Page 113 of The Publicity Stunt
He laughs.
“Okay, we need to walk the red carpet now. Tony’s inside. So are Markus and the rest of the crew.”
Parker’s eyes dart around the place, taking in the insistent cries and the flashing cameras of the press as various celebrities make their way down the red carpet.
“Hey, you good?” I ask as he toys with the publicist badge snaked around my neck.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m with you. Of course, I’m good. Might be the post-sex high wearing off.”
“Wanna sneak off to the bathroom and do it on the sink?”
“Don’t tempt me,” he says, hooking his arm around mine, then leans down to plant a kiss over the strap of my dress. “April?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the prettiest girl I know.”
My lips resolve in a soft line and I smile. “Yeah?”
He slides his hand down and wraps his fingers around mine. My smile creeps out, full power, and he kisses the corner of my mouth. “By a long shot. Wherever that smile goes, I follow.”
We make our way to the center of the red carpet, stopping in front of the countless camera flashes for our picture to be taken. Normally, publicists pose on the red carpet. They arrive, wait in the Publicists' Pen, then possibly be on the red carpet but with the celebrity they're escorting, who poses for paparazzi. But ever since Tony’s earlier debacle, he’s been trying extra-hard to suck up to me. Hence the extra pass for the red carpet.
“I don’t know how this works,” Parker admits in a hushed tone. “I’ve never actually posed on the carpet.”
“Just smile and wave.”
Another flash. Then another.
“I’m gonna go blind tonight.” He steps behind me and wrap his arms around my waist, palms resting on the flat of my stomach. “Is this fine?”
“Yeah, if we’re posing for the prom.”
“Here.” I turn around to face him, angling us sideways. “Just look at me and act like I cracked the funniest joke ever.”
He winces.
“Okay, not the response I was going for. But at least we’re going to have that face to look forward to in one of theEllearticles tomorrow morning.”
“Hilarious.” He rolls his eyes.
Another series of bright flashes one after the other take place. “God, I hate the paparazzi.”
“Look at you,” I coo. “A true insufferable LA person.”
He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Manhattan is superior for a reason.”
“LA isn’t that bad.”
“It’s like living in a simulation.”
He wraps my arm around my waist and pulls me close. Lifting his chin, he sticks out his leg in some sort of a pose and I smile. Not at the cameras, but at him.
I smile because I love how right it feels to be by his side. I reach down and take his fingers in mine. He looks down at me and twirls me around, settling my hip next to his. “I think I have a crush on you,” he tells me.
“You just made me feel like the main character from a ’90s romcom, Parker.” I stand on my toes to kiss his cheek. “I definitely have a crush on you too.”
A smile brighter than all the flashing cameras combined blooms across his lips. “Main characters are overrated, Chere. You’re the side character who stole the whole show.”
