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“Oh, that?” Jacks said, looking at the chaos outside the car as if noticing it for the first time. “Yeah, annoying, I know. I wish the paparazzi would just get a life. Trust me, the only way to handle them is to ignore them. Just be yourself, okay? They’re going to love you.”
Maddy nodded numbly. What else could she do? For Jacks the moment could not have been more ordinary. For her, it couldn’t be more extraordinary. Or horrific. Jacks gave her a final, reassuring smile. Then the attendants opened the car doors, and Maddy Montgomery stepped into the lights.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“RIGHT HERE!” “RIGHT HERE!” “RIGHT HERE, DARLING!” “WHAT’S YOUR NAME?!” “GIVE US A SMILE!” “GIVE US A SMILE, BEAUTIFUL!” “OVER THE SHOULDER NOW!” “OVER THE SHOULDER!”
The shouts of the paparazzi were so startling, and the explosion of light so astonishing, that Maddy almost fell right back into the car seat. She wobbled in her heels as she steadied herself with the car door, then tried her best to manage a smile. She turned to look for Jacks but was met with only more blinding flashes from the other side of the car. She was surrounded. Trapped in a prison of unwanted attention like some kind of zoo animal. As she tried to take a shaky step forward, the paparazzi shouts gave way to questions screamed at her by camcorder-wielding journalists.
“IS THAT YOU IN THE PICTURE?!” “ARE YOU JACKSON’S MYSTERY GIRL?!” “HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE DATING AN ANGEL?!” “WHEN’S THE WEDDING, HONEY?!”
Maddy stumbled again and reached a hand back for the car door, but the attendant had closed it, and the car was gone. Her eyes darted, searching wildly for an escape. She looked to the sidewalk and saw crowds of hysterical fans crashing against metal barricades like the waves of some violent sea. Their focus had instantly shifted from Steven and Sierra Churchson, brother and sister twins who were both getting Commissioned this year, to Jacks and Maddy. The Churchsons gave an annoyed glance back toward Jacks and began moving down the carpet. The crowds were screaming something at Maddy she couldn’t make out and reaching for her with a thousand desperate hands. Maddy was suddenly certain that if they could get to her, they would simply swallow her up. Camera shutters whirred on automatic. Flashes exploded like relentless lightning. The screams of fans rang in her ears. All of a sudden she felt the ground begin to move under her feet, rolling like the deck of a ship. Voices echoed now, coming to her as if she were underwater. As if she were drowning. The world spun, and she willed herself to move forward one final time. When she felt the toe of her heel catch on the curb, she was sure, at last, she was going to go down.
A hand reached out and grabbed her firmly by the arm.
It was Jacks.
“You okay?” he yelled over the roar.
Maddy nodded weakly.
“Come on, this way,” he encouraged, and led her stumbling up the carpet.
Maddy used Jacks’s arm to steady herself as she tried to reassemble the splintered pieces of her consciousness. She kept her head down, but whenever she had to look up, she met pair after pair of disbelieving eyes. They couldn’t all be staring at her, could they? After a moment, a woman wearing a pantsuit and a scowl marched up to them.
“Where have you been?” she said to Jacks. “They’re about to close the carpet and the Angels Weekly bitch
is breathing down my neck. You have a two-hour commitment, by the way, don’t forget that.” Then she turned and assessed Maddy coldly. “Who’s this?”
“Darcy, this is Maddy,” Jacks said, smiling so warmly at Maddy he seemed to glow. “Maddy, this is Darcy, my publicist.” Darcy’s eyes flickered over Maddy’s dress, shoes, and hair. Then she stuck out her hand.
“Hi, Maddy. Nice to meet you.”
Maddy attempted a polite smile. “Nice to—” but Darcy had already turned back to Jacks.
“You have to do the A! interview. And please do the gifting suite after, and actually take something this time.” She looked at her Berry. “Come on; we need to hurry.” She took Jacks by the arm and led him through the crowd. Maddy followed, trying her best to keep up. She could hear the woman hissing something at Jacks, something like, “You couldn’t have told me first so I could have at least done some damage control?” They approached a large white wall with the Angels Weekly logo repeated over and over on it and a firing squad of photographers and TV cameras standing directly opposite. Jacks turned and reached his hand back for Maddy.
“Come on!” he said.
“Jacks, no—” Maddy protested, but with seemingly no effort at all he took her by the arm and pulled her in front of the wall with him.
A blistering explosion of light followed.
Then more shouting: Together! Individual! Together again! They wanted to know who Maddy was wearing. The question made no sense to her whatsoever, so she didn’t try and answer. Instead she focused on staying upright in her heels. After pictures Darcy led them quickly down the carpet and past the press line.
“No press. We’re skipping the press,” she said, waving off the reporters giving her dirty looks. Maddy wondered if the sudden change of plans had anything to do with her. She had the sinking feeling it did. “I’ll just deal with this tomorrow,” Darcy muttered. “We’ll tell them—”
“Jacks!” A voice cut through the clamor behind them. Even Maddy recognized it. The three turned.
It was Tara Reeves of A! She was wearing a bedazzled gown cut up the side to expose her tanned leg and Jimmy Choo heels. She pressed her hands together like she was praying and gave Jacks a pleading expression.
“We’re not doing press, Jackson,” Darcy said sternly.
Yeah, Jacks, Maddy mentally chimed in agreement, we don’t need to.
“Come on, Tara’s really sweet,” he said, and pulled Maddy over to the waiting camera crew. Darcy pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead and made a face like a silent scream.
“The destination for young Angel City tonight,” Tara announced, doing her bubbly lead-in, “this is Angels Weekly’s Pre-Commissioning party in honor of this year’s class of nominees—and especially Jackson Godspeed!” She turned to Jacks and Maddy. “And here is the star of the evening himself! Hi, Jacks!”
