Page 66 of Heavy Shot

“August,” Jill interrupted, reaching across the longer bench seat to the shorter side where August sat next to Rick. “To the love of my life, August, thank you for always being there and dressing me for wherever ‘there’ may be.”

“Aw,” Kline groaned. “That’s not how it used to go.”

“He never dressed me back then.”

August laughed and shook his head, then popped a cork from a champagne bottle stocked in the limo bar. “Let’s drink to the Best Presenter. May his category be invented so he can win and use the trophy as a paperweight for his bloated ego.”

Even Kline laughed at that one and tossed back his drink with glee. Rhiannon was going a little slower with her own glass, wondering how that alcohol was going to hit Kline’s system after months of avoiding the stuff.

It was a long ride to the Vanity Fair party, and when they finally arrived, there was another barrage of photographers waiting, though security was much tighter. It was almost like another red carpet when Kline stepped out of the limo just behind Rhiannon, with Jill immediately after him. The paparazzi were calling his name as though he’d won something, and then Jill’s as well, trying to get their attention for even the briefest moment. When Kline took a few steps forward and Jill followed, he slipped an arm around her and the two posed and smiled for the cameras.

Rhiannon rolled her eyes and, wary of more photo ops of her vanishing dress, hurried on inside the party, Rick at her heels. August hung back until Kline released his date, then he and Jill continued up to the door together.The din was nearly unbearable until they were used to it, but everyone inside was chattering happily and noisily, fawning, preening and gushing over one another.

Kline barely made it in the door before well wishes and congratulations were being flung at him from all directions. Rhiannon had grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing tray and made her way through the crowd towards a quieter corner of the room. She didn't realize that Rick was still behind her until she turned around and nearly bumped into him, "Oh! I'm sorry," she said, catching her glass before it could spill on him. "I didn't know you were—there."

"I followed you," he said, smiling. "You cut a nice path through the chaos. It seemed like a good idea."

"Not good for business, though, is it?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, aren't some of the biggest deals made at parties like this? You're not going to see much action on the fringe," she said, taking a sip of her drink.

Rick shrugged. "I've got plenty of deals in the works. Besides, I'm a producer. They come to me," he said, in a tone that was less cocky than self-assured.

Rhiannon decided that she liked him. He was straightforward and real, like she was. Or like she used to be. She’d become so passive-aggressive in the past few weeks it was getting on her own nerves. He was handsome, too, and had a nice smile. "I'm sure they do," she said, picking up the thread of conversation. "You seem like a man who can make things happen."

He smiled. "I am. I'm good at everything, except awards shows."

She laughed. "That makes two of us."

"Yeah, you don't seem too comfortable with all of this."

"Is it that obvious? I thought I was hiding it well."

"I don't think Kline's noticed, at any rate."

"No surprise there," she replied, taking another long drink of champagne. "He's got plenty to distract him."

"You mean Jill Parker?" Rick asked, taking her empty glass and trading it for two fresh flutes from another tray as a waiter floated past.

She looked up at him and accepted the offered glass. "I mean all of this--this insanity. He's in his element--" she trailed off and sighed, "You've read the articles, right? I mean, there aren't really any secrets here."

"True. I have read the articles," he said, with a nod. "I have to admit, most of it seems like PR spin."

Rhiannon frowned. "I don't think all of it is, but regardless, I've been given a role to play, and I don't want to perform. That's not who I am."

"Not enjoying your celebrity?"

She shook her head. "I just don't think I'm cut out to be a movie star's girlfriend. It requires too much acting, and there's a reason that I'm a writer."

He laughed. "Well, I think you're getting some well-deserved recognition for your writing abilities. Thad raves about you. He's even credited you with saving the show."

"Thad says that because he kinda likes me."

"I can see why," Rick said, taking another sip of champagne.

"Is that your champagne talking?" Rhiannon asked with a playfully arched eyebrow.

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