He smiled softly, gifting me one lonely dimple. Then he pressed a tender kiss to my cheek.
“And, you know,” I told him, when his lips lingered, “you were right. The steak really did make up for everything else.”
His huff of amusement made me grin. I was happy I could make Ian laugh on a night when he was so obviously on the clock, going through the motions.
I was, once again, grateful that my own livelihood didn’t rely on my ability to charm anyone else.
twenty-one
IAN
The movie premiere was chaotic, but that was nothing new.
Fans gathered behind barriers at the entrance, yelling and waving. Cameras flashed in intervals along the red carpet as photographers yelled out instructions. A long line of interviewers and hosts waited for their turn to speak with anyone involved with the Inferno Man franchise.
Admittedly, I didn’t love this part of my job. When I cut back on accepting new roles in the future, I definitely wouldn’t miss all the chaos and demands and travel that went along with promoting a film.
I was loitering near the arrival area, killing time by signing autographs and taking photos with fans while waiting for Joan’s car to arrive. Darren remained by my side, always vigilant. Eddie J and Gloria were both nearby as well, on their phones.
At my request, Gloria had sent a hair, makeup, and wardrobe team to the beach house early in the day. I’d had a lunch meeting with my agent, and then I’d gone directly to an appointment with my designer. Due to these obligations and prior commitments, Joan and I had been forced to prepare for the evening’s festivities and arrive separately. But now, with the cast photos and several interviews already out of the way, I was just waiting forher arrival so we could do a pass on the red carpet before heading inside for a viewing of the film.
I felt terrible about leaving her alone all day, but she’d told me over and over that she was fine—more than capable of handling a little time on her own. So, I’d trusted her.
But I knew she wasn’t used to this type of spectacle or the hectic nature of these events. How she’d be pulled in different directions and overwhelmed by so many people and so much noise and attention. Uneasiness churned in my gut at the thought of her walking into all this chaos without me there to prepare her.
“The driver said they’re here,” Eddie J called suddenly.
My attention immediately went to the arrival area, some fifty feet away, where limos and hired cars released their passengers. My eyes searched for Joan, but I didn’t see her.
“Oh my God,” Eddie J muttered.
I followed where his gaze was fixed and did a double take at the woman standing there. She’d just stepped out from behind the man helping her from the car. It was Joan, but ... it looked nothing like her.
Her hair—her hair was platinum blond and pinned up with loose curls framing her face. I was used to seeing women and men heavily made up for the camera, but even from this distance, I could see that the makeup artist had not gone for a natural look. Joan’s lips and eyes were dark and dramatic, cheeks glossy with color.
But perhaps the most noticeable change to Joan’s appearance was the spray tan. The dress she wore was gorgeous. I’d had a designer send over four options for Joan to choose from. They’d been altered for her body, and the elegant beaded silver gown she’d decided on suited her. The strapless column hugged her form, leaving her arms and shoulders bare. But all that skin on display looked nearly orange from the airbrush job.
The person who’d just emerged from that car looked nothing like the woman I loved. It was like they’d covered up her natural beauty, her confidence—everything that made Joan, Joan.
“I’ll go get her,” Eddie J said, and I realized I’d just been standing there, staring in disbelief.
Spinning to face Gloria, I lowered my voice until it was practically a growl. “What did they do to her?”
My manager pursed her lips. “I sent a trusted team over, Dorian, but they ran into some issues. Her hair, for one. The root touch-up didn’t cover all that gray, so they just went blond. I, for one, think it makes her look much younger.”
Anger burned beneath my skin. I knew my face was hot. “It was supposed to be simple hair and makeup, Gloria,” I gritted out between clenched teeth.
“I don’t see a problem.” She returned her attention to her phone. “They did her hair and her makeup.”
“She didn’t need a dye job or-or a shitty spray tan.”
My manager huffed an annoyed sigh and met my gaze. “You should be more grateful, Dorian. She had a farmer’s tan, for Christ’s sake. What was I supposed to do? Let you be humiliated at your own premiere? A fucking farmer’s tan.”
“She’s a fucking farmer, Gloria. What did you expect?”
“Heeeeyyy!” Eddie J called abruptly, and I spun to face him.
He was standing there, wide-eyed with Joan. They were much closer than I’d expected, close enough to have easily heard the last part of my conversation with Gloria. I’d gotten carried away. I’d just been so angry—at the ridiculous expectations and superficial beauty standards and the way Gloria had tried to shame someone I cared about. I was used to people passing judgment on my face and my body. It was just life in this business.
