Locked (PresLocke Series Book 2) (32 page)

We’d remained quiet, and so had Brenda, but we knew her silence wouldn’t last for long. But right now the only people who continued to speculate and talk about that sit-down with Holly and my mother were the entertainment magazines who had nothing else to gossip about, and
that
had been Ace’s cue. Both Roger and Martina had agreed it was time to tell our story. It was time for Ace to step out of the closet and go public with an exclusive interview on the
Carly Wilde Show
, and now here we were walking down a corridor to her green room to wait.

As we were ushered inside, the first thing I noted was how nice it was. For some reason I’d expected a little room with a couch and a TV, but that was not the case at all. There was a bar along the back wall, the lights were low, and there were several couches facing a wall filled with televisions showing the program currently being recorded.
 

“Please make yourself comfortable,” Kelly said. “There are drinks over at the bar and someone will be in shortly to fetch you, Mr. Locke.”

“Thank you. You’ve been very helpful this afternoon,” he replied.

“It was my pleasure. And it was lovely to meet you too, Mr. Prescott.”

“You too,” I said with a smile, before she shut the door and I walked over to one of the couches to take a seat. “This is nice.”

Ace followed and unbuttoned his jacket before he sat beside me. I stretched my arms out along the back of the leather and then waggled my brows at him. “Too bad you only have a few minutes. We’re all alone, fully stocked bar, you’re lookin’ all hot in your suit…”

Ace’s lids lowered as he leaned in to lightly kiss my lips, and then he whispered against them, “Are you sure you want me to do this? There’s still time to cancel.”

I sucked my upper lip under my lower one and pretended to think about his question before my mouth curved into a grin. “Am I sure I want you to go out on public television and tell the world we’re dating?”

“Well, it will probably be a lot more than just that.”

“Hmm, yeah, I guess so. But…I’m not adverse to people knowing that you’re off the market. And I trust what you’ll say.”

Ace brought a hand up so he could brush his thumb over my chin, and then he held my face steady. “Good. Because I would never do anything to hurt you.”

I blinked at the sincerity I saw in his eyes, and then nodded. “I know.”

“Okay. And for the record, this is just as much about me telling the world that
you’re
off the market too. So don’t believe for one second that this isn’t a purely selfish move.”

I chuckled at that, but then sobered as I searched his blue eyes. “Are you nervous?”

I remembered him telling me once that he didn’t like to voice his nerves, because if he acknowledged them they would get the better of him. However, this time, he didn’t hesitate. The corner of his lips quirked and he said, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

When he nodded and slid his hand up to cup my cheek, I raised my own to cover his.
 

“About which part?” I asked.

“About me not making a fool of myself over you.”

My heart swelled at that and a relieved laugh slipped free of me. “Oh?”

“Mhmm,” he said, running the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “How am I supposed to answer calmly when she asks me how I feel about you, when all I want to do is…” Ace took in a shuddering breath and leaned in to steal a kiss, and when he sat back I said, slightly breathless now myself, “When all you want to do is what?”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Mr. Locke, we’re ready for you,” Kelly said when she stuck her head in the door.

Ace nodded and rose to his feet while I sat there sputtering, wanting to know what he’d been going to say. But I’d just have to ask him later. It was time for him to go and sit down with the most popular talk show host in America, and there was no way you kept her waiting.
 

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, and then bent at the waist to give me one more kiss. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, hotshot. I’ll be watching,” I said, indicating the televisions on the wall.

“You better be,” he said, and then shot me his movie-star smile as he turned and headed for the door.

As I watched him go, the broad line of his shoulders, the tapered waist and long legs eating up the space, I couldn’t help the pride filling my chest. That man was mine, and he was about to go and tell it to the world.

* * *

IT’S SHOWTIME
, I thought, as I followed Kelly, who wove her way backstage around props, people, and scaffolding to a side door. She instructed me to wait as two efficient men hooked me up with a battery pack that clipped to my belt under my jacket, and then they attached a tiny mic to my lapel. I could hear the excited murmurs of the audience through the door as the preshow entertainment wound up, and the nerves I’d confessed to Dylan only seconds ago slammed into me tenfold.
 

