Page 86 of All That Glitters
She chuckled along with him briefly before a wave of shame washed over her face and she looked away.
“I haven’t spoken to my parents in over four years,” she confessed, the admission barely a whisper. “And I used to tell myself it was because I was ashamed of them. But that wasn’t it. I was ashamed of what I’d become. I didn’t want them to see me in those cheap films, playing another hot girl in a skimpy outfit who gets killed in the first ten minutes. I wanted them to remember the little girl who dreamed big, not the woman who sold her dreams cheap.” She took a shaky breath. “I sent them tickets to the premiere. I hope they come. I want them to see this. The gold.”
“I hope they do, too,” he said. “Maybe your dad can figure out what’s wrong with my truck.”
Carrie laughed, and it was good to hear. “You’re good for me, Tony,” she said. “You keep me grounded. We can keep each other grounded. Remind each other what’s glitter, and what’s gold.”
She paused, and a small, determined smile touched her lips. “And speaking of gold…” she said, her tone shifting, becoming a call to action. “That girl. The one who makes you look like your puppy just got run over and won the lottery at the same time. She’s not glitter, Tony. Debbie’s gold.”
She met his gaze, her eyes full of a fierce, protective loyalty he knew she would have for him forever.
“So here’s what we’re going to do,” she said. “You are going to do whatever it takes to get her to that premiere. And I am going to help you fix everything. We are not giving up. We’re getting your gold back.”
Chapter thirty-three
Premieres and Parties
The premiere for The Frat was a full-blown Hollywood spectacle. The street in front of the historic Chinese Theater was shut down, transformed into a pulsating artery of flashing lights and screaming fans packed behind velvet ropes. A river of red carpet flowed toward the grand entrance, flanked on either side by a gauntlet of reporters and photographers shouting questions and snapping pictures in a continuous, blinding pop of flashbulbs.
A sleek black limousine, longer than Tony’s entire apartment, purred to the curb. A valet in a sharp red jacket opened the door, and Tony stepped out, looking dazed and slightly terrified in a rented tuxedo. A moment later, Carrie emerged, and the roar from the crowd intensified.
She was pure glitter. A vision in a shimmering silver gown that caught the light from a thousand angles. Her hair was a cascade of perfect blonde waves, her makeup flawless. She was every inch the movie star, the queen of the red carpet. She gave Tony a quick, reassuring squeeze of his hand, a silent ‘we’re in thistogether,’ before plastering on her practiced, dazzling smile and stepping into the whirlwind.
They moved down the carpet as a team, a slow, surreal procession through a wall of noise and light.
“Carrie! Over here!”
“Tony, who are you wearing?” a reporter shouted. Tony looked down at his rented tux. “Uh... a guy named Steve sold it to me?”
Carrie laughed, leaning in to whisper, “Just smile and wave. They don’t actually care.”
She posed, turning this way and that, a master of her craft. Tony just stood beside her, blinking in the flashbulbs, feeling like an imposter who had wandered into someone else’s dream. As Carrie turned from one bank of photographers to another, her gaze swept over the roaring crowd beyond the ropes. And then, she froze.
Her movie-star smile dissolved, replaced by something raw, real, and vulnerable. Her eyes locked on a spot deep within the throng of yelling fans. Tony followed her gaze and saw them. A middle-aged couple, looking completely overwhelmed and out of place. The woman was clutching her purse like a life raft, and the man beside her wore a slightly-too-tight sport coat that looked like it had been saved for special occasions for the past twenty years.
“Mom?” Carrie whispered, the word swallowed by the din. “Dad?”
Before Tony or the publicist at her elbow could react, Carrie did the unthinkable. She broke protocol. She abandoned the performance.
“Carrie, the E! News camera is waiting—” the publicist began.
But Carrie wasn’t listening. She hiked up her expensive gown, ducked under the velvet rope, and pushed her way into the screaming crowd. A security guard moved to intercept her, butTony instinctively put out an arm. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s her family.”
The crowd parted around her as she reached the couple. Her father’s face was a mixture of awe and disbelief. Her mother’s was already wet with tears.
“Hey, Daddy,” Carrie said, her voice thick with emotion.
“Care-Bear,” he said, his voice rough. He smelled of Old Spice and hard work, just like she remembered. He smelled like home.
She threw her arms around him, burying her face in the shoulder of his inexpensive sport coat, and she didn’t care that her thousand-dollar makeup was getting ruined. She hugged her mom tightly, the two of them clinging to each other, a silent, tearful apology for four years of lost time passing between them.
“We’re so proud of you,” her mom sniffled, cupping her flawless cheek.
“No,” Carrie said, pulling back and looking at them, her eyes shining with unshed tears of her own. “I’m proud of you.” She squeezed their hands. “Please, you have to come to the after-party. I want you to meet my friends.”
She looked back toward the red carpet, a world away, and her eyes found Tony’s. She gave him a small, grateful nod. She was home.
Back on the carpet, Tony watched the beautiful, heartfelt reunion, a lump forming in his throat. He felt a profound sense of pride for his friend, for the incredible woman she had become. He was so lost in the moment, he almost didn’t hear it.
