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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“If we don’t leave this second, we will never leave,” Tara demanded from the hallway of the hotel suite living room.
Ella looked in the mirror affixed to the wall, staring at Manny, who sat on the king-size bed. “My marching orders are at an all-time high.”
“Demanding, but she means well.” Manny pushed off the bed and stood. “Everything about this is perfect. Makeup, hair, and dress. All flawless. I wouldn’t have let the stylist leave if I didn’t agree. And Tara would have killed her. That sweet makeup artist too.” He clucked. “Just go have fun. I’ve got your babies taken care of; just text me when you’re home.”
“Seriously, Ella!” Tara yelled.
“Coming,” she returned at a lesser volume, giving Mannythe look,which he returned.
“Kiss me,” he demanded. “I’ll go first and feed her some lines to keep her happy.Ella’s so pretty. Ella’s gonna win.”
“Ella’s going to kick your pretty butt if you don’t stop.” Laughing, she shooed him out and turned back to the mirror, listening to them chat down the hall. “Tonight will be fine.”
With that, she headed to the living area, balancing in the heavy dress and killer shoes. Her hair looked au naturel, though it took hours to make it stayexactlythat way. “I’m ready.”
“Finally. Let me run next door to check on another client.” Tara was halfway out the hotel hallway door as Bishop walked in.
And everything slowed—except for her heart, which sped to the point that it might have been hatching a plan to escape and throw itself at his feet. There he stood, a towering force of nature, clad in a tuxedo with a simple black tie in place of a bowtie. His broad shoulders were covered in what had to be tailor-made perfection, and she didn’t know men’s fashion, but she did know that what Bishop woreworked. Freshly shaven and more handsome than she could possibly have imagined, Ella froze in place and watched him do the same.
Maybe ten empty feet stood between them, and he was the first one to take a step forward. “Ella…”
“Hi.” A blush tinged the word as much as it did her cheeks.
Bishop licked his lips, and he tore his eyes away, only to steal them back to her. “It’s one thing to see you pictured in a magazine like this. Damn, it’s another when you walk out.”
The pulsing thumps in her neck jumped. “Thanks. You look…” Was there even a word that could do him justice?
“Like I’ll blend in,” he finished for her.
Not if his life counted on it. “More like—”
“Are we ready?” Tara popped her head in the door. “Because by my watch,we’re late. Are you following or riding with us, Bishop?”
Bishop checked his watch. “Riding with. My truck’s already on site.”
They made their way to the elevator, Tara standing in between them. Ella couldn’t look away from the tips of her toes that popped out from the bottom of her dress. Because if she did, all she would see would be Bishop.
The doors opened, and Tara led the charge.
“You know who she reminds me of?” he asked as they crossed the hotel lobby.
“Who?”
“Our P.E. teacher, senior year.”
Ella laughed. “That bitch.”
“Right?” He chuckled, holding his hand out as they passed through the automatic doors and arrived at the side of a waiting Escalade. “Give her a whistle, and they might be one and the same.”
Relaxed, Ella climbed in first. They all rode in silence for the short drive to the awards show location. She tried to hide her clammy palms against her dress as the driver pulled up next to the curb for their grand entrance.
There they were at the Bloggies.Deep breath in.It was time to go to work.
Tara turned from the front passenger seat. “Smile, Ella.” She snapped a quick picture and posted it to her social media outlets. “Done. Good, okay. The comments are rolling in; people are alreadyspottingyou.” She pivoted to check the window. “I’m hopping out here. You look golden.”
Her phone buzzed with a thumbs-up text from Jay. He was already inside, working the crowd, revving up her fans, and making sure all was a well-oiled machine on the inside.