talked to him, confided in him. It was what made him so good at his job. Business had skyrocketed in the last nine months. He’d hired more investigators to handle the load, freeing him up to work on his favorite part of the job. The locates. He loved bringing people together, which led her back to Brad Krazinsky. Would the man be so thankful to be reunited with his birth mother that he’d tell Troy the results of the most famous award show in history?
“I don’t believe you. You can’t know. Brad could lose his job if he told you.”
Troy lifted his hands in exasperation, but he still had a devastating smile on his face. “I didn’t say anything.”
He wouldn’t be grinning like that if she’d lost, would he?
Oh, man, she didn’t need this. She didn’t have a speech prepared or anything. She groaned mentally. Stop it! You did not win. You won’t need a speech.
All thought of winning or losing jumped out of her brain when Fido slowed the car and stopped at the entrance of the Kodak Theater.
“Give me a second,” Troy said as he exited the car. The laughter disappeared from his eyes and the serious face she was so familiar with took over. He wanted a look at the buildings across from the theater. Julie could’ve told him until she was blue in the face that a repeat of the Sporties wouldn’t happen, but he didn’t care. When it came to protecting her, he took his job as husband, partner and protector very seriously.
Fido turned and narrowed his deep blue eyes. “The last time we did this, I told you to break a leg, so I can’t say that again, and I know good luck is bad luck, so I’m just going to say, have a great evening.”
Julie smiled as Troy held out a hand for her. “Thanks, Fido. We’ll see you after the show. Don’t go putting down any money on me tonight.”
He laughed. “Too late for that. I’ve got you with good odds.”
That’s how the first cameras caught her, laughing at Fido’s words as she exited the limo in her slinky black satin gown. Troy put a protective arm around her waist and escorted her up the red carpet. She refused to look over her shoulder or consider that someone might be sighting her through a rifle scope. She wouldn’t live her life in fear or in the past.
She was a hot commodity this year and everyone wanted an interview. Who designed her dress, her shoes, her bag, her jewelry? How was married life? How did it feel to be a double nominee? Troy stayed with her through all of it, his big hand, warm and steady at the small of back, tracing circles on the bare skin the backless gown revealed, and shredding her concentration when it came to answering questions. He handled the press like a pro, like the chaos didn’t bother him in the least. He was solid as a rock and that only made her love him more.
Four hours later, after the craziness of the red carpet where her husband put up with the pictures and interviews and questions, after Julie had won her first Oscar for Best Actress in a Supporting Role for playing Josephine in a small indie film called Never Again, they sat together in the first row of the theatre as the names for Best Actress in a Leading Role were named.
Julie already had her statue and nothing could dampen her night. The clip of her movie was the last to play, and the crowd watched as her character, Elizabeth, gave the monologue at the movie’s turning point. The audience remained silent as tears slid down Elizabeth’s cheeks, as she stood up for herself and made the hard decision to leave the man she said she’d be with forever. The clip ended and the audience applauded.
Julie smiled at the camera. There were too many reasons why she wouldn’t win. First, she’d already won tonight, and second, she still didn’t have a speech prepared. Someone might have thought that after adlibbing an Oscar acceptance speech, she would’ve jotted something down in the ladies room in case she won this second award too, but no one who’d ever been nominated twice in one night ever won unless it was the director and best picture nominees. She’d tried to make up for forgetting to thank her new husband while in the press rooms, but the damage was done. She’d