered to their seats. Stan made some
opening remarks about the ‘interesting circumstances’ surrounding the making of
the movie, and the house lights dimmed.

           
I should be
in there
, Penelope thought as she watched the scene from across the street.
That’s my red carpet, too, damn it. I earned it!
She’d spent the better
part of the past two days; ever since Ben had called her warning her against
showing up uninvited; weighing her options. She was one of the stars; she had
every right to be strolling the red carpet and basking in the applause and
adoration of her fans. The last time she’d gotten a public reception was when
she was brought back from New Zealand; and to say that it had been less than
glamorous would be the understatement of the century—she’d been given the same
shabby clothes she’d been wearing the night Dylan walked in on her in her
trailer, and they wouldn’t even give her any make-up or let her do her hair properly.
They refused to provide her with any decent hair products in jail, and her
crown had lost its shine and luster. Much like her life these days.

            The scene had
been a very mixed bag. She had expected fans to show up in support of her and
they had; but there were more than a few hurtful, negative remarks hurled in
her direction by the small crowd, as well.

            Watching
Dylan, looking incredibly sexy in his gray tux, his wavy hair falling past his
shoulders in casual disarray, was downright painful; but watching his date
strutting around in her expensive gown—God, she could see the fucking rock on
her finger from
here
—was like a punch in the gut. How dare she walk
around like she
belonged
there, posing for pictures and signing
autographs. She was nobody!

            Ben told her
point blank that it was a bad idea—the last thing she needed was more negative
press, he’d said, and her showing up expecting to get the star treatment was
likely to end badly. “You need to lay low for a while, Penelope,” he told her.
“Give it a couple months for the spotlight to fade, and then you can start
thinking about your comeback. Consider it a gift Miller and Hastings aren’t
pressing charges—that’ll get this thing finished a lot more quickly and with a
lot less fanfare.”

            But the spotlight
wasn’t fading, and she was tired of waiting. First it was their reunion, then
their engagement, her arraignment, and now the wedding was in the news;
especially since no one could nail down the actual location of where the
ceremony would take place. It wasn’t going away any time soon, and she
desperately needed to do something to get her life back on track. God knew
she’d been at the bottom before, and she’d always managed to find a way to claw
her way back up to the top.

            She looked
down at the ticket her agent was able to get and felt the hot coil of anger
twist around in her gut. No way in hell she should have to sneak into her own
movie premier; no way she should have to watch from across the street, a hoodie
covering her head and glasses over her eyes—not when her name was second on the
goddamn bill. She had earned the right to walk that fucking carpet and she
needed to see the film; needed to be in the same room with Dylan even if he had
no idea she was there. But, maybe if she could catch him alone, she could
finally get a chance to explain her side of the story.

            She showed her
ticket to the guard at the front entrance and slipped into a seat just as the
lights were dimming.

*****

            Maybe she was
biased, but Dylan was nothing short of amazing. He played the role perfectly
and he looked damn good on the enormous screen. It was hard at first watching
him interact with Penelope’s character and she had some minor personal issues
with the love scenes, but she had anticipated it and it only took a spin of the
ring on her finger to remind her that it was all an act. She recognized some of
the backdrops from the tabloid pictures that had been burned into her brain and
could see how they had so easily convinced the public that Dylan and Penelope
were a couple. As much as she hated to admit it, Penelope was a good actress,
and they looked like the real deal. Her character was much softer than she was
in real life, so she was actually likeable. Somewhat.

            She reached
over to pluck a few kernels of popcorn from the tub in Dylan’s lap and he
grabbed her hand, snatching them with his mouth and then licking the butter
from her fingers. Tia giggled and grabbed another handful, leaning her head on
his shoulder and whispering, “You’re amazing, as always—how is it that I’m
constantly impressed by you?”

            “It’s not bad
so far, is it?” he said modestly. “You can never tell when you’re filming, and
I’ve never been so nervous about an end result as I was with this one.”

            “Quit talking
to me,” she smiled, “I’m trying to watch this amazingly hot guy on the big
screen, and you’re throwing off my focus.” He squeezed her hand and then
brought it to his mouth to press a kiss against the back of it.

            Penelope’s
soul broke into pieces. She’d seen them on television, of course, thanks to
that bitch of a prison guard who played it over and over and over; and she
couldn’t resist watching their other appearances, just so she could see Dylan’s
smile and hear his sexy, accented voice; but seeing them together in person was
like having her heart ripped out and crushed by a steel-toed boot. He loved
her. It was painfully obvious in the way he touched her, the way he smiled at
her, and even the way he kept taking popcorn from her fingers. He really loved
the bitch—even her friends in low places weren’t able to pry them apart. He
wasn’t going to listen to her explanation; wasn’t going to give her another
chance to be even a small part of his life. She went back and forth between
watching them and watching herself interact with Dylan on the screen in front
of her, and the juxtaposition was almost more than she could bear.

            Why didn’t she
get a happy ending? Why was it that she had to struggle and fight for
everything she got and that little skank of a school teacher got to live the
life Penelope herself deserved? She’d paid her dues and her overdues and still
she came out in last place. She watched as the final love scene played out—the
one she should have done but that was instead filmed using a double shortly
after she was taken to jail just for loving someone too much—and the anger
boiled up inside her until it threatened to erupt. The credits rolled and the
lights came on…

            …and Tia was
the first one on her feet, clapping enthusiastically. She wiped tears from her
eyes, both from the emotional ending of the film and the tremendous sense of
pride she had in Dyl. He and the rest of the cast stood and took a bow, and the
audience rose to its feet. It was going to be a hit—they could all feel it.
There were a lot of handshakes, hugs, and back slapping, and the cast members
pulled the production team up to the front of the theater so that they could
get their own round of applause.

            “Speech!”
someone called out, and Stan held his hand up for silence.

            “I have to
say, I had my doubts about this one,” he smiled wryly, “but I will also say
that I’ve never worked with a better group of professional people, and that no
matter how tough things got, they never lost focus.” He looked at Dylan. “We
lived and worked in some pretty primitive conditions, and as most of you know,
our filming schedule was cut short by…unforeseen circumstances. I owe a big
thank you to Dylan for toughing it out another couple days when all he really
wanted to do was reclaim the life that was nearly taken from him, and to the
editors for piecing together an ending worthy of the film with precious little
to work with.” He paused, and swept his arm toward the screen which showed an
image of the promo poster—a shot of Dylan, soaking wet, dragging himself out of
a raging river. “I think we have a winner!”