Page 48 of Screw Christmas
Pulling his lips away, he lowered his forehead to rest against mine. “I love you too, Maya.”
I smiled, tears forming in my eyes as I felt the words as much as I heard them. “For always.”
“Forever,” he confirmed.
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Epilogue
~ One Year Later ~
Maya
“I don’t think I can get out of the car,” I admitted to Dylan as the SUV pulled up to the curb of the venue where the Emmy’s were being held this year. The press didn’t give a shit about me, I wasn’t the attraction—Dylan was. But I was still the woman on his arm, and the pictures posted in the tabloids on society pages would have my picture as well. He seemed okay with the attention, he’d been the athletic star back in high school so maybe he was just used to it, but I doubted I ever could be.
Dylan laughed and gently gave my knee a squeeze. “Come on now. You can do it. Think of it this way, you won’t be the one let down when they call someone else’s name for the Best Supporting Actor in a drama category. Newcomers rarely win and this is my first role. It was a pity nomination at best.”
“What are you talking about? You’re going to get it. There’s not a doubt in my mind.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but I’m up against a lot of very talented actors. I was lucky just to secure the role.”
“You’ll see.” I was so invested in building him up, that it gave me a start when the door was opened and an usher was waved me out of the vehicle.
Taking a deep breath in, I smiled at him and slid from the vehicle. I’d chosen a long, silver gown with a slit that ran up my left side to my hip. I was more of a sweats girl, but there was a secret part of me that relished the attention and how sexy I felt in beautiful clothing and with my make-up and hair professionally done. Sure, I got flak from my co-workers at the station, but I could give it as good as I got it. You didn’t work with testosterone filled alpha males for a couple decades and not learn how to handle yourself.
With the help of the usher, I steadied myself on the ungodly high heels I was wearing. Once secure, Dylan stepped out beside me and slipped an arm around my waist, nodding at the usher to back off.
And that’s when it started. The screams, the flashes of camera going off, and the pushing by fans to get to the front of the crowd to gain his attention. Looking up, I felt butterflies in my belly as our gazes locked and held for the span of several seconds before we were urged along down the red-carpet runway, pausing for the paparazzi to take what seemed like an endless amount of photos before being guided into the venue.
“This seems so surreal,” I whispered to him.
“But yet this is life. You encouraged me.” He teased then grew more serious. “Thank you for that. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
Heat colored my cheeks and I looked down, pretending that I was watching my step as we reached the stairs. Each step was made with caution for fear I’d trip and break a damned ankle on the way down the flight of stairs. Boy would that ever make a good headline.
We found our seats which were around a large table with the other stars of his show. He wasn’t the only one up for an award—the star was up for best actor in a drama and the director was also up for an award. The show was labeled as one of the best new shows of the year and had the ratings to match.
Who’d have thought it…
As the night wore on and it came closer to the time for his category to be awarded, I could see the anxiety was beginning to creep up in him. He smiled and clapped with each award that was given, but I could see the stress in his eyes when I captured his gaze. I saw the lines in his forehead growing deeper.
Reaching under the table, I took his hand giving it a gentle squeeze. His category was next on the agenda.
They played clips from each of the shows as they called each name, Dylan’s was last on the list. His hand tightened around mine—almost painful as the seconds went by.
“And the winner of best new supporting actor in a drama is…”
“Dylan O’Connell!”
Cheers and clapping erupted all around us as the people at our table all offered their congratulations. Looking over at Dylan, he seemed shellshocked, so I gave him a little nudge with my knee. Leaning into him, I whispered. “You won, get up there!”
My urging seemed to spur him into motion. Pushing his chair back, he smiled at the camera and gave a friendly wave as he made his way to the stage. Once on-stage the actor in Dylan seemed to take over and he began his speech which he hadn’t prepared in advance since he didn’t figure he’d win despite my insistence that he needed to get one prepared.
Despite not being prepared in advance, he spoke eloquently. Pride welled up within me for him. I was so caught up in sharing his happiness and excitement I completely missed the fact that he’d said my name. Not only did he say my name, but he was requesting I join him up on stage.
What the fuck?
I looked around me confused. Surely I had a dumbass deer in the headlights look on my face. It wasn’t until, I was nudged by his co-star that I was jarred out of my momentary trance and slowly stood. I tried to keep my nerves in check as I made my way up to the stage. I was going to fucking kill him when we got home, he knew how much I hated being the center of attention.