Jesus
, I felt lightheaded.
 

“Excuse me, do you have some water?” I asked Kelly, who nodded and quickly dashed off, reappearing with a bottle. I took several gulps and then shut my eyes, trying to center myself as a loud roar went up beyond the door I was standing at.
 

Carly Wilde had just walked on stage, I heard muttered behind me somewhere.
 

Oh God. Oh God. This is really happening. I’m really about to do this.
 

I continued to look at the door only a few feet away from me, and knew that in less than two minutes it would slide open for me to step out on stage, where I would sit down and tell all of my secrets to several million of my closest friends. And though I wanted to do it, when I thought of it in those terms, I also wanted to pass out.

I shut my eyes and shook my hands out, and reminded myself why I was here.
What
I was doing here. And when I remembered the look on Dylan’s face just before I’d left him there in the green room, my pulse steadied and my frazzled nerves calmed somewhat, because for once I knew the end game here, and that was to tell the world the truth and to
finally
be free and happy.

“All right, Mr. Locke,” Kelly said, glancing at the door. “You’re up in five, four, three—”

No more was said, the door just slid open and I heard, “Here’s that moment you’ve all been waiting for. Please welcome Ace Locke
,
” and the audience of approximately three hundred got to their feet and went ballistic.

There were screams, shouts, and wolf whistles, and several women at the front of the room were sobbing, as they hugged and jumped up and down with one another as I walked onto the stage and waved at the crowd. I stopped between the door and the couch to face the audience and gave a huge wave and slight bow, as I’d been instructed, and that sent up more whooping and hollering and had me relaxing into the excitable atmosphere and my role here today.
 

Today I was the celebrity I’d spent the past decade honing. I’d perfected that persona and character to a T, and as I aimed my famous smile out at the crowd and turned to head toward the woman whose show this was, I was shocked at the calm that overtook me. I knew this role. I could play this role, and I’d be damned if I didn’t win this group over by the end of this interview.
 

When I reached Carly, her smile was radiant and sincere as she opened her arms to me for a welcoming hug.
 

“Ace, so happy to have you here today,” she said by my cheek. Her black hair was cut into a chic bob that angled down to two sharp points in line with her chin, and her cream stilettos made her five-foot-four frame tall enough that she was eye level with me. She was dressed in a sleek black sleeveless dress that was cinched high on her waist with a cream sash, and then hugged her curvaceous figure to where the hemline hit just above her knees. She was gorgeous, and not only one of the most respected talk show hosts and entrepreneurs, but also a fashion icon.

I embraced her in a warm hug, which was surprisingly firm for such a petite lady, and when we pulled apart she turned to her adoring audience and announced, “He’s really here!” And that set the crowd off all over again.

As they cheered and screamed, some even gasped when I looked in their direction. Carly took a seat on her famous crimson couch and I took my spot beside her. She grinned over at me as I adjusted my jacket and sat back to survey the crowd. The spotlights were bright, but not blinding, as I stared out at the anonymous faces all smiling back at me, waiting for whatever it was I was going to reveal today, and as the excitement mellowed to hushed murmurs, Carly let out a boisterous laugh and looked my way.

“Welcome to my show,” she said, and I couldn’t help but reciprocate with my own laugh.

“Thank you. I definitely feel welcomed.”

She nodded and then scanned her fans before bringing her eyes back to mine. “They are quite exuberant today, aren’t they?”

I clapped my hands along with the cheers that went up at that, and when I heard someone shout, “We love you, Ace,” I looked to the left in the general direction the platitude had come from and gave a wave and a smile.

“And isn’t that the truth,” Carly said, recapturing my attention. “The world loves Ace Locke. They love watching your movies. They love getting to know you through interviews and press. They love speculating about the
special
man who’s caught your attention. And in general, the world just can’t seem to stop talking about the private man behind the larger-than-life movie star that you are. So, calm yourselves, people,” Carly said good-naturedly. “We only have him for a limited time, and I know you want some answers out of this guy before he leaves. Am I right?”

