This is batshit crazy.
Admittedly, I’ve never sat in front of the TV and watched a Hollywood awards show in my life. I’ve heard of the Oscars and even the Golden Globes, but I didn’t give two fucks about them. And Eden told me that this event tonight isn’t even a tenth of the size and grand spectacle of one of those other shows.
Still, I was completely thrown off balance the minute we alighted from the limousine that Colleen had arranged for us and was immediately blinded by what seemed like a million flashes going off.
“Don’t look directly at any person with a camera,” Eden had muttered out of the side of her mouth as I helped her out of the car. “You’ll be seeing stars for hours.”
“Too late,” I muttered back. “I’m temporarily blinded.”
She laughed as she stepped out, one long leg coming out first to rest on the curb. Her foot was encased in silver strappy heels, her leg completely bare to midthigh because of the slit in the satiny dark gray dress she was wearing that fit her like a glove. The top draped low over her chest but didn’t reveal any cleavage, and hung off her shoulders with long sleeves going down to her wrists. My tuxedo fit me perfectly, since Eden had sent his measurements to Colleen, but really…who gives a fuck when I’ve got Eden Goodnight on my arm? Someone came to her house today and arranged her hair, which is a multitude of pinned curls all over her head along with wavy tendrils that frame her face. Her makeup is flawless and she’s wearing berry-red lipstick that makes me think of how those full, pillowy lips would look around my cock in that color.
When we get back home to Newberry, that lipstick is coming out to play one night.
When Eden straightens, she puts her hand in the crook of my elbow and we begin walking toward the front of the Hyatt Regency Century Plaza where the ceremony will take place. This isn’t a televised event and will be an intimate affair according to Eden. Given the pomp and circumstance surrounding the stars alighting from limos and thousands of flashing cameras, I’d hate to see what wasn’t an intimate affair.
When we reach the lobby of the hotel, a man in a dark gray suit escorts us to a ballroom where just inside another round of picture taking ensues. This time it’s done in front of a large backdrop with the sponsorship logos printed on diagonal rows. Eden keeps her hand firmly on my elbow as she leads me to the front of the backdrop, which is bordered in front by probably a dozen photographers. Some are kneeling and crouching, while others are standing up, all poised and ready to take our pictures.
Eden strikes a sexy pose and slips her arm around my back. I follow suit and do the same to her, and she leans into the side of my body. I try to plaster a smile to my face as the camera flashes go off and people shout questions at Eden. I can honestly say I’ve never felt more awkward or out of place in my entire life. It’s bad enough these people are staring at us, but she’s also being peppered with questions left and right, making it impossible to even answer any of them. She’s asked about her dress and whether she and I are an official couple now.
Eden doesn’t address one question but just brilliantly smiles as she poses. After what seems like hours but was probably less than a minute, we’re escorted further into the ballroom where multiple round tables are set up and a large curtained stage is at one end of the room.
We’re led to one of the front tables and I have to assume it’s because Eden is an “it” girl right now. She’s a highly sought after actress for serious and coveted roles. She’s getting an award tonight for her humanitarianism, and I’m sure the organizers of this event want her to shine. I look around, taking in probably three hundred seats in all by counting the tables. There is going to be a formal dinner before the awards are given.
The tables are large and seat ten, with most of them filling up as more people enter. Eden introduces me to several people who come up to see her, and I want to laugh at how she gives fake air kisses to everyone. Thank God the guys all prefer handshakes, except for one guy who was clearly gay and gave me an air kiss.
“Eden, darling,” I hear as a woman a few decades older than Eden and me approaches. She’s dripping in silk, diamonds, and layers of makeup. I vaguely recognize her as an actress—a very popular one I think—but I’m not sure, as I just don’t watch a lot of movies or pay attention to that stuff.
After air kisses are exchanged, Eden introduces me to Meredith Winters, and I immediately recognize the name, although I still can’t place a movie she’s been in. That’s all on me, though, and not in any way related to her being an unforgettable actress.
Meredith gives me a careful once-over, spending extra time on my face. Then she turns to Eden and practically purrs, “This one is totally hot. Very good choice to get over Brad.”
Even though Eden rolls her eyes, instantly dismissing this woman’s claim that I’m just helping her get through a rough patch or some shit, my spine stiffens. Is that what people are thinking when they see us together? Is that what every photographer was doing as they snapped pictures? Comparing me to Brad Wright? Thinking I’m a temporary bed warmer?
