Page 419 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“I don’t know. You have someone in mind?”
“Summer, actually,” she says as Nate and Joni file past us to sit at the back of the plane.
“She broke up with the other guy?” I ask. “The attorney guy?”
Audrey nods. “And she’s totally disheartened and positive I married the last decent man on the planet.” She drops her head on my shoulder, stifling a yawn. “I swear, you and your brothers are like unicorns. How are you all so good?”
“Blake’s a nice guy. I’ll talk to him. See what I can find out.”
“That would be amazing.” Audrey yawns again. “I’m sure Summer would appreciate it.”
“You going to make it, sleepyhead?”
She gives me a pointed look. “Somebodykept me up late last night.”
Depending on the day, she could be talking about Milo, who is only nine months old and still wakes us up at least once a night. But I’ll take full credit for Audrey’s lack of sleep last night.
I smirk. “True. And I have zero regrets.”
She bumps her arm into mine. “I’ll take a nap as soon as we’re in the air. Find me a blanket?”
Idofind a blanket—one big enough for us both—and I tuck it around us, our chairs almost fully reclined.
Audrey sighs as she relaxes into the seat. “I miss Milo.”
I lean over and kiss her forehead. “Me too. But your sisters will take good care of him while we’re gone.”
She turns and nestles into my side, making me think flying private is worth it just for the chance to travel like this, with Audrey so close. “Hey, Flint?” she says, her voice sleepy.
“Hmm?”
“You’re going to win an Oscar tonight.”
AUDREY
I’m biased.
IknowI’m biased.
But I’ve watched all the other movies and studied all the contenders for Best Actor, and Flint’s performance is justso good.I really think he’s going to win.
His entire family has flown to California to be with us for the awards. We won’t have time to see them beforehand, and we’re the only two who will walk the red carpet, but we’ll all be together at the hotel afterwards.
Even if he doesn’t win, I’m glad his entire family is here. Flint’s had such a big year, and he’s worked so hard. He deserves to be celebrated.
The next few hours go by in a blur. We land in LA, hurry to the hotel where we meet our fashion people who get us dressed and coifed and looking red-carpet fabulous, then we race over to the Dolby Theatre for the Academy Awards. We hit the red carpet an hour later than Flint’s publicist would have preferred, but we’re here. We made it.
And I’mso proudto be next to Flint.
I still don’t love the paparazzi. I don’t love the attention and the entitlement some fans feel to the innerworkings of Flint’s private life. But ithasgotten easier. The noise has gotten quieter. And we’ve gotten really good at holing up at the house whenever we need to recharge.
We see Lea Cortez when we’re entering the theatre, and Claire McKinsey, who comes over to give me a big hug. Through it all, Flint is kind and quick to smile, but he’s quieter than usual, and he just gets quieter and quieter the closer we get to his category.
He’s told me a hundred times that it’s an honor to be nominated, and when he says it about thelastnomination, I believe him. But this time, I think he really wants it. Maybe because he knows his work on this movie—Mark Sheridan’s movie—is the best he’s ever done.
Applause fills the room as, fittingly, Matt Damon takes the stage to present the award for Best Actor. I thread my fingers through Flint’s. “You have so much to be proud of,” I whisper. “Win or lose.”
He wins.
