Page 110 of One Wrong Move

Nate is at my side a second later and offers me his arm. We walk on the red carpet together and into the dazzling sea of celebrities, photographers, and elegantly dressed as if we do this every night.

Harper

“Am I dreaming?” I whisper. Nate is standing beside me in the magnificent lobby of this theater, both of us holding a flute of champagne. Around us are such glamorous and fashionable people that I’m trying to take mental snapshots from every angle.

One of my favorite period actresses is standing just thirty measly feet away. Talking, smiling, hair in a messy bun, and wearing a slinky yellow dress. Her skin looks like it could have been airbrushed. I wonder if she’s wearing the body makeup I’ve heard about on social media.

“I think I’m dreaming,” I state. “Yes, I am.”

Nate chuckles softly. “You’re not.”

“I’m going to have to add attend a movie premiere to my list of things, just so I can tick this off. This undeniably qualifies as an insane new experience.”

“I’m glad,” he says, and his voice sounds smug. “Figured you’d like this night. And the main event hasn’t even begun.”

“Were you planning on bringing someone else here?” I ask hesitantly. “And things fell through?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Well… No.”

“How’d you get tickets to this?”

“I pulled a few strings,” he says.

“Did you… did it… you were going here anyway,” I guess. “And you had an extra ticket?”

Nate’s eyes are steady on mine. “No.”

I have to swallow. “Oh.”

“You love these stories so much, you wanted to visit their filming locations.” He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Plus, I look damn good in a tux. It’s a win-win.”

That makes me giggle. “You do, actually. It’s practically criminal.”

“And we can’t always be in a rowboat on a pond. Or in the pond. Sometimes, we do things like this.” His lips curve. “Don’t worry, Harp. Tomorrow, we’ll be back in the townhouse with Quincy and Stanley. Did you hear from Richard?”

“Yes, he’s coming home tomorrow. I’m looking forward to seeing him.” But then I shake my head. If he hadn’t been planning on going here, if he didn’t have another date, if this was a last-minute thing… He did this just for me? “Wait, how did you get these tickets, then?”

“There are strings. I pulled on them.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” he drawls and takes a slow sip of his champagne. “It would mean implicating you in some criminal secrets, and I?—”

“What?”

He grins. “I made a phone call and donated some money to a charity. It wasn’t hard, Harper. Getting access never is.”

“Not when you’re Nate Connovan,” I say.

He holds out his arm. “There has to be some perks to my miserable existence. Come on. Let’s try to mingle our way to the most famous person in the room.”

By the time the bells ring, and everyone enters the theater to take their seats, I feel almost giddy. I’ve spoken to three actors, two of whom I’ve loved for years. Each of them was both shorter and skinnier in person. I guess there’s some truth to that saying about the camera adding a few pounds.

Practically vibrating with excitement, I settle into the seat with Nate on my right. The director of the film is here, and he and the actors speak on stage for a solid ten minutes before the movie starts to roll.

Someone regularly tops up our champagne as we watch. Offers us various snacks and hors d’oeuvres.

I’ll never be able to go to a normal movie theater again.

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