Dazzled by Jane Harvey-Berrick Read Free Book Online Page B

every eyeball staring, or popping, possibly. Several flashes of light followed us as people took snaps with their camera phones. I couldn’t help tensing up.
    “Just keep smiling, Miles,” whispered Lilia, out of the corner of her mouth.
    Easier said than done when I felt like puking.
    I helped her into the limo that was waiting for us. I found myself missing Earl. The new driver didn’t speak, just pulled out into the evening traffic. My stomach rumbled again, and Lilia looked at me quizzically.
    “Yeah, sorry. I haven’t had a chance to eat today. I’m starving.”
    “Hmm, they probably want to keep you mean and lean. There’ll be canapés tonight, but nobody ever eats them.”
    “Why not?”
    “Well, the whole possibility of getting caught on camera with food in your teeth or crumbs on your clothes; plus, everybody is on a diet.”
    Oh.
    “Except you.”
    Oh .
    The journey was short, mercifully, because I had no idea what to say to Lilia. She stared out of the window, frowning slightly, and I really, really wished the limo had a drinks cabinet.
    As we approached the hotel hosting the awards ceremony, the sound increased block by block. Soon, the yelling was appalling and I was on my last nerve by the time the limo slowed to a halt. Plus, driving up to a face full of flashing cameras was just damn scary. I felt like a Christian arriving at the Coliseum. Lilia was relaxed, but my heart was racing like I’d just met scary Miley Cyrus in a dark alley.
    Lilia leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “You’ll be fine.”
    And with the touch of her lips, my heart rate spiked. It was possible I’d have a stroke, right there on the red carpet. I wondered how much the paparazzi would get for photographs of that. I guess it depended on whether or not Lilia would give me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
    A valet opened the door and I stepped out first, then turned to help Lilia. I was nearly blinded by all the camera flashes. I tried to smile, but my face was impossibly frozen.
    Lilia posed and pirouetted for the cameras, and I stood there, as useful as a ham sandwich at a Bar Mitzvah.
    Eventually she signaled for me to join her. Another barrage of lights flashed our way and this time the paparazzi yelled out.
    “Who’s the guy, Lilia? Are you two dating? What’s the story?”
    She smiled without replying, and towed me into the hotel, then turned and waved to her adoring public. And right then, with my cheek still burning from her kiss, I was one of them.
    Inside we were met by Rhonda. She must have come in the back exit. Her and her wizened ass. I really wished she hadn’t said that: I just couldn’t get the picture out of my mind. It was going to give me nightmares.
    She escorted us toward a group of well-oiled men poured into expensive tuxedos. I recognized Donald Hyde from Rhonda’s quick show-and-tell, and I guessed the rest were the other studio chiefs.
    Lilia air-kissed them all and soaked up the compliments. I was really going to have to learn how to do that . Then it was my turn. I didn’t air-kiss, of course: I wasn’t that much of a moron. I shook hands in a manly way.
    “This is our young British star, Miles Stephens.”
    That was fucking funny! Star? HA! Rhonda really knew how to talk the talk.
    We chatted superficially and I managed not to open my mouth to insert a foot. Rhonda gave me a small nod: it had gone well.
    I would have loved to say I relaxed after that, but once I’d been paraded, I was left by myself – Johnny no mates. In other words, I was completely ignored. Lilia was off being, well, Lilia – movie star, and Rhonda was schmoozing. Occasionally, she marched over and trotted me off to shake hands with some other suit, or kiss some woman with the shiny, stretched face of the over-botoxed brigade, which I was beginning to recognize.
    It was pretty cool though, for a lad from the wrong part of north London. I mean, there were a lot of serious stars there. I felt like I’d walked into a