Okay, granted…that was our original agreement.
Rebound sex.
But it’s so not that anymore. Our relationship still has an expiration date, but I want to tell this woman that I know Eden far better than she ever could, and I’m much more than just a hot dude.
And fuck, I’m pissed that this grates on my nerves.
I stand patiently beside Eden as she makes small talk with Meredith, and then several others approach. All attention is on Eden and I’m barely given a second look after I get the once-over. Not one single person I’m introduced to asks me a question about myself.
Instead, I listen in on Eden’s conversations, which shocks me to my core as to how shallow they are.
Eden, did you know that Bobbi Flynn got passed over for Midnight Ship and they’re offering it to Kennedy Caesar? They say it’s because Bobbi’s hooked on heroin again, but I heard from Grant, who heard from Liza that wasn’t true. It was just an addiction to sleeping pills.
About the only positive thing I can say about this experience so far is that Eden doesn’t seem to get sucked into these conversations. She smiles, she listens, and she empathizes, but she doesn’t postulate or add to any of the speculation. Still, it’s driving me batshit crazy to sit here in this penguin suit like I’m invisible and listen to this inane mockery of conversation.
Finally, I’m granted a reprieve, and it’s a special one at that when someone escorts a young man toward Eden. He’s tall, lanky, and his skin is dark as midnight. I smile when I see him tug uncomfortably on the neckline of his shirt and he looks about at home in a tuxedo as I do.
When Eden’s eyes land on the boy I can only assume is Samuel, she gives a soft, “I’m sorry…if you’ll excuse me,” to some movie producer she was talking to and practically runs up to Samuel. His smile gets big, matches the breadth of hers, and they lock in a tight hug where they rock back and forth. Warmth spreads throughout my chest watching this reunion, and I wait patiently for them to have their moment.
When Eden pulls back, my body goes still to see tears in her eyes until I realize they are happy ones, and my chest gets warmer when she takes Samuel by the hand and leads him directly to me for introduction.
“Samuel,” Eden says as she puts her arm around his shoulders and her other hand on my arm. “This is Coop. A very close and dear friend of mine for many, many years.”
I don’t begrudge her calling me a friend and not her lover, since the kid’s only fifteen. I grin at the boy and hold my hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Samuel. I’ve heard a lot about you from Eden.”
Samuel gives a side look to Eden then looks back to me with a grin. His accent is distinctly African, but his words are crisp and confident. “Did she tell you about the time we put a fake spider in her bed the first night she was in Ghana?”
Laughing, I squeeze Samuel’s hand before I release it. “Now that she didn’t tell me. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
Eden just beams at the two of us, and now she’s in her element. Talking to two people she cares about. Talking about things that matter.
We chat with Samuel for a few minutes, but then he’s led away by someone who wants to show him how to enter the stage. He’s apparently going to be giving Eden her award, although he’ll be sitting at our table. In fact, the minute he leaves, Eden rearranges the place cards and puts Samuel between us.
Smiling, I pull Eden’s chair out for her and temporarily sit in Samuel’s. A waiter magically appears and we give drink orders. I look around briefly and survey the room. It’s opulent with heavy crystal chandeliers, expensive carpeting, and expensive flowers absolutely drenching the place. The china and silver on the table probably cost a fortune, and I’m betting all of the jewelry in this room could end hunger in the third world.
Bringing my gaze to Eden, I find her watching me expectantly. “What do you think so far?”
“Pretty lavish,” I tell her.
“This is nothing,” she says with a wave of her hand. “A very small affair.”
“It’s overwhelming,” I tell her honestly.
She nods and gives me an understanding smile. “Don’t feel bad. It took me years to get used to this stuff. Now it seems normal to me.”
Years?
And all that time she was alone getting used to this strange world.
“Samuel’s great,” I say, and her face lights up.
“Isn’t he?” she gushes. “He’s so damn smart and such a hard worker. I’m going to help him with a college visa and then pay for his education once he gets over here.”
Not even surprised. “You’re amazing. I’m really proud of you, baby. You’ve taken life by the horns and made it your bitch, and tonight you deserved to be honored for the great things you do.”
Eden laughs softly and leans in to kiss me. “My sweet, poetic man.”
