Page 133 of Bishop's Queen

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The red carpet had been a blur, and the green room was supposed to be somewhat calming.

Ella sipped water and watched Tara upload behind-the-scenes pictures online, cross-posting everywhere. The category that Ella was presenting came early in the awards show, so she’d been immediately whisked backstage.

“That was easy.” Finished, Tara dumped the phone into her purse and moved behind Ella, rubbing her shoulder as though she was readying an athlete for a match. “One of the best red carpets you have ever had.”

“Thanks, Coach.” Disagreeing took energy. Ella had simply delivered the talking points that Tara had drilled into her head. They had flowed like water, mainly because they were based off of issues that Ella was a true believer in, but having had the verbiage crafted for her was, for the first time, a gift from Tara that she’d used. “I aced the rope line and didn’t fall flat on my face.”

“And you gave details on the lavender and mint project. Rallied the Vamanato haters. Fist-bumped the beekeepers and easily reminded prime-time viewers that the environment is as trendy as your dress. Andeveryoneis talking about this little number.That’s what teamwork is all about.”

Tara had prepped several reporters about the incident at Seneca but also had given themtonsof backstory on Eco-Ella projects. So even as Ella had ignored the drama-filled questions about the accident—no mention of the stalker and little of Jay—she could finally boast about the venture that had nearly killed her and Manny.

“I appreciate it. Really.”

Tara gave Bishop a placating thumbs-up. “And you kept us safe. Way to make sure this holding cell of a green room is super safe from hostile takeovers.”

He grunted his non-amusement, not lessening the uncomfortable tension in the air. Bishop had remained either ten feet in front or behind her, even between pressers and photo ops, never once adding to the conversation with Tara. He’d behaved like any other security detail that was assigned toactualcelebrities.

Internally, this event had ginned up a lot of what she liked to call impostor syndrome. Because there was no way in the world she was supposed to be there. Though with how her notifications were blowing up after Tara had just posted those pics…

“Thousand likes already on this one,” Tara mumbled. “And thousand plus thumbs-up over here on this vlog. Plenty are tuned in.”

Bishop’s phone buzzed, which was different than him talking into his wrist, which he had been doing since they left the hotel. “Hey, Locke.”

He turned to the wall so she couldn’t hear, not that she wanted to anyway. But why was he on the phone?

Tara narrated from hers. “Tonight’s trending pretty much everywhere.”

Everyone was on their phones, and Ella felt naked without one. But for the purposes of making a point, she didn’t ask for it from Tara. “Great.”

Bishop handed the phone to Tara. “Locke needs to talk to you.”

Ah, that was why it wasn’t a wrist-and-earpiece convo.

“Perfect.” Tara paced. “Yes, I want to see that.”

She hung up and handed Bishop his phone back.

“You want to do more behind-the-scenes video or pictures?” Tara asked, perhaps trying to saw through the pressure and keep her limber for the stage.

“Not really.” Ella had morphed into a machine, but it was exhausting, and she needed to save all the faux candor for the stage.

“Right. So what would you like? A candle?” Tara opened a drawer against the wall, peeking around the corner at the vanity and couch. “They have incense.”

“Actually, I’d just like to be by myself. Can I do that?” She turned toward Bishop. “Is that allowed?”

“Sure. The talent gets what the talent wants.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, you two.” Tara rolled her eyes. “Yes, Ella. Bishop and I can stand outside the room. Not a problem. Do you want to stick with still water, or I can find you sparkling?”

“Really, I’m fine.” There was a mini fridge if she suddenly couldn’t handle flat water, and she could get it herself. “I just want to be alone.”

Tara touched her arm. “All right.”

“We’ll be right outside the door,” Bishop said, stiffly moving to the door and holding it open for Tara.

Ella paced back and forth in the tiny, L-shaped room then dropped into a chair in front of the vanity. “Keep it together.”

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