Power Play (39 page)

She hadn't prepared any sort of speech, afraid that it would jinx her chances of winning. Still, if she
did
win, she had a pretty good idea whom she'd thank.

Gloria and Monty seemed deep in conversation, leaning into one another, their mouths going a mile a minute. It was possible they were arguing, but from what Monica could see, Gloria wasn't scowling, and Monty wasn't sneering. Gloria must have accepted his apology. Monica was glad she'd engineered this reunion. She was also glad Gloria hadn't worn her old von Fürstenberg dress. Unfortunately, she'd decided to wear a tiara.

Monica hung back a few minutes more, then returned to the table. Her friends' conversation was impassioned but appeared devoid of rancor, at least right now. Gloria glanced over at her as she took her seat next to Monty, and winked. Monica heaved a big sigh of relief and poured herself a glass of champagne. Hopefully, this was a harbinger of a wonderful night to come.

 

“Here it comes, darling.”

Gloria leaned past Monty to squeeze Monica's hand. They were waiting for the presenter for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Daytime Drama to take the stage, where he or she would read out the nominations, tear open the envelope, and then—and then—Monica was too rattled to even complete the thought. On the outside she was cool as a cucumber, but inside, her guts were somersaulting.

So far, the big upset of the evening had been Royce winning the Award for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Daytime Drama. Monica had nearly choked on the shrimp she was eating, but she recovered quickly and congratulated her costar, who seemed so genuinely touched and humbled as he accepted his award that for a few seconds, she was able to forget she couldn't stand him.

“Ladies and gentlemen.”

The ballroom murmur turned to silence in an instant. Monica was squeezing the stem of her champagne flute so hard she was afraid it might shatter in her hand.

“Here to present the Award for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Daytime Drama is longtime soap fan Eric Mitchell of the New York Blades.”

Monica put down her champagne flute and tried not to faint.

THIRTY-FOUR

Eric. Onstage, in a tuxedo, beaming down at her.
I'll be watching you,
he'd said. He'd neglected to tell her it would be face-to-face.

Monica's heart was pounding so loud, she feared people would think there was drummer crouching beneath her table. She folded her hands in her lap like a polite little schoolgirl to keep herself from wringing them. How could a few seconds feel so damn interminable?

Eric cleared his throat—
He's nervous,
Monica thought, though how a man so suave and photogenic could be nervous about anything was beyond her—then focused his attention on the TelePrompTer. “The nominees for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Daytime Drama are: Monica Geary,
The Wild and the Free
.”

The audience applauded enthusiastically as a camera zoomed in on Monica's face, projecting her image on a huge screen behind Eric. She knew she shouldn't betray how she was feeling, but she couldn't help it; she gave a small, nervous smile.

“
Tanya McKinnon,
Shadows and Horizons.”

More applause. Monica noticed as Tanya's image flashed on the screen that she gave the same nervous smile. Monica wondered if Tanya was on the verge of throwing up the way she was.

“Kim Calvados,
Golden Days, Passionate Nights
.”

Applause, but no smile from Kim. She looked as grim as a woman crossing the prairie by covered wagon in the 1840s.

“And last but not least, Jessica Nevelson,
Reap the Wild Wind
.”

Since Jessica was the final nominee, she prompted the final round of applause. The screen showed Jessica smiling confidently.
Ugh,
thought Monica. Tanya and Kim were worthy opponents. But Jessica ranked with Chesty in terms of talent. Monica hated being petty, but all she could think was,
If Jessica wins, I'll shove a dessert fork in my eye.

The anticipation in the room had been building all night, a rumbling volcano eager to explode. Eric flashed one of his devastating smiles that made Monica weak at the knees as he began tearing open the envelope. “And the winner is . . . Kim Calvados,
Golden Days, Passionate Nights
.”

Okay, Kim could act. But still.
Shit shit shit shit.
Monica felt like someone had sharpened a flint and was scraping it up and down the inside of her throat. On the outside, though, she was completely professional. She'd been in this position four times now, so she knew that the polite thing to do was look happy for Kim. Afterward, she'd tell the press, “It was an honor just to be nominated.” She wondered what would happen if just once, one of the losers told the truth and said, “I'm really upset!
I
deserved the Award!” Well, she'd never know.

Kim had already started crying before she reached the podium. Eric gave her a small peck on the cheek before handing her the Award, then moved off to the side so she could give her acceptance speech. Being a decent actor, he looked pleased for Kim. But Monica knew deep down, he was disappointed for her.

Thankfully, Kim's acceptance speech was short. Monica had been to enough Award shows to know that everyone in the audience hated when their cohorts went on and on, thanking everyone from their sainted granny in Missouri to their pet poodle, Daisy. Another round of applause accompanied Kim's departure from the stage with the statuette that Monica feared would never grace her own mantelpiece. Eric was supposed to exit the stage so the next presenter could come on and give out the Award for Outstanding Daytime Drama. Instead, he moved back to the podium. The flint in Monica's throat halted midscrape.

Eric's eyes sought hers, his expression unabashedly adoring. As far as Monica was concerned, there were only two people in the room right now: herself and the man she loved.

“Anyone who competes for any prize is disappointed when they don't win. I know: my team, the New York Blades, didn't make it into the playoffs this year. But I think I have something that might help Monica Geary over her loss tonight.”

He reached into one of the front pockets of his tux and held up a sparkling diamond ring. “I love you, Monica,” he said humbly. “Will you marry me?”

Monica felt her stomach plummet to her feet as he mouthed, “I love you,” to her. She took her eyes from his for just a second as one of Gloria's pointy nails stabbed at her bare shoulder.

“Go up there,” Gloria hissed. “Go up there and accept!”

Monica turned back to Eric. It still felt as though all the tables around her had vanished, and she and Eric were alone in some enchanted place where time was suspended. She rose slowly, floating toward the podium where the man she loved stood waiting, the engagement ring in his hand refracting the colors of the rainbow as the blazing lights above the stage hit it.

Eric met her at the top of the steps.

“I can't believe you did this,” Monica whispered in awe.

“C'mon. You know what a ham I am,” he whispered back. “You look incredibly beautiful tonight, by the way.”

“And you're so handsome I could die.” She gave him one of her little pinches.

“How did you wangle becoming a presenter?”

Eric grinned. “Theresa arranged it for me. When I told the producers of the show I intended to propose, they went nuts. Real romance in a TV genre that specializes in it and all that.”

“Smooth, Mitchell. Very smooth.”

They were standing together in front of the miked podium now. Eric held out the ring to her. It was a gorgeous two-carat marquise-cut diamond, the band platinum. There was a slight tremble in his hand as he awaited her answer. Monica's breath hitched, moved. How could he ever doubt what it would be?

“Yes, I'll marry you,” Monica said, voice cracking with emotion. She couldn't hold back her tears of joy any longer. She wept as Eric slipped the ring onto her finger, and the crowd broke into mad applause. Eric grabbed her tight, his face nuzzling her hair.

“You know who we are?” he whispered into her ear.

“Who?”

“Two famous people who are hot. How about you give me your number and we set the world on fire?” he murmured sexily, using the exact lines he'd tried to pick her up with the first time they met.

Monica laughed. “I'm so glad I went against every sane instinct I had and agreed to Theresa's crazy scheme.”

“I'm glad you did, too.” He held out his arm to her. “Shall we?”

“Where are we going?”

He kissed her softly. “Somewhere I can't wait to get to: the rest of our lives.”