Page 55 of Bishop's Queen

“Ten seconds, then off you go.”

“Tara,” Bishop growled. “She’s got it.”

Once Tara stepped away, Ella took a breath, counted to ten, painted on her smile, and made an entrance worthy of the red carpet. She concentrated on not tripping over her dress. The skirt wasn’t the problem. She wore maxi-length dresses all the time. It was the damn heels.

It wasn’t her first entrance. She moved along in front of the backdrop covered in sponsorships and the Bloggie logo.Walk, wave, pose, repeat.She pivoted, looking over her shoulder and waiting. Bishop watched. Ella angled her face, changed directions, then did the same thing. Every time she saw Bishop, his eyes were trained on the crowd, rotating the way they had that night in the bistro.

At the end of the step-and-repeat, Tara pushed her around the corner, and the cheers from the rope line started.

“Eco-Ella!”

“Ella Leighton!”

Click. Click. Click.

“Ella! BigUnder the Rooffans over here!”

“Ella! Over here!”

The lights and cameras glared as she walked the line. She’d done it before, and with Hollywood in town for the award ceremony and dinner, she knew she would see her favorite and not-so-favorite reporters.

Hellos were said. Talking points were done. Over-the-shoulder looks were ordered and given. But with each passing step, her anxiety grew. The slime, the flowers, whoever was messing with her knew she would be there tonight. Was he there? What did he want? Could he see her now? Had she talked to him already on the rope line? Her breaths became shorter and tighter.

At the end of the red carpet, after she’d done every possible pose on the step-and-repeat, every inch of forward momentum became a challenge. Her heels felt heavy. She couldn’t make it to the end. Was this a panic attack?

Bishop locked eyes on her, mouthing, “Come here.”

He was a lifeline, exactly what she needed while Tara was bitching and moaning about who knew what. He didn’t even notice Tara at his side. The strength of his intense stare was Ella’s oxygen.

He didn’t break eye contact as though she were the most precious thing in the world—of courseshe was. She was his job. How did she keep forgetting? Her stomach fell like an A-lister who had committed social suicide. But his reasons didn’t matter. Bishop did what it took to get her out of the line of sight, where no photographers could catch a glimpse of her panic. For that, she should be grateful.

As soon as she was safe, Tara led the way, oblivious to the disaster Ella had almost brought on herself. Bishop followed. Ella could sense his proximity even as she tried to ignore him. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw his green eyes hunting, searching.

The three of them crossed a threshold into the auditorium, which had been transformed into a banquet hall for the awards show. Circles of tables covered the impressive room. Music played, and the stage was close. Ella had a primo seat. Their VIP table had seats for other industry folks joining them, who Tara had expertly arranged. The night would be perfect.

The crowd of who’s who buzzed with flocks of people, but Ella didn’t fit in at all. Though she did. It was her night. Apparently, even Vegas had bet on her to win big. Her palms sweated at the thought, and she closed her fists. Where was Jay? Having her friends around felt like a security blanket, especially in this crowd.

“Here we go,” Tara chirped. She pulled her phone from her bag and scanned a few video clips that they would use for B-roll. “Ready?”

“Sure.” She took the phone that Tara handed her and drank in a deep breath, pressing the button to go live. The screen counted down—three, two, one…

“I’m here, warriors!” Ella rotated partially to show the enormity of the room. “Before the Bloggies start. Another night where I throw the flip-flops to the side and step into the limelight”—she made a face—“which isreally notmy thing, to bring to light everything we’ve done. Thanks for doing the heavy lifting for our cause, and I promise that no matter what happens tonight, I’ll keep up the fight. So, signing off…”

Dang.

There were a lot of questions and comments about Jay. He’d always popped into the awards show videos and most of the other ones too. Since when was a lack of Jay on the red carpet conversation worthy? When did hersocial lifebecome part of the topic list?

“Sorry, everyone. Jay’s working the room somewhere.” She read the scrolling comments and questions then looked off camera. “No, I don’t see him.” Though Bishop was there, and if her fans wanted to see a handsome man in a tux, he knocked Jay out of the arena. “But there’s plenty of things to look at.”

She slowly panned, walking in a circle, eyes on Bishop. Until he realized what she was doing. His hand shot out, and that man movedfast.

“Well, you’ll just have to trust me. I have to go. Chat with you later. Like, comment, and share.” She ended the feed.

Bishop scowled. “What the hell—”

Tara clapped her hands together. “That wasamazing!”

“It was just an idea.”

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