Speed Demons by Gun Brooke Page B

The only sign of her insecurity was the way she clasped Evie’s hand and wouldn’t let go. She didn’t mind. Instead she fired off her own grin, and it didn’t take the paparazzi long to recognize her.
    “Blythe! Over here. Blythe! Evie! Look over here.” The demanding voices of the photographers rained over them as they slowly made their way along the red carpet to the hotel entrance.
    “Evie.” A slight, barely noticeable tone of panic laced Blythe’s voice.
    “Just keep smiling. You’re doing fine.” She knew how to speak without moving her lips. “Nearly there.”
    Gloria Banks, a famous TV personality, stood ready with a microphone when they reached the door.
    “Blythe Pierce, our guest of honor, is here,” Gloria said cheerfully. “Welcome. You must be excited about tonight’s banquet in your honor, Blythe?”
    “This isn’t just about me—” Blythe said.
    “And you’ve brought a, hmm, friend, and not just any friend, but NASCAR’s own superwoman, Evangeline Marshall.”
    “Hello,” Evie said politely. She allowed the steel in her voice to show, and Gloria blinked and seemed to search for her next question.
    “Um. That’s a beautiful dress, Blythe,” Gloria managed to say. “Who are you wearing?”
    “Fernanda Cruz.”
    Evie could tell that Gloria hadn’t heard of this particular designer. A petty part of her found this fact rather funny. She could tell her smile was widening exponentially. This expression didn’t elude Gloria, who now mimicked the grin of a shark.
    “What about you, Evangeline? Who are you wearing?”
    “Armani.”
    “Ah. Stunning.” Gloria made a production of returning her attention to Blythe. “Blythe, you’re the recipient of tonight’s most prestigious award. What is it about your photos that captivates the viewer, do you think?”
    “I shoot what I see.” Blythe didn’t elaborate.
    “And what you see is heartbreaking, isn’t it? Our boys risking their lives.” Gloria pressed a hand against her chest in a way Evie assumed was meant to portray empathy.
    “And our girls. And the civilian people.”
    “Civilians?” Gloria frowned. “Yes. Of course.”
    “If you get a chance to look at the book, you’ll see that fifty percent of my subjects are the civilian Afghansand their daily life.” Blythe spoke quietly, but in a surprisingly authoritative manner that had Gloria leaning in to hear her.
    Evie was ready to applaud Blythe for standing her ground with such class.
    “Enjoy the evening. Both of you.” Gloria’s shark-like expression flashed at them as they resumed walking their gauntlet.
    “Don’t let go.” Blythe muttered the words as they passed a horde of photographers.
    “Nearly there.” She felt Blythe relax marginally as they entered the hotel lobby, leaving the press behind. “Whoa, Nellie.” She had to laugh at the relief on Blythe’s face. “That was quite the red carpet.”
    “Any more of that, I’ll be a nervous wreck.” Blythe carefully let go of Evie’s hand. “Any fractured fingers?”
    “Nah, I’m sturdier than that.” Wiggling her fingers to regain some blood flow, Evie looked around. “As your date, can I get you anything to drink?”
    “Just some club soda, please. I better stay very sober, at least until after the damn speech.”
    “Be right back.” As Evie made her way toward one of the waiters carrying trays of champagne and other drinks, she glanced over her shoulder. She half expected Blythe to revert to the uncomfortable, shy person she had first seemed to be. Instead, she appeared to converse with a couple of people that had approached her.
    Evie took two glasses of club soda from the waiter’s tray and began to stroll back toward Blythe. She took her time, weaving through the crowd consisting of celebrities and media people, all the while keeping her gaze locked on Blythe.

Chapter Nine
     
    “…for her sensitive and insightful documentation through photography, as well as for showing the courage