Lovestruck Forever (18 page)

She
didn’t respond and I sighed, struggling not to get frustrated
with her. “Just think about it, okay?”

“I
will. I promise.”

I
decided to drop it, knowing there was no point in nagging her. I
hoped she would attend. I would do anything I could to make the day
more comfortable for her. That was the best I could offer.

We
arrived at the airport a few minutes later, and Sofie pulled up to
the curb at departures. “Have so much fun, you lucky brat,”
she said cheerfully, grabbing me for a hug. “You better get me
some autographs.”

“I’ll
do my best,” I promised.

***

My
flight was smooth and uneventful. I was surprised, however, at the
sight of Thomas waiting by my gate when I got off the plane.

“What
are you doing here?” I cried, shocked.

He
held out his arms. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks. I
don’t even get a hug?”

I
threw myself at him, making him laugh before he hugged me back, hard.
“God, I missed you, love.”

“I
missed you, too!” I pulled back just enough to look up into his
face. “But what are you doing here? I thought your schedule was
packed and we were meeting at the hotel.”

“My
flight got in late. When I realized you’d be here in less than
an hour, I decided to just wait for you.”

I
grinned up at him. “I’m so glad you did.”

Ever
the gentleman, Thomas slipped my carry-on tote from my shoulder and
transferred it to his own. “Let’s go get your bag.”

Once
we were safely in the back of Thomas’s hired car, I snuggled
into his chest. “I can’t believe you’re here. I
didn’t think I’d be seeing you until later.”

“I
just couldn’t wait,” he said simply, and I felt the
familiar flutter of butterflies in my stomach. I wondered if he would
ever not make me feel this way—I couldn’t imagine it. Not
if he kept doing things like skipping important networking lunches
with celebrities and movie execs just to spend a few extra minutes
with me.

“How’s
the movie going?” I asked, though he’d been filling me in
regularly during our nightly phone calls.

“Fantastic,”
he said happily, his entire face lighting up. I listened while he
told me about the shoot, marveling at how much more excited he was
than he’d been last year while shooting in Los Angeles. He had
hated the stress and pressure of living and working in Hollywood. I
made a mental note to encourage him to take more roles in the UK than
in L.A. in the coming years.

Our
hotel was close to the water and the famous Gaslamp Quarter. “Fair
warning,” Thomas said as the car pulled up in front of the
glass and stone facade. “There are tons of movie people staying
here for the Con.”

I
scrunched up my face. “I’m going to embarrass myself,
aren’t I?”

He
nudged my chin with his hand. “I’ll do my best to keep
you informed of everyone’s names.”

I
made a face at him and he laughed. “Sorry, love. It’s not
my fault you’re hopeless with famous faces.”

I
sighed as I climbed out of the car. “I really do need to take
Callie and

Imogen
up on their offers to give me celebrity-sighting lessons.”

The
photographers seemed to come out of nowhere. I hurriedly shoved my
left hand in my pocket to hide the ring—I’d been trying
to be much more careful about leaking wedding news since the rumors
started in London. Thomas was much more composed. He slung a lazy arm
around my shoulder and gave the photographers a quick wave and smile
as he led me into the hotel lobby.

“Wow,”
I remarked, impressed. “You didn’t let that bother you at
all.”

He
shrugged, leading me over to the reception desk. “This is a
work thing. Comic-Con is a huge deal, I expect there to be
photographers and reporters. What pisses me off is when they bother
me—or, worse, you—when we’re just out doing normal,
personal stuff.”

The
man in front of us finished checking in and turned to leave the
counter when he caught sight of Thomas. “Hey, Harper,” he
said, reaching out his hand to shake Thomas’s free one. “Good
to see you here, man.”

“You,
too,” Thomas said. “Franklin, this is my girlfriend,
Lizzie.”

“Hello,
Lizzie,” he said cheerily before turning his attention back to
Thomas. “You gonna be at the
Entertainment
Now
party?”

Thomas
laughed. “Of course. See you there?”

“Wouldn’t
miss it.”

