So she motioned a bigger get-over-here arm gesture, and he heaved out a breath before straightening and walking to her. They smiled and posed, and then she thanked the photographers and headed toward the door leading into the hotel.
“Did you not want to be in pictures?”
Roman shook his head. “No, it’s fine.”
Inside, they walked into the Oregon Ballroom, and she immediately gasped, a tingling sensation spreading through her whole body. “My goodness, it’s gorgeous.” Round tables filled the room, with floor-length silver tablecloths and blue napkins. The centerpieces were beautiful white and silver flowers, with a miniature Eddie Award trophy rising from the center. The back of the stage was an impressive structure with tall, textured plexiglass windows with blue and purple lights behind. An attendant led them to their seats, which were perfect. Close to the stage and facing the stage, so they wouldn’t have to turn their chairs around once the ceremony started.
Once she set her handbag at her seat, she and Roman went around the room, chatting with all the other attendees—many who were YouTubers that she knew, who created many different genres of video content—until everyone arrived and it was time for the meal to be served.
She leaned in close to Roman as they sat down at their table. “Is everything okay? You’ve been seeming really distant and hesitant all evening.”
“Everything is fine.” He gave her a full, beautiful smile. “Enjoy your evening! You’ve worked hard for this.”
By the time their waiter cleared away their salads, it became even more clear that something was up with Roman. He still wasn’t being himself, and she couldn’t keep her mind off it.
“For the lady,” the waiter said as he placed the entrée she had chosen in front of her, “wild-caught northwest salmon with roasted yellow beets, foraged mushrooms, and fried Brussel sprouts. And for the gentleman,” he placed a plate in front of him, “Painted Hills Ranch grass-fed grilled rib eye steak with potato puree, winter squash, and a demi-glace.”
She looked up at the waiter. “Thank you. This looks delicious.”
During the meal, she and Roman chatted with their table mates, one of which was also up for an award, but in a different category than Bex was. They mostly talked about the awards and their shows and the roles the others at the table played.
Roman took a sip of his drink. “So, what kinds of perks come from winning an Eddie?”
His question had been aimed at Tatum, the woman at the table with her own YouTube channel, so she answered. “I’ve seen winners get more than a million new subscribers. These awards give the winners so much exposure that it leads to interviews, guest spots on other big channels, and sometimes even book deals.”
Bex glanced over at Roman. Why did it seem like he wasn’t okay with that?
When all of the entrees had been cleared off the tables and all of the desserts—cheesecake with a blackberry sauce drizzled over it—were served, the ceremony started, with the organizers giving a few speeches. Then it was time for the awards themselves.
Bex had been thrilled that she was a finalist. It had already given her a significant boost in subscribers and views of all of her videos. That, in itself, had been amazing. She hadn’t even let herself dream that she might win, because she didn’t want her hopes dashed. This was her first year being a finalist, and creators were rarely bestowed with the award their first year.
She totally and completely thought she’d be cool as a tall glass of milk when they were announcing the finalists in her category. With zero expectation of winning, that was how it was supposed to be, right? She knew and admired all four of the other finalists, so her plan was to just cheer on whichever of her peers was announced as the winner.
Yet her heart was pounding and her breathing was shallow, making her feel lightheaded. Roman gave her hand a squeeze, so she looked over at him. His confident smile was just what she needed to convince her body to take a few normal breaths.
“And the winner is...” One of the two presenters behind the podium opened an envelope and pulled out the card inside. She leaned in close to the microphone. “Bex Sterling with Bexlandia!”
Did she really just hear her name? Was it a fluke? Did they say the wrong name? Everyone on her table was motioning for her to stand up or to go to the front, so she stood in a daze. Roman gave her one last hand squeeze, and she made her way to the stage to give an acceptance speech she had not planned.
18
Roman
For being as surprised as she was when they called out her name as the winner, Bex sure seemed prepared when she walked to the podium to give her acceptance speech. Maybe she was just that good at public speaking without preparing.
As Roman watched her on the stage, talking about why she started Bexlandia and about all the people who supported her in her dream, he started to grasp what a monumental feat she had accomplished. His heart swelled with pride. What she had accomplished was rather incredible, and he was more than a little impressed. He was glad he’d gotten this glimpse into a business he hadn’t known much about at all until he met Bex.
She thanked the people who were instrumental in her getting the award—like her sisters and her roommates, who were regularly a part of her show, and especially Nikki, who made magic out of what she handed her. And, of course, her nephew videographer, Enoch. “And I need to thank Roman Powell, who is with me here tonight. Against his better judgment, he said yes to a series of four interviews and a whole lot of things neither of us expected. Like being chased down by a murderous deer who felt the need to protect his territory, being attacked by a blanket-shrouded mannequin, and being here together tonight.” The audience all chuckled before she went on to finish her speech.
How was he simultaneously feeling win-the-Powerball lucky to be Bex’s plus one for such an important award and so uneasy that she was making their relationship public? With how far the memes of people “shipping” them had spread, he couldn’t imagine how much the news of them actually dating would spread.
Roman walked arm-in-arm with Bex into the Columbia room, where the after party was being held. The room was smaller but still grand, less elegant but more festive, the lights were lower but flashing more. Like a night club, but although he could feel the bass in his chest, it wasn’t so loud that conversation was obliterated. A bar and refreshments table sat at the back of the room, with small standing-height tables dotting the outer edge of the room.
He actually enjoyed going around with Bex to talk with creators who she had met at conferences or conventions, ones she had chatted with online but not in person, as well as those that she had just admired from afar. This was so much different from the business receptions and parties he went to. The mood here was more light and fun. It seemed like the people here were more in direct competition with each other than he was with business friends he got together with, yet there didn’t seem to be an air of competition here. More like people who were all trying to build one another up. He had never seen anything like it.
“Jules!” Bex said as she moved around a crowd to hug someone she was obviously friends with. He felt like he should know her, too, and not knowing her exposed a huge hole in his pop culture knowledge.