my lips lightly so I don’t get lip gloss on me.
“I’m buying you a black garbage bag and a white belt,” I tell her, and she shakes her head. Her hair is parted down the middle and tucked behind both ears. “Where is your bag?” I ask her, and she rolls her eyes.
“Right there”—she points at the small bag by the door—“and I packed enough clothes until Friday.”
“Good,” I say, holding the door open for her. “You’re learning.”
She walks to the stairs and picks up the dress to walk down the steps. I walk next to her, and we make it downstairs. “We should get a picture of you,” she says, and I put the bag in the back of the car. “Turn my way,” she says, and I look over my shoulder and give her the smirk.
“Now come and take one with me,” I tell her, and she walks over to me. I snap a selfie of us, her head next to mine and both of us smiling. “That’s a good one,” I say to her as she gets in the car.
The line-up to get to the Grammys is insane. “We are car number twenty,” the driver says from the front, and we move at a snail’s pace. We finally get to the front, or near the front when I hear a roar take over the crowd. I look out and see that Kellie has arrived. Kellie is the artist up for the most awards tonight. We worked together on one film when she first started in movies. She actually just had her first baby, and it’s the first time she’s performing in years. So all eyes are on her tonight.
“Kellie just arrived.” Erin looks up when the car stops. I get out and hold out my hand to her. “Come, I want you to meet Kellie.” I tell her and we walk to Kellie, who is holding hands with a huge guy watching everyone. “I didn’t think she could look more beautiful,” I say to the side of her and watch the man next to her stand up full alert.
“Carter,” Kellie says and walks to me, kissing my cheeks. “Look at you, all dressed up,” she jokes, then looks behind me. “Where is your harem?” she jokes, and I burst out laughing.
“Erin.” I turn to look for her and finally see her next to me. Her auburnhair is shining in the sun. “This is Kellie,” I say, and Erin walks over to her smiling and holding out her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Erin says to her, and Kellie smiles, moving to the side.
“This is my husband, Brian.” She reaches for his hand. “Brian, this is Carter, and his girlfriend Erin.”
“Oh, no,” Erin says. “I’m not his girlfriend.” She shakes her head, and I turn and glare at her. “I’m PR for his brand.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kellie says, and then looks at her husband, trying to hide a smile.
“No one even knows what that means,” I say to her and try to grab her hand, but she puts her clutch in it.
“It means I’m in charge of your image. We already went through this,” she tells me quietly. “Now if you can please stop letting people think we are together.”
“I’m not in charge of what people think,” I say with a sly smile. I’m about to let the cat out of the bag because I’m done with the hiding and not being able to hold her hand when I want to. “Let’s go take a picture so you can put it on my Instagram.” I tell her this so she can stop the glaring, then I turn to Kellie. “See you in there, and good luck tonight.” The sound of the bell lets us know that the show will be starting any minute.
“You can’t do that,” Erin says. “This is my job; this is your job,” she tells me. “Please. It’s not the time to tell everyone.”
“We have to get inside, or they will close the doors.” Putting my hand on her lower back, I see men look twice when she walks by them, and I want to put a tent around her. We walk down the red carpet. I stop and pose for pictures alone as Erin stands off to the side. I want to pull her on the carpet with me and pose with her. I want them to take pictures of us together.
I’m not able to give any interviews because it’s so close to