Page 104 of Second Act
Chapter 24
As they crossed the expanse of burgundy carpet in the now-empty room, Jessica saw a group of people huddled around Gavin Miller near the main door. The writer glanced up before lifting a hand in greeting. “Mr. Baker is here,” he said in a carrying voice.
All heads turned toward Jessica and Hugh before one tall, broad-shouldered woman dressed in a deep red pantsuit broke away from the huddle. “How wonderful to see you again, Hugh,” she said, striding toward them. “I was afraid you might have forgotten that you are giving the opening speech.”
“Never, Maggie,” Hugh said smoothly as the woman fell into step beside him. “Not for an important event like the INK awards. May I introduce you to Jessica Quillen, an old friend of mine? Jessica, meet Maggie Stillwell, the chairperson of this splendid occasion.”
Jessica peered around Hugh’s shoulder to smile at Maggie, who gave her a curious look but made no comment other than a polite hello. As soon as they reached the crowd waiting for them, Maggie took charge, directing the other committee members to disperse to the ballroom while she escorted the celebrities herself.
Gavin Miller gave Jessica an odd, appraising smile before he introduced her to his red-haired wife, Allie. Jessica loved the other woman’s slight twang of an accent, but they had no time to exchange more than a quick pleasantry before Maggie was marshaling them for their entrance.
Hugh kept Jessica’s hand tucked firmly against his side as they followed the tall woman down the corridor, so she could feel the heat of his body radiating through his tux jacket against her bare arm. Just that little contact sent a thrill of excitement sizzling over her skin.
Gavin shot Hugh an amused, sidelong glance when they reached the ballroom’s double doors. “Allie and I will go before you, so we don’t dilute the crowd’s first glimpse of Julian Best.” And then he swept his wife along with him through the opening.
Hugh stopped in the doorway. “Let’s give them a second to realize we’re here,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the vast room filled with round tables.
More and more guests swiveled on their chairs to stare in their direction, and the volume of the conversation dropped as people gawked and whispered. Jessica hadn’t been prepared for quite so many pairs of eyes trained on her scrubs all at the same time, but she lifted her chin and gave them her best sparkling smile.
“And now we’ll proceed,” Hugh said, moving her forward with him. “Front table, dead center.”
She slid a glance up at him to find that he was also smiling for the crowd and occasionally saying hello to someone at a table they passed. Although a few people eyed her unusual outfit askance, virtually all the attention was focused on the man at her side, a surprise benefit to Hugh being so famous—and gorgeous, of course. She could just lurk in his shadow.
The walk seemed drawn out, but they finally arrived at the table of honor, where Gavin, Allie, and Maggie were already seated, along with a few strangers and some prominent authors whom Jessica recognized from their book-jacket photos. There was a rustle of greetings as she and Hugh sat down in the last two chairs, making her wonder whom she had displaced. She also felt guilty about deserting Quentin, but he’d told her not to worry about him if things went well with Hugh.
Maggie allowed the greetings to finish before she stood and indicated that Hugh should come with her, leading him up a set of steps to the side of the stage. She ducked back into the wings while Hugh strode across the stage to the podium. Jessica drank in the lithe grace of his long legs, the tousle of his silky hair, the blaze of his turquoise eyes, and the sheer charisma that made the audience go quiet without a word or gesture from him.
He braced his hands on the podium and smiled out at the room. “Welcome to the eleventh annual INK awards,” he said. “I’m Hugh Baker, your grateful servant, an actor who would have nothing to say without the words you all give me.”
Of course he spoke from memory, as though he was just sharing his thoughts with the rapt audience. His speech was short but graceful, projecting a genuine gratitude toward the writers who filled the room. As he descended the steps, Jessica whispered to Gavin, “That was a terrific speech. Did Hugh write it?”
Gavin gave her a roguish look. “I might have assisted.”
“I had a feeling,” Jessica said. “Did you write his speech for your award as well?”
The author chuckled. “I offered, but he refused to allow me to sing my own praises. He knew I wouldn’t hold back.”
Hugh returned to the table, seating himself beside Jessica. “Wonderful speech!” she said. “Every writer in this room thinks you’re brilliant.”
“Because Gavin made sure I sucked up to them mercilessly,” Hugh said, but amusement glinted in his eyes.
“Well, yes,” Jessica said. “However, writers are pretty important to actors, after all.”
“I like this woman,” Gavin said.
“I told you that you would,” Hugh said, sending a little wavelet of gratification rippling through Jessica. He’d discussed her with his closest friend in a positive way.
Then he swamped her with delight when he slid his hand onto her thigh beneath the tablecloth and gave it a gentle squeeze, his fingers strong and warm against the thin cotton of her scrubs. Her eyelids threatened to flutter closed while she savored the fact that he had returned to his old habit of touching her in public without seeming to do so. It was a good sign.
Allie leaned forward to catch Jessica’s attention. “I love your outfit. It’s got major pizzazz. You’ve inspired me to work harder on my PT scrubs.”
“Yes, well, the diamonds might be a little over-the-top,” Jessica said, her tone wry. She had been so focused on Hugh that she’d forgotten what she was wearing.
“Don’t change a thing,” Gavin said. “If you’re going to prove a point—especially to someone as thick skulled as Hugh—prove it emphatically.”
Jessica gave a little choke of laughter as Hugh tossed a dark look at his friend. “Of course, your thought process has always been a model of clarity,” he said.
Allie leaned in again to say in a stage whisper, “I love it when these two get going on each other. It keeps their egos in check.”
