Page 20 of Anyone But the Superstar

‘See, I told you they were expecting us.’ The blonde pregnant woman elbows the brunette.

While everyone is focused on the director greeting the author ofCountdown to Love, Jack inches closer. ‘What’s wrong?’

I answer while keeping my eyes ahead and my smile in place. ‘I saw Anne.’

‘Here?’ He isn’t murmuring anymore.

Amanda turns to us. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Ah, I was just wondering who the newcomers are.’ Jack nods at the two pregnant women who Ron is busy air-kissing.

‘Oh.’ Amanda points to the floral dress. ‘That’s the author ofCountdown to Love.’ She drops her hand, a bemused expression on her face. ‘I’m not sure who the other woman is, though.’

Scanning the crowd for Anne, I catch the eye of the reporter fromEntertainment Dailyand force my gaze back to Ron and the pregnant duo. The last thing I need is for her to smell blood in the water on the first day of production.

There’s a lull in the crowd’s murmuring, allowing everyone to hear the writer introduce the woman beside her. ‘This is my friend Rose.’ She grimaces at Ron. ‘The, uh, consultant I mentioned.’

‘Hello.’ Rose shakes Ron’s outstretched hand with one arm and claps him on the back with the other.

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen the veteran director startled.

Amanda rounds the table to walk over to them.

Jack motions for me to follow. ‘Go greet the writer. I’ll see if I can find your paparazzi Cinderella.’

I open my mouth to argue but Ron cuts me off.

‘And this is our leading man, Felix Jones.’

I straighten under everyone’s gaze and force my feet to move in the opposite direction they want to go. The direction Jack moves in.

I reach the group just as Amanda holds the blonde’s hand under the overhead fluorescents. ‘Great nail polish.’

Dragging my eyes away from Jack, I notice the gargantuan diamond on the pregnant woman’s left ring finger before taking note of emerald glitter polish that perfectly matches her large, gemstone studs.

‘See?’ Rose throws the writer a satisfied look. ‘I told you this polish wasn’t too much.’

Audrey Cole rolls her eyes. ‘I was talking aboutyoubeing too much, not your nail polish.’

‘Never mind that.’ Em, seemingly popping out of nowhere, pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a visible, long, deep breath. Then, as if completely nonplussed, the PR manager straightens, her smile as blinding as her outfit.

She could teach young starlets a thing or two about image perception.

‘Everyone—’ Em’s voice carried over the crowd ‘—this is Audrey Cole, the author ofCountdown to Love.’

Fighting the urge to turn and follow Jack through the crowd, I hold out my hand like the good little Hollywood puppet I am. ‘Pleasure, Ms Cole.’ When she takes it, I hold hers in both of mine. ‘I hope we do you and your book proud.’

‘Damn.’ Rose, next to Audrey Cole, gives me a long once-over that I’m pretty sure a married pregnant woman should not be giving men other than her husband.

I release the author’s hand to offer my own to the blonde, but she steps back, both hands up as if in surrender.

‘That’s probably not wise.’ Rose’s sudden contrite look conflicts with the up-tilted corners of her mouth. ‘I’m in a certain stage of my pregnancy that requires my husband’s special attention at irregular, yet frequent times and—’ she gives me a thorough assessment, one that makes me want to double-check that my fly isn’t down ‘—now is definitely one of those times.’ Then, pivoting on her platform sneakers, she hustle-waddles toward the building’s exit, calling, ‘Text me later.’

‘I told you to be careful with that smile,’ Amanda whispers next to me.

‘She was already pregnant,’ I mutter, pretending to follow the woman’s exit from the building, while looking for adifferentblonde.

Audrey Cole smiles at everyone before pulling a folded fan from her purse. ‘Nice to meet y’all.’ She unfurls the fan – the same floral print as her dress – and flutters it, making the tendrils at her temples dance gently in its breeze. ‘Audrey Cole is my pen name. Feel free to call me Trish.’

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