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I turn toward her, noting the paleness of her face as she wrings her hands together, trying desperately to keep her composure in front of the ever-rolling cameras around us.
“Stella!” Her head jerks up as she finally hears me.
“All finished with the finishing touches for tonight?” she asks with far too much enthusiasm, all play for the footage.
I take her arm and gently guide her away to the most private area I can find, but it’s not much with the lenses still in our faces. We have no privacy.
“What’s wrong?” I ask in a low voice. “You’re white as a ghost.”
She tries to brush off my question, but I insist.
“Tell me,” I urge. “We’re about to host two hundred people at this charity event. If you’re not feeling well?—”
“Oh, no, no, it’s not that,” she quickly reassures me, glancing at the nearest camera in a mild panic. “I just…” Her lips purse, and I cock my head.
“Stella…”
“I get stage fright in front of crowds,” she whispers. “It triggers my anxiety.”
I gape at her in disbelief for a moment. “You’re an actress,” I sputter, dumbfounded by the admission. “How can that be?”
“It’s different in a studio, surrounded by directors and grunts,” she breathes. “That’s why I never did stage work. I was too terrified to be in front of a live audience.”
Momentarily speechless, I wish Forrest was here to give some sage advice on the matter. Crowds have never fazed me in the least.
“That’s good,” I say suddenly. “Especially tonight.”
She gawks at me in disbelief, waving her hands around the fully prepared ballroom, mere hours away from filling to capacity. “How do you figure that? We’re hosting this thing, and I’m going to make an ass out of both of us.”
“This is a charity event for mental health awareness, isn’t it?”
She continues to stare at me, my meaning not sinking in. “So?”
“Isn’t anxiety a part of mental health?” I press. Slowly, understanding illuminates her somber gaze. “You have a special connection to this event, Heartbreaker. You can reach everyonewith your own story.” Uncertainty colors her expression, but I surge onward. “Just think about how much money you could raise for the foundation.”
She remains silent for a long moment, the wheels of her head turning as she considers my words.
“Come on, you two.” Anya joins us impatiently, interrupting our conversation entirely, and we eye her with a joint, outward grunt. “It’s time to get back and get you dressed for the event tonight. Stop hiding in a corner.”
“Aren’t you even going to compliment us on our amazing planning?” I tease, extending my arm for Stella to take. Gratefully, she takes hold as Anya casts us a nasty look.
“Congratulate you on finally doing the jobs you’re contracted for?” she barks at me. “I don’t think so.”
She marches ahead of us, delivering orders to some others as we move, and I roll my eyes before winking at Stella. “Some people are never satisfied.”
“Thirteen more days,” Stella reminds me.
Thirteen more days.
By six o’clock, we’re back in the ballroom, dressed for the event after spending over an hour in the trailer behind the cabin.
I can’t stop looking at Stella in her flowing blue gown, cleavage teasing me in the low lighting as we wait for the guests to arrive. She’s not as waxen as she was earlier, but I can sense the nervousness in her. I take her hand, noticing her sweaty palms.
“I’m right here at your side,” I remind her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Biting on her lower lip, she bows her head, thick eyelashes hiding her intense stare.
“I appreciate you, Gabe,” she whispers, and the words make me inordinately pleased.
