Page 58 of #Starstruck

The officiant began the service, and admittedly Marisol surprised me. Austin had been a bit of a player and tended to date lanky, overly thin, supermodel-perfect types. Of course Marisol had flawless makeup and perfect hair and a gorgeous wedding dress, but she looked normal. Pretty, but normal.

Maybe there was hope for us regular girls, after all.

Chase caught my eye and winked, and I couldn’t help but grin back.

I hadn’t been to many weddings, but this one seemed to fly by. I wondered if that was partly because I was able to spend so much time admiring Chase in his expensive suit. The officiant pronounced the couple husband and wife, and they kissed as everyone cheered.

Music from the reception area started before the kiss had even finished. “Let’s party!” Austin called out to more cheers. There wasn’t an orderly procession out, just people standing up and making their way to the other tents.

“Are you hungry?” Chase asked when he’d jostled through the crowd.

I nodded. “Starving, actually.”

He told me Marisol had insisted on an informal buffet so guests could serve themselves (or not eat at all, as was the case for many of the actresses). But this was no regular buffet. It was a five-star restaurant version of comfort food, and there was enough of it to feed a small nation.

“What’s with all the yellow?” I asked Chase as he filled his plate with chicken wings and Kobe beef sliders.

“It’s Marisol’s favorite color. And Austin calls her his sunshine.”

Aw.“That is so sweet.”

“Yeah, he’s head over heels for her. They didn’t even sign a prenup.” He added some garlic potatoes to his plate. “Dessert now or later?”

“Look at that,” I breathed. There was an entire table filled with candy and desserts in shades of yellow. Lemon macaroons on silver trays, mini lemon meringue pies in little shot glasses, an apothecary jar full of yellow M&Ms.

And in the center of it all stood their five-tiergraywedding cake. “Why is it gray?” I whispered.

“Trendy?” he guessed.

“It looks like it died a hundred years ago and came back to haunt the reception.” Food was not supposed to be that color.

“Says the woman in the gray dress.”

“But I’m not supposed to be delicious.”

“Says who?” His lazy, predatory expression sent sparks skittering across my already sensitive nerves.

I shook my head as though he was silly, even though my heart was pounding louder than the bass from the speakers. He led me to an empty table, and I was glad. I didn’t really want to make small talk with people I’d watched on big and small screens my entire life.

“I’m going to have to run an extra mile tomorrow,” he said with a sigh as he looked over the mountain of food he’d piled on his plate.

“And I’m going to have to feel bad for you that you’re running an extra mile tomorrow.”

He laughed. “Hey, did you see who’s here?” Chase asked after he ate a slider in a single bite.

“Um, everybody in Hollywood?”

“There.” He pointed with his fork, and I followed it to ...

“No way.”

Alex Trebek, host ofJeopardy!,was here.

“Do you want to meet him?”

“What? No!” What would I say to Alex Trebek? “Maybe later.” After I’d built up some courage. I looked away, wanting to distract myself. I noticed a sign on the table and picked it up. It talked about how everything was sustainable, organic, farm-friendly, etc. “It says the confetti on the table was handcrafted from Austin and Marisol’s favorite books. Do you think anyone here knows you can actually buy confetti and not destroy books?”

“You mean the people who have a live wedding painter in the corner? They may not know.”

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