getting to the point that things might need to change.”
I totally agreed with her, but this wasn’t a conversation that I needed to be a part of. So I sat quietly while Reina changed the subject and started prepping him for what would happen when we arrived and how he would need to pose for pictures despite not wanting to. Her return to normalcy was like a cue to the others—Morgan was scrolling on her phone, talking about the different outlets that wanted to speak to him at the party, while Annie ran product through his hair, making sure the waves set just so.
She had the best job.
He shot me a sheepish grin, as if to say he was sorry about all of this, and I shrugged. He didn’t have anything to be sorry for. The crazy fan wasn’t his fault. Then it occurred to me that he was talking about our present circumstances, where I sat quietly while everyone else talked to and with him. Admittedly, when we’d been sitting together in the theater, it felt as if we were almost like a regular couple. I don’t know why I assumed it would continue to be just me and him. But now with three other people quite literally between us, he felt a world away.
Noah seemed so important. He had these people who were there just to take care of him and help him in his career. I sat in that car, feeling small and not liking it. Maybe when we got to this party, I’d see if I could find someone in the ride-share app to pick me up. Although I guessed we were heading into a situation similar to the one we’d just left and it might take some time.
The car slowed to a crawl, and I saw another wall of photographers, camera crews, and fans cheering and screaming. I hoped these guards would protect him better than the last.
“Morgan, would you mind getting out here and taking Juliet inside so that Noah can get his pictures?” Reina asked, and Morgan nodded.
“Juliet, is that okay?” Noah asked me, and I wondered whether he saw any discomfort on my face.
I smiled, because the idea of avoiding that red carpet actually sounded nice. “Yes. I’ll just meet you inside.”
“Can I get your number?” Morgan asked. “In case we get separated.”
I told her my phone number and then she opened the car door. I went with her through a couple of security checkpoints, and it seemed as if none of the guards were too pleased about me being listed as Noah Douglas’s guest. They hadn’t been given a name, and they kept checking my driver’s license. Which I didn’t understand, because the word guest wasn’t going to magically morph into my name if they looked at my ID often enough.
But we got inside and it was like a whole other glitzy, glamorous world. It was dark and it took my eyes a second to adjust. There was also music playing, and several people were on the dance floor already. Thankfully it wasn’t too loud and allowed people to still have conversations. There were waiters wearing white tuxedo jackets circulating with champagne flutes, and a large bar to provide whatever other kinds of drinks people wanted. To one side there were dining tables set up with crisp linen cloths, and on the other there were soft-looking padded benches and sofas. It was all sleek and modern with different-colored lights flashing from the walls.
Everywhere I looked there was one famous person after another. It was like I’d walked into my favorite movie. Or all my favorite movies put together. Brad Pitt smiled at me as he walked by, and although he was old enough to be my dad, it did make me feel a little light-headed.
Morgan stuck to my side, asking if I wanted something to eat or drink.
But surprisingly enough, my almost constant dull roar of an appetite had gone totally silent. My stomach was still upset over what had happened to Noah with that fan. “No, I’m good. But thank you!” I wondered whether she was going to babysit me until Noah arrived. Which made me feel a little ridiculous, as she seemed to be about my age, if not younger.
“Okay, I’m going to grab some food. Do you want to wait here for me?” she asked.
I kept surveying the crowd and saw Zoe Covington. “I see someone I know. I’ll be over there. Thanks!”