Brendan frowned. ‘Sorry, Ivy, but I’ve got to babysit Bethany tonight. My parents are going star-gazing somewhere in the middle of nowhere.’
Ivy sighed. ‘Well, at least you can help me pick out what to wear.’
‘Is that Richard Redford over there?’ Mrs Abbott gasped, holding a napkin full of olives pits in one hand and her silver clutch bag in the other.
‘No, Mom,’ Olivia said, patting her mom on the arm. ‘This isn’t that big a party.’
‘It feels like it to me!’ Mrs Abbott said. She was wearing her purple silk suit for the occasion and, with her funky lace pantyhose, she suited the glamorous party crowd.
‘Isn’t that Jackson?’ said Mr Abbott, looking across the crowded room at someone trying to make their way over.
Olivia clapped her hands. ‘Yes!’ He was wearing a new black jacket over jeans and grinned as she caught his eye.
He waved her over.
‘Can I?’ Olivia asked her parents.
‘Go, my daughter, and spread your wings,’ said Mr Abbott in his typical philosophical way.
Olivia kissed him on the cheek and hurried over to her boyfriend.
‘Have you met Olivia Abbott?’ Jackson said to a lady wearing a blue sequined blouse. ‘The most gorgeous girl here tonight?’
Olivia blushed. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she said, shaking the woman’s hand firmly.
‘Lovely earrings,’ the woman said.
Olivia had chosen a green Greek tunic-style dress with large silver earrings and silver sandals. ‘Thank you,’ she replied. There was a mix of glamour and casual, with most of the women dressing up, with jewels and full-length dresses, and most of the men – Hollywood producers and casting agents – in tailored jackets and expensive-looking jeans.
The post-premiere party was being held in the local heritage wing of the Franklin Grove Art Museum. Mr Vega had been working for the past four months on the biggest exhibit the small museum had ever built. There were paintings and sculptures by artists from the area spanning over a hundred years. There was everything from a weathered stone gnome to an abstract painting with black splodges called ‘Cemetery’.
Mr Vega had also included a section with photographs, stories and models of how the town had developed. One image showed the old railroad station, while the one next to it showed how that had become the mall.
Jackson and Olivia were standing next to a sculpture of melted coloured glass that looked like a twisted Eiffel Tower in red, white and blue. They were each nibbling goat’s cheese tartlets. There was a violin quartet playing in the corner and waitress in a tuxedo circulating with a tray.
After the woman drifted away, Jackson pulled Olivia behind the Eiffel Tower, where no one else could see them.
‘I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry about last night,’ Jackson said, drawing her close.
‘I know,’ Olivia replied. ‘But it all worked out in the end.’
‘We’re going to sit down with Amy and decide on the perfect time to go public.’ Jackson looked like he would ninja-chop anyone who tried to convince him otherwise.
She nodded. ‘OK. If it’s what you want.’
She leaned forwards and Jackson did, too. Just as they were about to kiss –
‘There you are!’ squealed a high-pitched voice. Jackson and Olivia broke apart to see Jessica Phelps poking her head around the glass tower. Jessica sashayed over and kissed Jackson on the cheek, completely ignoring Olivia. ‘I’ve been wondering where my fabulous co-star was hiding!’
Olivia felt her face freezing into an Ivy-special death stare. Jessica was being so rude!
‘Hi Jessica,’ she cut in, not letting the Hollywood starlet squeeze her out of the conversation.
Jessica blinked at her, clearly annoyed that Olivia had dared to interrupt her. ‘And you are?’
Olivia smiled through gritted teeth, wondering if she could get away with chucking her goat’s cheese tartlet at Jessica. But Jackson stepped in.
‘You remember Olivia,’ Jackson said pointedly. ‘She was a supporting actress in The Groves and is, of course, my leading lady.’