The
man smiled at me one more time before waving and heading off to the
elevators. “He was nice,” I said. “Where do you
know him from?”

“Lizzie,
that was Franklin Davis.”

I
stared at him blankly.

“Franklin
Davis? From the
Waterville
movies?”

I
only shrugged and Thomas shook his head. “We need to sign you
up for those celebrity-sighting classes ASAP.”

***

Thomas
was very busy the entire time we were in San Diego. The studio had
scheduled a good number of interviews and events for him and Annie to
attend outside of the conference. Then there were the conference
events themselves. Before his first panel, I waited with Thomas in a
meeting room that had been repurposed as a dressing room, and he told
me all about the flashy, red-carpet party we’d be attending the
following night. According to Thomas, the
Entertainment
Now
party was the
biggest ticket of the entire week. “Publicists get fired over
failing to secure an invitation,” he told me. “Every
producer who matters will be there.”

“Every
producer? I thought the Con was mostly for sci-fi and comic-based
movies,” I said.

“It
started that way, and that’s still the focus. But more and
more, anything broader pop culture-related has a presence here.”

“Have
you seen that doctor guy yet? Weren’t you all excited about
him?”

His
brow furrowed. “What doctor guy?”

“You
know, that show you’re always watching in London. With the
weird aliens and those trash cans that kill everything. Dr. Howl?”

Thomas
closed his eyes, as if in pain. “
Dr.
Who
, Lizzie. Good
lord, that’s a British institution. It’s been on since
1963. You are not allowed to move to London if you don’t know
who Dr. Who is.”

I
cringed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re
going to have the collected works on DVD waiting for me when I get
home, aren’t you?”

“Yes.
It’s only thirty-two seasons. You’ll get through it in no
time.”

Before
I could tell him that I most definitely would not be watching
thirty-two seasons of British sci-fi, my phone rang. “It’s
Ciara!” I said, not bothering to hide my excitement. We’d
spent the last several weeks going back and forth on my manuscript.
The last time we had talked, she had told me she was going to do a
final read through before letting me know if she thought it was ready
to send to publishers.

“Answer
it!” He sounded nearly as excited as I was.

Grinning,
I brought the phone up to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hello,
Lizzie, it’s Ciara.”

“Hi!
How’s it going?”

“It’s
going very well. How’s San Diego treating you?”

“It’s
very nice. I can’t believe how warm and sunny it is.”

She
chuckled. “Makes me wish the publishing capital of the world
would move to the other coast. But I’m sure that’s not
what you’re waiting to hear, is it?”

“Well,
not exactly.”

I
could tell she was smiling on the other end of the phone. “Then
let’s get right to it. I think your book is in wonderful shape
to start the submission process. In fact, I’ve been dropping
some hints and mentioning the project to some colleagues of mine, and
there’s already interest.”

“Really?”
I squeaked, disbelieving.

“Really.
I think it’s time we get you out here so you can start meeting
with some publishers. We may very well have an auction on our hands.”

My
mouth dropped open. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Thomas
waving his hands and mouthing, “What? What?”

“Are
you kidding?”

“I
wouldn’t joke about something like that, Lizzie,” she
assured me. “When do you think you can come to New York?”

My
mind whirred through the responsibilities I had at home. “Is
two weeks too late?”

“Two
weeks is perfect. I’m going to start setting up meetings and
making arrangements for your transportation and accommodations
immediately.”

“I
can’t…I mean…I’m a little overwhelmed! This
is happening so fast.”

“You’ve
put a lot of time and hard work into that book, Lizzie. Years’
worth. You deserve to have good things happen.”

“Wow…
Thank you, Ciara.”

“Now,
there are no guarantees in this business, of course, but I would be
quite optimistic if I were you. I’ll have my assistant email
you the flight information and hotel details when I have them. Enjoy
your time in San Diego.”

I
laughed. “Well, I think I’ll enjoy it much more now!”

When
I finally hung up, Thomas was practically jumping up and down in
front of me. “Well?” he cried. “What did she say?”

