Summertime & Butterflies

Thirty-Two

The sun had long set but the dark city appeared more lit up than usual. The street lights were hardly noticeable over the intense flashing of the photographer's cameras. Paparazzi, reporters and fans had hurried from the Odeon to the after party to stake out a spot in front of the entrance. They were each hoping to get a glimpse, autograph or an interview with a star of the film, but as the cast was officially in party-mode, it would prove more difficult to get what they wanted.

The roomy back seat of the sedan seemed the size of a small apartment with just Harry and Olivia. Anne and Gemma had decided against attending the after party, and Harry hadn't extended the invite to Jeff and Glenne. Jeff had clearly upset Harry, and while Olivia desperate for details and a small dose of bad-mouthing, she wouldn't bring it up before the party.

"Jeez..." Olivia commented under her breath as the driver stopped the car about half a block from the club. She could hear the shouts and cries, the crowd yelling out Tom's name as Harry's co-star arrived at the party just ahead of them. Olivia's stomach tumbled as she realised it would be the first time she and Harry would be in a public photo together.

Harry squeezed Olivia's hand. "Just calm down," he advised her, echoing her own words from earlier. "You look beautiful," he promised, kissing her knuckles. "And besides, they're here for me, not you," he teased.

Olivia rolled her eyes and swatted Harry's knee. "Yes, Meryl Streep," she answered with a good-natured sigh. "I know."

Harry smirked, tugging Olivia closer to her before pressing a sweet kiss against her lips. "Hey, I prefer Ingrid Bergman," he joked. "But seriously, honey. We'll get out of the car, take just a few steps past only a few cameras, and then we'll be inside, alone... With a bunch of other people that worked on the film who you don't know... that I hardly do, really. But... open bar," he added, raising his eyebrow.

Olivia nodded. It would be fine. She would be fine – she was wearing Spanx and Versace. She'd be okay.

"Just... don't scowl," Harry advised as the car crept forward. "You'll want to squint, because of the lights, but don't." He wasn't saying what he wanted to say - that much was clear to Olivia. She suspected he was trying to tell her not to look bitchy, because the fans would have a field day with that, but he was proving to Olivia that sometimes he could be a smart man and keep his mouth shut. Sometimes.

Olivia turned to him, the aforementioned scowl on her face. "I don't scowl!" she shot back indignantly. She knew she did, and would, but she didn't need Harry reminding her to not make her face wrinkle up like a bitter old lady's.

"I know!" Harry corrected. "Just... don't. Just keep your face loose and... and... You know, like this?" he suggested, allowing  the muscles in his face to go limp as he stared into space. He held the pose for a beat or two before grinning at Olivia. "Just like that, see? Just, like... meh! Right?"

Olivia shook her head. "If I do that, everyone will think you're dating a helmet wearing, short bus rider... when really, that's who I'm dating," she teased, clutching his hand again as the car came to a stop. Despite the tinted windows, the intense camera flashing made it seem like the windows were open on a sunny day.

Harry leaned across the seat, kissing Olivia before the driver opened the door. "I love you," he assured her, touching her hand before he stepped out of the car. An onslaught of shouts and flashes greeted Harry, but he ignored them as he turned back to the car to assist Olivia in her exit.

Olivia suddenly realised she hadn't practised exiting a car in a dress. The only thing worse than looking like a scowling bitch in the pictures would be flashing her Spanx for everyone to see. At least Harry was standing in front of her, blocking any unintentional flashing.