Red Carpet Romance by Jean C. Joachim

Evans speaking
to Junior.
    The limousine was waiting outside.
Quinn opened the door, and Susanna got in. “Do you want a drink?” He asked her.
    “Nope. Thanks.”
    “Expect a lot of flashing bulbs,
plenty of press.”
    “Been there, remember? My dad had a
short press conference after almost every game.”
    “And you were there?”
    “In the beginning, it was exciting.
In my teens, I was too busy to bother. I’ve been to enough to know the drill.”
    “Good. Then I don’t have to worry
about you freaking out.” He smiled warmly at her.
    “I’ll slip through. They won’t
notice me, you’re the star.”
    “Are you kidding? In that dress?” He
lifted his eyebrows.
    “With all those movie stars there?”
She countered, cocking an eyebrow at him.
    “None of them can compete with you.”
He took her hand and kissed it. She’s
blushing. Do women still do that? Quinn laced his fingers with hers and
moved a bit closer to her. She leaned back against the seat and closed her
eyes. “Rest. It’ll be forty-five minutes before we get there.”
    “I’m excited to see the movie,” she
mumbled before falling silent.
    “Me, too.” I hope the picture is good. Nerves made sweat break out on his
forehead. The usual butterflies in his stomach and a slight tightness in his
chest appeared, as always, before a new movie of his was released. The same old
questions ran through his mind. Will
people go see it? Will critics like it? Will it flop? Then he’d go through
the same routine to calm himself down. It’s
too late now. It’s done. If my career is over, Gavin will take me back and
finish my carpenter training.
    He, too, lay back against the seat
and closed his eyes, his fingers tightening slightly around hers. I have Susanna. Knowing she was at his
side steadied him. Her warmth soothed him. She
won’t let me down. Sleep overtook him quickly.

 
    * * * *

 
    Susanna thought she was prepared,
but when she awoke to the sound of screaming fans muffled by the closed windows
and the stinging of her eyes by the flashes of what appeared to be a hundred
bulbs, she was stunned.
    “We’re here,” Quinn said, lightly
touching her shoulder.
    She rubbed her eyes, stifled a yawn,
and looked around.
    “Don’t be scared. It’ll be fun.
Honest. Ready?” He kissed her palm.
    She smiled at him as the chauffeur
came around and opened the door. Quinn got out first, donning a big grin, and
reached in to help her. She grabbed his hand, swung her legs out, and stood up.
Behind the barricades, a few people were chanting “Joe, Joe, Joe Martin” and
waving. Quinn calmly looked up and waved with one hand while the fingers of the
other were still laced with hers.
    After smoothing down the bottom of
her dress, she squeezed his hand, and he turned to look at her. He noticed her
slight nod and moved forward, ambling up the red carpet.
    It wasn’t long before he was stopped
by a man with a microphone. Susanna tuned out the words, her gaze scanning the
huge crowd. Getting past Quinn’s celebrity in New York had been easy. New York
can be a very anonymous city. She knew him as a man, an employer, a friend, an
occasional father, and would-be lover. Now his celebrity crashed down on her,
deafening her, in her face, and she was in awe of how many people idolized him.
    The heat of curious stares brought
color to her cheeks. Never been in the
spotlight before. She had always stood on the sidelines while her father
fielded questions from the press or signed autographs. No one was looking at
her, talking to her. She was an invisible observer. But not now. Questioning
glances came her way. They want to know
who I am. I’m nobody, people. Nobody. But she sensed that wouldn’t satisfy
the throng or the interviewer who was checking her out while speaking with
Quinn.
    “New girlfriend?” He asked Quinn,
shoving the mic closer to the actor’s mouth.
    “A friend. Susanna?” Quinn pulled
her closer and slipped an arm around her shoulders.
    With