“She
thinks the book is ready to start shopping. And she’s mentioned
it to a few editors and she has interest. Already. She wants me to
come out to New York to meet with publishers. She thinks it might go
to auction.”

“Holy
shit,” he muttered, staring at me. Suddenly his face broke into
a huge smile, and he swung me up into the air and around in a circle.
“Lizzie, that’s amazing!”

I
laughed, the spinning motion matching what was happening inside my
head. I couldn’t believe this was real. An agent was going to
fly me to New York and set up meetings with publishers! This was my
dream, my life-long dream, and it was happening.

“We
have to celebrate,” Thomas said, finally releasing me.

“Your
schedule is a little packed for celebrating,” I pointed out,
not bothered by it in the least. Nothing could bring me down, not
today.

“Well
we are going to the
Entertainment
Now
party tomorrow,”
he said. “That’s a chance to get all dressed up and drink
champagne, isn’t it?”

“Good
point.” I didn’t mention that we would be spending most
of the evening networking with executives in his industry. I knew he
would drop it all to concentrate on me if I asked him to, but I had
no desire to do so. We could celebrate for real when—if—my
book actually sold.

There
was a knock on the dressing room door and Thomas groaned. “That’s
probably my call,” he said. “I can’t believe I have
to leave you right now!”

“Don’t
worry about it,” I assured him. “There are thousands of
screaming fans out there waiting for you.” I gave him a soft
kiss. “Besides, this will give me a chance to call everyone I
know and squeal incessantly.”

He
laughed, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’m so
proud of you.”

“Be
proud when my book sells.”

There
was a second knock, so I patted his face. “Go on, get out
there. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

He
gave me a last kiss before turning to the door and the fans that
waited beyond it. I waited approximately three seconds after he left
before I called Sofie, my mother, and Callie, in that order. Just as
I predicted, there was plenty of squealing.

My
second experience walking a red carpet as a star’s girlfriend
was much easier than the first. When I had joined Thomas for the
premiere of
Darkness
Falls
in London, I had
been more scared than I had ever been in my life. The mere prospect
of having to dress up, of people possibly taking my picture, of being
compared in any way to the actors and actresses that walked the red
carpet with us had seemed unbearably daunting. It had taken the
combined efforts of Callie and an entire team of makeup, hair, and
fashion advisers to get me out of the apartment and into the car.

This
time, however, I felt much more at ease. Which isn’t to say I
was comfortable or without fear—I still got sweaty and shaky
whenever I thought too much about the red carpet portion of the
event. But the fear was much more manageable, in large part because
the unknown wasn’t a factor. I knew what I was doing now—knew
how I was supposed to look and what I was supposed to say when
questioned. I knew what it felt like to stand there in front of a
crowd of people all screaming my boyfriend’s name, trying to
smile while they snapped our picture.

It
also helped that Annie and her husband Nate would be there. Thomas’s
Earth’s Ending
co-star made it hard to dwell on my fear. She was so funny and down
to earth—so completely and refreshingly normal. We met up with
the couple for lunch in San Diego the afternoon of the party, and she
spent much of the time giving me gossip on all the people we might
see. She knew all the actors and actresses who had slept with
producers to get ahead, everyone who’d had plastic surgery,
and, the worst offense in her book, all the people who were rude to
the crew.

“You
know Brooklyn Parsons?” she asked, the French fry in her
fingers paused midway between her plate and mouth.

I
scrunched up my nose as she popped the fry in her mouth, racking my
brain for the name. Finally, I shrugged. “I, uh, am not the
best authority on celebrity,” I told her, slightly embarrassed.
But she merely laughed, along with Thomas, who had been teasing me
about taking Imogen’s celebrity class all week.

“Good
for you. Don’t fall into the trap of worshiping these people,
Lizzie. None of them deserves it.” She pointed her thumb over
her shoulder in Nate’s general direction. “That guy got
totally infatuated with celebrity culture after I started doing
movies. He gets all tongue-tied and star-struck.” She grinned
at me wickedly and continued in her loudest stage whisper. “It’s
embarrassing.”