Uploading this just for ma gurl gracedkelly because she needs some Sebastian in her life!!!
xoxoxoxoxo
“James! Chloe! Over here!”
We turn at smile at the paparazzi, James’ arm around my waist, sliding along the satin material of my new dress, courtesy of James. Or rather, my ability to steal his credit card away from him. He had left the very next day after our engagement for a shoot in Boston, and he didn’t realize one of his cards was missing till 5 days later!
I haven’t seen him since that night, so the first thing he said to me when he saw me in this slinky jade green Roland Mouret number, was that it was worth it, and I can keep the card.
Win.
“James! James!” A well-known TV personality calls us over for an interview, so we give another polite smile at the cameras, then head over to Angela. I was surprised to actually find I love attending premieres with James. I had hated them before James, when I was ‘lucky’ enough to be the date of a couple of directors and producers, but it was whole new ball game with James.
He’s a famous star, so whoever he’s dating gets a whole lot of attention. I’ll be lying if I said that wasn’t flattering. And the attention isn’t so overwhelming so as to interfere with my day-to-day life. I’m just a lowly writer, after all.
And if you’re on the arm of a famous actor, it means you’ve gained entry into the dark secret world of celebrity politics. At first, I only watched from the sidelines, trying not to be shocked at the snide remarks flying back and forth between them. But once people realized I was here to stay in James’ life, I became a confidante of sorts. The middle man. Or woman. After parties were the best part of the premiere, because all I had to do was stand in a corner and celebrity after celebrity would flock to me and spill a juicy piece of gossip. All I had to do was nod or gasp at the appropriate times.
“James! Chloe! Congratulations on your engagement! And just look at that ring?! Isn’t it just fabu?! Show it off to the camera, Chloe! Go on!!” I bite back a grimace, and flash my flashy ring. “It’s perfect!! So fabu!”
Forcing a smile on my face, I lay the hand with the ring on James’ arm. “Thank you.”
“So James, we assume you proposed at La Traviatta?”
“Why,” He chuckles. “Whatever gave you that idea?” He and Angela laugh uproariously, and I put in a few small titters for good measure.
“So how did it happen? Was it as romantic as Lance’s proposal in All In Good Time?” Lance was James’ best loved character. Although I don’t know why, he was a one dimensional love besotted idiot.
“Well, why don’t we ask my future bride?”
Angela thrusts the microphone in my face. “Uh… it was better. Much better.”
“Ooooh, how fabu!!!” Her manicured claws grasp my arm and give it what I suppose was intended to be a ‘oh-you!’ type of squeeze. Instead, she nearly cuts off my blood circulation. “What happened? Dish on the details!! Come on, girlfriend, give us ladies something to fantasize about when we see James in his next GQ photoshoot!!!”
Girlfriend?
I give the camera as polite a smile I can muster, then turn to Angela. “I’m not the type to kiss and tell, Angela, but please, go ahead and use your imagination. Whatever you can come up with, James did better.”
Not exactly true but it works.
“Fabu!!! Just fabu!!! You are one lucky girl, Chloe!”
“Maybe he’s the lucky one to get me!” I quip back, and am met with her blank smile.
