Page 99 of The Boss I Can't Stand
I perked up, my head whipping in Sierra’s direction. Holy shit. This was it. I watched as she clutched Ro’s hand, wishing it was mine and wondering if her heart was beating out of her chest.
“Costume design is often the quiet partner in a film’s success,” Theo continued, “but there’s an immeasurable impact to fabric choices,colors, patterns, even the very stitches that are made. From that first sketch to the final fitting, no film can truly shine without the magic of costumes.”
My hands grew sweaty, the blood in my veins trembling.
“So, without further ado,” Theo said, “here are the nominees for Best Costume Design.”
Sierra’s face appeared on the massive screen next to the stage as the nominees were announced. She smiled warmly, her cheeks pinking, and my chest ached with want at the sight. I squeezed the arms of my chair so tightly my knuckles blanched.
“And the Oscar goes to…” Theo said, opening the envelope. The pause lasted eons.
Read the name, dammit!
“Sierra Banks!” he announced as the thunderous roar of applause exploded in my ears. “ForEvery Day Is Sunday!”
My head spun, my thoughts ricocheting in a thousand different directions as I jumped to my feet, clapping so hard my palms hurt. A wave of emotion spiraled through me as I watched Sierra hug Ro and the other people around her before making her way to the front and up onto the stage where she accepted her award from Theo.
He kissed her cheek.Bastard! Then stepped back, leaving her to move up to the microphone with a teary-eyed smile. “First off, I want to thank my gorgeous and incredibly talented assistant costume designers. Carter, Trin, Paisley…without you, everyone would definitely be naked!”
A murmur of laughter shifted through the audience. Sierra shook her head, staring down at the award as she continued to thank the cast and crew and Hart of Gold Productions before getting the signal to start wrapping things up.
“And finally,” she concluded, “this award is for all the girls out there who need someone to remind them to believe in themselves. We are truly capable of anything. All we have to do is be brave—especially when it comes to the things we love. And in honor of that, I’d like to dedicate this award to my mother, who’s spent her whole life showing me that it’s okay to love and to love hard.”
She stepped away from the mic and left the stage, likely off to do the usual post-win press interviews. I waited impatiently for her to return, watching award after award get handed out, but she never came back, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what had happened. Had she taken a different seat? Could her interviews really be taking this long?
A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I realized with a sudden burst of nerves that we had reached almost the end of the ceremony. Gianna Pectorini—legendary actress, Hollywood darling, and philanthropist—walked across the stage in an elegant blue gown.
Her short, graying hair was styled in soft waves, the lines by her lips wrinkled with her smile, but her eyes were sharp as she gave the audience a knowing look and stepped up to the microphone, thumbing the envelope in her hand.
There was only one award left to present, and it was the biggest one of all. Gianna was about to announce which movie had won Best Picture.
“Every film nominated tonight tells a story that moved us, challenged us, and reminded us why we first fell in love with cinema,” Gianna said, reading off the prompter.
“These ten brilliant films reflect the best of storytelling, from the intimately personal to the wildly imaginative. They have lit up screens and captured hearts around the world. Tonight, we celebrate that monumental achievement. Here are the nominees for Best Picture.”
X’s hand tightened on my shoulder as the lights dimmed and a montage of clips played on the screen. My breath caught in my throat asEvery Dayappeared among them. This was the culmination of an entire year’s worth of blood, sweat, and tears. This was the moment I was going to prove to the industry that Hart of Gold was capable of so much more than just mindless action flicks.
Blood rushed past my ears. This would be the moment I showed everyone what I could do.
X leaned close to my ear from the row behind. “Whatever happens,” he said. “Just know that we made a damn good movie.”
I nodded. Time was suspended, hovering in that strange, surreal space where the world quieted to nothing more than a murmur.
The montage finished. All eyes were on Gianna. “And the Oscar goes to…”
I held my breath. I could hear my heartbeat picking up in my ears—a faintlub-dubsomewhere inside me.
Gianna fiddled with the envelope, laughing as it snagged on her fingernail. The rush of my heart intensified, my pulse spiking.Lub. Dub. Lub. Dub. The sound echoed louder…my blood rushed faster…Dub. Dub. Dub!
“…Every Day Is Sunday!”
I soared to my feet again, turning around and hugging X and my mother in a moment of total elation. The applause crashed over me, deafening and unreal. It felt like I was waking from a dream, from something I’d rehearsed a thousand times but had never gotten to live. And now I wanted to savor every second—the congratulatory wishes being hurled at me, the blur of faces, the sheer euphoria of winning. But beneath all that adrenaline, a single thought flickered: Find Sierra.
Before I could, I was being dragged in a flood of cast and crew up to the stage. In the chaos, I searched for Sierra, my eyes scanning the gathered crowd as people hugged and cheered and wiped tears from their eyes.
Someone placed the Oscar in my hand. I exhaled slowly, trying to center myself. There’s no way Sierra would have missed this moment. Even Ro was up here. I paused next to Jillian on my way to the mic. “Have you seen Sierra?” I whispered.
Jillian shook her head.
