That Blue Gibson

CH 2

Liz waited patiently as Mark collected the necessary laminates and paperwork for the media circus while Travis began to fidget with his cufflinks. The tent began to fill with even more people and Travis began pace.

"You're killing me," Liz laughed as he edged closer to her.

"I hate crowds," he murmured, still scanning around them.

"Then you picked the wrong profession," she teased. Travis grinned and clipped a laminate to his lapel.

"I think it chose me," he replied. "We're up!"

He gently led Liz to the other side of the tent where a severe-looking woman in a black sensible dress and was yelling into a headset.

"Elizabeth Colbert on deck!" she barked, then quickly flung back a thick canvas curtain.

Liz gasped at the sudden movement and took a slight step backward. She felt her heel catch on her train and her arms flew out as she started to stumble, but Travis dove to keep her upright, giving her arm a comforting squeeze.

"HURRY UP!" the woman with the headset screeched, her eyes wide and arms flailing.

Flustered and embarrassed, Liz bolted out of the tent in a swirl of skirts. The moment her designer heel hit the carpet, the press wall exploded. Cameras flashed so constantly that it felt like a heat lamp was bearing down on her. They screamed her name, desperate to catch her attention just long enough so her eyes would be focused on their lens for the perfect shot. She took a deep breath and remembered what Mark and Josephine had told her to do. Angle your body, smile with teeth, keep your eyes neutral and above all, keep moving. Liz went through the movements, occasionally checking to see where Travis was lurking. He stood stoically off to the side, his eyes never leaving Liz's surroundings. She quickly moved on to the interviews and fan area before being ushered inside the theater, where the mood immediately changed from chaos to diamond encrusted cocktail party.

"Jesus," Travis whispered as they looked around them. To their immediate left was a popular hip-hop mogul with several women hanging on his every word. On their right was a pop star noted for her strange attempts at social activism. "That's fucking Stevie Nicks," Travis gasped, grabbing for Liz's arm.

"What? Where?" Liz whispered back, craning her neck to spot the legend in the mass of people. Just as she spied a shock of long blond hair, the crowd around them grew quiet and parted.

"Elizabeth!" a thick English accent called as a crew of men approached them.

A sigh of relief escaped Liz as she rushed forward to greet Paul McCartney. "Paul!" she cried, "You have no idea how happy I am to see you!"

"Ah! I wish all the pretty girls would greet me this way!" he laughed. A friendly, almost fatherly smile spread across Paul's face. He quickly kissed both her cheeks and pulled her in close. "I know that look, darling," he whispered. "Keep breathing."

Tears sprung to Liz's eyes and she quickly nodded them away.

"I believe we're headed the same way?" Paul asked and offered her his arm which she gratefully took. She smiled nervously as the crowd continued to part for them, all of them focused on the knighted legend at her side. Paul quickly acknowledged a few artists he knew as he quickly led her to a single unassuming door just near a sweeping staircase. "Through here, love," he winked and held the door wide so she could pass without her skirts catching. They paused in a harshly lit hallway as their security team reassembled behind them.

"You look simply divine, Elizabeth," Paul said, admiring her gown.

"Zac Posen," she replied. "He's a genius."