When the affirmatives rang out around the studio, I leaned back into the couch, placing an arm on the back of it much like Dylan had in the green room. Settling into my seat, I placed an ankle on my knee and turned my body toward my host as she crossed her legs and faced me. Her blue eyes glittered at me as she reached out to pat my hand that was resting on the back of the plush seat.

“So, how are you doing today?” she asked.

I barked out a laugh at her simple segue into the beginning of the interview. “I’m doing just great, Carly. And yourself?”

“Oh, I’m fantastic,” she answered as if we were at an intimate brunch for two instead of sitting down for an interview for over seven million. “But we aren’t here to talk about me, mister. We’re all here today to talk about you.” She paused for a second and then added, “Well, you and a certain someone who goes by the name of Dylan Prescott.”

God
, I couldn’t have stopped my smile if I tried. But as it was, I wasn’t trying.

“Look at that smile,” she said, patting my hand and leaning forward. “Just the mention of his name and your entire face lights up.”

There was no denying that. “He has that effect,” I said, and the crowd erupted into applause.

“Yes. I can see that. And I have to thank you for agreeing to come and sit down to talk to me today.”

I nodded toward her, pleased that she was so easy to talk to. I’d always heard that about her, but having never interviewed with her in the past, I hadn’t been convinced until this very moment. “Thank you for having me.”

“Of course. You have to understand how happy I am to have you here. You’re such an inspiration to many already through your acting and charity work over the years. And then there was your coming out, which I’m sure helped many young men, and women, feel that it was okay to be proud of who they are, just like you are. And now here you are, someone so private, proving once again what courage looks like. You’ve smashed through Hollywood stereotypes and stepped out of the closet in a most
public
way, and I for one am humbled to sit across from you right now and watch you smile at the mention of your boyfriend’s— I can call him that, right?”

I chuckled. “Yes. He is most certainly that.”

“Then to finish my thought, it’s a joy to watch you smile over the mention of your boyfriend’s name.”

“Thanks, Carly,” I said, and the crowd clapped and stomped their feet as I allowed my gaze to travel the entire length of the studio. The acceptance on all their faces, plus that of the woman opposite me, made it easy to open up with her and just be myself. “It hasn’t been an easy road, especially these last few months. I’ve dealt with countless setbacks in my career, people who have decided not to risk working with me due to what is going on in my personal life, but I wouldn’t change it. Dylan makes it worthwhile. And if me going through this publicly—sharing my story, and his, with all of you—makes the life of one person a little easier…then I’m happy to be here and talk to you about the man who has made
me
a better man.”
 

As a chorus of
awws
echoed around the room, I gave a bashful shrug. “What can I say? He kind of makes me sappy.”

“We’re not going to complain about that. Are we, guys?” she asked her adoring audience, who shouted out
nos
and
hell nos
until she returned her attention to me. “Okay, so come on, you know I want some goods here. The juicy scoop on how you two really met. There’s always speculation about these kinds of things, but we have to know. Was it romantic? Did you see him through a crowd and have to talk to him, like it was reported? Or did you call him up after spotting that hot billboard of him, you know, this one,” she said with a gesture of her thumb over her shoulder to the massive wall screen behind us, and up popped that sinful Calvin Klein ad of Dylan. The one with the leather jacket, the briefs, and the come-hither stare that had started it all, and if I’d thought the wolf whistles were loud for me… The women that made up ninety-nine percent of this audience went crazy. They cupped their hands around their mouths and howled like they were at a strip show, and some even put their fingers in their mouths to whistle the roof off the building as Dylan’s ad remained blown up center stage for their pleasure and,
oh yeah
, mine.

With a smug grin, I slowly brought my eyes back to the woman whose were wide and innocent as she said, “I don’t know how you would ever look at him and
not
smile.”