Unforgettable: Book Three (A Hollywood Love Story #3)(8)
“Bratrina! Bratrina!” the crowd roars wildly. I wish they’d all shut up. Katrina, on the other hand, decked out in a sleek silver sheath, hangs like a piece of jewelry from my arm and is relishing every minute of the hoopla. Wearing long matching opera gloves that cover her bandaged arm, she waves to the crowd and blows kisses. Flashing her dazzling smile, my sicko fiancée gives the paparazzi everything they could hope for. The walk down the red carpet feels like an eternity. Along the way, a chill sweeps over me. While the weather in Cannes has been perfect up until now, the air is now brisk and damp. April showers are in the forecast and they could start tonight.
Click! Click! Click! Click! Everywhere I look the flashes of cameras blind me. I’m sure photos of us will be plastered all over the Internet way before the screening ends. In fact, they could be up in mere minutes. A dark thought besieges me at the entrance to the theater. Shit. What if Zoey sees them? For sure, she’ll think Katrina and I are back together again and in love. My stomach bubbles with sudden panic. Though she must loathe me, that’s the last thing I want her to think. I’ve got to reach her before the photos go viral! But with the screening and Q&A session, that’s going to be next to impossible. I’m f*cked every which way I turn.
While movies at the prestigious Cannes Film Festival usually screen at the stadium-sized Grand Théatre Lumière, Conquest has set up a more intimate screening for five hundred broadcasters from around the world at a much smaller but elegant Art Deco theater in the center of town. The theater is jam-packed. A stunning blond usher, who could be a starlet herself, escorts us to the front row.
I take a seat next to Blake Burns and his wife Jennifer. They’re both wide-eyed with shock to see me with Katrina, who remains standing.
“Why, hello, Blake, darling!” breathes out Katrina, bending to give him a double cheek kiss. Visibly repulsed, Blake doesn’t stand up or return the favor.
“Where’s Zoey?” he asks me after Katrina and Jen exchange icy hellos.
Katrina shoots me a look that could kill. My skin heats under her scathing gaze. “Um, uh, she had to go back to LA. An emergency came up.”
Concern washes over Jen’s face. “Oh, Brandon, I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope everything’s all right.”
Nothing’s all right. I have the burning urge to blurt out everything, but Katrina’s a dangerous ticking time bomb. With a haughty fling of her platinum mane, she responds to Blake’s wife before I can.
“Jennifer, everything’s perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about.”
Smirking, she sits down next to me and clasps my hand for good measure. Her gloved fingers feel like fetters holding me prisoner. The rest of the Kurt Kussler cast, along with the series’ show runners, take their seats, sparing me from having to talk more about Zoey’s whereabouts. Perceiving her only as my assistant, they have no idea I planned on taking her to the red carpet premier of the Kurt Kussler season finale. Everyone’s here—my co-stars Kellie Fox, Jewel Starr, and Jibran Abdoo (the big-hearted French actor who plays my nefarious nemesis, The Locust) as well as Executive Producer Doug DeMille and Jewel’s husband, Director Niall Davies. Also sitting in the front row are Blake’s parents, who flew in earlier today—Saul Bernstein, the venerable head of Conquest Broadcasting, and his elegant wife, Helen.
The theater filled, Blake runs up to the stage amidst thundering applause. He welcomes everyone and then, without further ado, tells the eager audience, “Relax and enjoy the exciting season finale of Kurt Kussler.” As he returns to his seat, the lights dim and the red velvet curtain rises. Butterflies swarm my stomach. This is the first time I’ll be viewing the completed episode with sound effects and music.
The crowd enthusiastically applauds again when the opening credits roll on the big screen. “Get it! Got it? Good!” they shout out in unison with my gun-wielding character at the end. Goosebumps. Wow! I seriously didn’t know they were that into Kurt Kussler. I wonder if that’s what home viewers do each week when they tune into the show.
Following my signature line, Kurt Kussler: Season 5 Finale Screener pops up on the screen followed by: Written by Brandon Taylor. At the sight of my name, the audience yet again breaks into raucous applause, complete with cheers and whistles. I’m at once humbled and blown away. Excited and nervous. My skin prickles. For the first time in my career, I’ve been credited as a writer. This episode was my idea. My dream. My reality. One small thing’s missing—a title. I still haven’t thought of one, and the ones that were bounced around in the writers’ room didn’t do it for me.
Another onslaught of butterflies assaults my stomach as the special two-hour episode begins. Will they like it? Playing without commercials, it’ll run approximately ninety minutes. The theater is so quiet you can hear a pin drop. I swivel my head to check out the audience; even in the pitch-black theater, I can tell they’re spellbound. I return my attention to the screen, and I’m spellbound myself. The episode looks amazing. Our editing team has done such a great job, and the state-of-the-art sound system and big screen make it even more compelling to watch.
Close to the conclusion, Katrina, who I’ve all but forgotten about, whispers in my ear. “Darling, I have to use the restroom.”
“Fine,” I whisper back. “And don’t bother coming back,” I add silently.