“And she isn’t French.” I laugh, taking this opportunity to change things up. “This is better than I thought. Let’s get a picture.” I put Meghan between us, and the three of us pose for pictures that will most likely be on the cover of all the French papers tomorrow. My hand loops around her waist. “You son of a bitch,” Alex says, his French accent sticking out. “You better get your paws off my woman.”
I shake my head, and I’m finally close enough to Jessica to call her name again. “Jessica.” She turns and looks at me, her green eyes so dark and angry. When she sees it’s me, she just turns back around and ignores me. “That woman,” I say to them before I storm toward her, the press no doubt watching every single moment.
She sees me and raises a microphone in her hand and turns to smile at me. “And here he is, the man of the hour.” I know I glare at her, and I don’t answer. Instead, I grab the microphone and toss it to the camera guy. Leaning in so only she hears this, I say, “If you fight me on this, you are going to make me do something neither of us is ready for.” I watch her eyes, and I know from the look of them she wants to kick me in the balls, tell me to fuck off, and turn and walk away. Not today. “Now get your ass on that red carpet and stand by my side where you’re supposed to be.”
“You’re making a scene,” she says, looking over and seeing Yamina and Yolanda approaching.
“Tyler,” Yamina says, “we are so sorry. We got your request.”
“Wasn’t my request,” I say to them, and she finally looks up at me. “The studio made a plan, and I’m respecting that plan. I have no idea what happened.”
“Cassie said you wanted to walk down the carpet with your parents,” Yolanda says, and I swallow down the rage by putting my hand in my pocket instead of punching something. “It was a simple request.”
“It was.” Jessica must feel the way I’ve changed and that I’m not okay, that this whole thing was in a way my own fault. “It’s not a big deal.”
“No,” I snap now, grabbing her hand and bringing her with me to where my parents are standing and talking to Cassie. “Seems that there was a mix-up.”
“Hello, dear,” my mother greets her with a smile. “You look so good.”
“Cassie, you wouldn’t know about the mix-up, would you?” I look straight at her, waiting for her to say something.
“I assumed with your parents here, you would want to walk down the carpet with them,” she says, refusing to back down. “It’s not every day they show up.”
Jessica turns to look at my father who finally breaks his silence. “Why don’t we discuss this when there aren’t so many eyes on us?” Holding out his hand to my mom, he turns to smile at the cameras. I finally pull Jessica to my side, putting an arm around her waist, and I smile for the press.
“Tyler. Let me go,” she hisses through her smile. “You didn’t pose like this with any of the other journalists.” I don’t say anything; instead, I just let her go, knowing if I don’t, it will be so much worse. So I hold out my elbow for her, and she whispers, “Thank you.”
“Oh, trust me,” I finally say when I look at her, “the last thing you should be doing is thanking me.” She nods her head and walks with me down the rest of the red carpet. A commotion behind me gets my attention, and when I turn around, I see Alex in the middle of it. “We are having dinner with my parents after this.”
“I’m not feeling well,” she lies, “so I’ll have to take a rain check.” We walk into the theater, and this time, we all walk to our assigned seats. I look down and see that Cassie is sitting on the other side of my parents with me next to my mother and Jessica next to me. Four empty seats beside Jessica are reserved for Alex. My mother leans over me to talk to Jessica, and she smiles with her.
Alex finally makes his way to his seat, and now I lean over Jessica. “I heard there was a cat fight on the red carpet, and it had nothing to do with me.”
“For once,” Jessica says under her breath, and I just glare at her, but she never looks my way. The lights flash once, then twice, and three times, letting everyone know that the movie will be starting. I sit back in my seat and watch the beginning of the movie. Jessica sits next to me with her hands in her lap. I feel her nervousness the whole time, her thumb moving up and down on her finger. I know what she’s doing; she’s biding her time before she can escape, knowing I can’t make a scene here.
I wait for it, wait for her to get up and excuse herself, walking out of the theater. “I’ll be right back,” I tell my father and walk out, this time walking faster to the door. “Jess,” I hiss before I follow her out.
She finally turns to me when we make our way to the back, hidden from view. “Tyler, I’m asking you to give me some space, please.” She stands with her back toward the wall of the building, and as I walk forward, she backs up.
“I knew when I first saw that dress that it would look amazing,” I say, looking at her from head to toe. “I knew you would take my breath away, and you do.” She looks down now, her shoulders slumping a bit. “I’m sorry, baby.” I get closer and then see people walking around, so I stop. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, and she looks up. “I’m so sorry there was a mix-up.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She tries to pretend it doesn’t matter, but it does to her, to me, and to us.
“It does matter,” I finally say. “Please spend the rest of the night with me, by my side.”
“People are going to talk,” she says, and I shake my head.
“I promise no one is going to know anything. We are going to go back into the movie,” I tell her, my hands itching to push the hair away from her face, “then we are all going to go to the reception and shake hands and take pictures, and then we are going to go back to my room. No one is going to know anything, just like no one knows anything now.”
“Tyler,” she whispers, “I don’t want to be in this fight with Cassie. I don’t want to go toe-to-toe with her.”
“I promise you, I will handle her.” Finally, her eyes look up.
“If you talk to her, she is going to know she got to me”—she shakes her head—“and I don’t want her to know.”
“She crossed a line, and I’m not letting her get away with it,” I tell her. “She doesn’t speak for me.” My hand finally reaches out to her, and I hold it, turning my body to block it from any prying eyes. “Please.”
“You aren’t going to let up, are you?” she asks, her eyes becoming a touch brighter.
I shake my head. “No, not when it comes to you,” I finally say, and she nods her head.
“Go back in,” she says, “I’m going to go to the bathroom and freshen up.”
“It kills me that I can’t kiss you right now,” I say, my hand squeezing hers. As I turn and walk away from her, my feet are heavy for leaving her, so I stop at the bar inside the waiting area to make sure people see me apart from her. I watch her walk back into the movie, her head down as always. She doesn’t see the heads that turn to look at her; she doesn’t see the men who smile at her secretly. I stand at the bar drinking the whiskey that the bartender poured for me, taking my time getting my heart back to normal so I can go back in there and be Tyler the actor. I’m going to need every acting skill I’ve ever learned not to look hopelessly in love with a woman who has the power to destroy me.