“Seriously,” I tell her, taking her chin between my finger and thumb. “You’re amazing. No matter all that shit that happened with Brad and what people say, you are an incredible person with astounding accomplishments. You’re quite a woman, Eden Goodnight.”
I’m amused that this makes Eden blush. I feel terrible when she says, “Thank you for saying that. You’re the first person who’s really cared for me who has complimented what I do for a living.”
With a hand to the back of her head, I pull Eden forward so she leans precariously on the edge of her chair toward me. I brush my lips against hers, then let my forehead drop until we’re touching. I have nothing to say to her. I can’t apologize for the years of loneliness she had because she chose to lead that life. And yet I can’t fault her for it either. The type of success she’s had is like one in a billion, and therefore how could she or I have any regrets about anything?
The lights start to dim and someone announces over a loudspeaker for guests to start making their way to their tables as the dinner will be starting in five minutes. Eden and I separate, our eyes still locked together for a moment.
She then smiles and whispers, “Thanks for coming out here with me, Coop.”
I grin at her and lean into her space, put my lips to her ear, and whisper back, “That ass was more than worth it.”
Eden giggles as she turns her face to rub her cheek against mine. “You’re crazy.”
“For you,” I murmur back to her, then stand up to move out of Samuel’s chair.
“Be honest now,” Eden says as she leans her head on my shoulder as our plane taxis down the runway. We’re catching the red-eye back to the East Coast. “What did you think of LA?”
Eden’s wearing a pair of faded jeans, a white T-shirt, and a navy blue blazer. We had plenty of time after the awards show to go back to her house, take a shower together, which inevitably led to some amazing fucking, and then catch a cab to the airport. While she was beyond sexy in that gray satiny gown tonight, I prefer her like this…all relaxed and casual with hardly any makeup on.
She’s not Eden Goodnight, award-winning actress, supermodel, multimillionaire, and a woman every man on the planet lusts for.
Tonight, like this as we head back to Newberry, she’s just my Eden.
Nudging me in the shoulder, she pushes. “And be super honest. No sugarcoating. You won’t hurt my feelings if you hated it.”
“I didn’t hate it,” I admit to her. “In fact, your neighborhood and that surrounding area is really nice. But fuck, Eden…the traffic to get places. It’s sucks ass. Way too many people.”
“Totally agree with you on that,” she says with a laugh.
“The people are kind of shallow, present company excluded.”
“Also agree.”
“The food’s too fancy for my tastes,” I add.
“I’m going to disagree with you on that. But then again, I love food, so I can’t be disappointed.”
I chuckle as the plane picks up speed as we barrel down the runway, the nose finally tilting up and we’re airborne. Eden snuggles in closer to me, looping an arm through mine and nuzzling her head against my shoulder. She’s exhausted, and I doubt her eyes will be open much longer.
I glance down at where our arms are intertwined. It’s a simple act. Eden and I had always been physically affectionate. We couldn’t be within a few feet of each other when we were first dating and not be touching each other somehow. It could have been holding hands as we walked, or having our legs pressed together at a football game as we sat on the bleachers, or her foot tapping against mine under a table as we studied. Of course, on those times we’d spend the night together, usually in my dorm room, we’d be wrapped around each other.
This reminds me of those times, when we were so in love we had to be touching, and yet part of this is not quite right.
Eden and I aren’t in love.
We’re not just having sex, though, either. That was stupid to think this could be something as simple as “just sex” with our history.
But we’re somewhere in between. There’s care and a deep intimacy. But I’m not sure either one of us is consumed with the other the way we were. Or at least I’m not sure I am with her.
Or maybe I am but it’s just a different type of consumption. Maybe as we’re older, things don’t have the same vibrancy as they did with youth leading the charge with our hormones.
I don’t know.
Don’t know what any of this fucking means except for one thing that has become perfectly clear.
I could never in a million years leave Newberry to live in Los Angeles. Eden’s world, her life there, is so antithetical to the type of person I am, I know I’d hate it there. And I know that despite what I’d come to feel for Eden as things progressed, it would never be strong enough to ever get me to go there with her.
This trip was nice. Eden was a superstar tonight. Her home is lovely. I met her business manager, and despite the screwup over the donation for the school fire, I like her. She cares for Eden and keeps her straight. Samuel was awesome, and that was the highlight of the trip.
But I’m glad to be leaving, and honestly, I’m completely fine with never going back there.