don’t disturb him. He’ll be fine. Just send someone very, very pretty to sit beside him,” she said as she headed down the corridor toward the back of the stage, where there was a holding area for performers and those who were presenting.
As she rounded the corner, Dahlia ran smack into Owen Kestner, one of the evening’s nominees for Best Supporting Actor. A former NFL professional, the rough-and-tumble linebacker smiled at her excitedly.
“Dahlia Morrow! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” the handsome man exclaimed.
“Owen, how are you?” Dahlia said sweetly.
“Just a little nervous. How about you?”
Dahlia nodded. “Nervous, too, but excited.” She met his gaze evenly, taking note of his good looks and muscular frame. There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he stared at her intently. “So who’s your date this evening?” she asked coyly.
The man chuckled warmly. “I’m riding solo tonight,” he said, tossing her a quick wink. “But I saw you came with Drake Houston.”
Dahlia smiled as she took a step closer to him. She drew her fingers against the front of his shirt, adjusting his bow tie and the front of his tuxedo jacket. She tilted her head to stare up at him. “I did come with Drake, but it doesn’t mean I’ll be leaving with him,” she said, her tone dropping to a seductive whisper.
Owen smiled, his eyes brightening with interest. “And I imagine you’ll be hitting all the A-list parties after the ceremony?”
Dahlia grinned. “If that works for you?” she said, sensing that her A-list access was all that he would be looking for.
“Would you mind if my friend Charles tagged along?” he queried, his eyes wide with anticipation.
Dahlia laughed. “Not at all.”
Owen nodded eagerly, his smile bright. “My limo or yours?”
Dahlia laughed, winking her own eye. “Yours. I don’t want to leave my friend Drake stranded.”
* * *
“But it’s not like you had tickets?” Mason Boudreaux said, eyeing his younger brother with confusion. “Or did you have tickets?”
Guy Boudreaux cut his eyes skyward, annoyed by his older brother’s question. He nodded his head, the long length of his dreadlocks waving against his broad shoulders. “Of course I had tickets. Good seats, as a matter of fact. And invitations to the best Oscar parties. You can’t beat that kind of networking, brother!”
Mason nodded his understanding. “Well, I appreciate you giving up the Oscars to make it to my wedding.”
“What are best men for?” Guy said, beaming widely as he looked from his brother to his new sister-in-law.
The newly minted Phaedra Boudreaux smiled back. “So, what will you do when you do get back to California?” she asked, snuggling close to her new husband.
“I’ll be filming a commercial next week. I’m now the spokesman for the new Chanel for Men cologne.”
Having a lightbulb moment, Guy suddenly leaned forward in his seat. “Hey, by the way, Phaedra, I could really use some new head shots. Do you think you can hook me up?”
Mason rolled his eyes. “That means he wants a family discount!” he said as he hugged Phaedra tightly.
“No,” Guy protested. “That means I want it free.”
Phaedra, an award-winning professional photographer, laughed. “I think we could probably work something out.”
Guy winked. “I’d like that,” he said, laughing easily, his magnetic smile beaming brightly.
Mason shook his head. After a lengthy holiday abroad he was ready to be off a plane and back on land. He’d needed to resolve some unfinished business in Thailand, and the past week had been a test of his fortitude. He was thankful to finally be back in the United States and headed home.
After whirlwind visits to Asia and France, he and his family had stopped in London to refuel and again in New Orleans to drop off his sister Kamaya and her twin, Kendrick, at their parents’ home. Now they were headed to Dallas, Texas, to spend time with the Stallion family, Phaedra’s newfound kin, four brothers who shared her bloodline. Guy would be continuing on to Los Angeles by his lonesome. And Guy was anxious to get back.
“My money’s on Victory’s Daughter to win Best Picture,” Guy was saying. He and Phaedra were knee-deep in a conversation about movies.
“I absolutely loved Victory’s Daughter,” Phaedra exclaimed. “And it has to get an award for Best Cinematography. The imagery was spectacular!”
“Have you ever thought about doing films?” Guy asked, remembering that his new sister-in-law was renowned for her skills as a photojournalist.
Phaedra shook her head. “Not really. I love still photography. I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”
“I understand that,” Guy said. “That’s how I feel about acting.”
“So, who else do you think will win tonight?” Mason interjected.
Guy paused for a minute. “I’m betting on Dahlia Morrow for Best Director, and Halle stole the show with her performance as Victory, so she’s my bet for Best Actress.”
“Do you know Dahlia?” Phaedra queried.
Guy shook his head. “No, but I’ve been looking for an opportunity to meet her. I would love to be in one of her films.”
Phaedra smiled. “Well, I’d love to introduce you two. Dahlia and I are sorority sisters. We’ve been good friends for years,” she noted casually.
Guy nodded excitedly, gesturing with two thumbs pointed skyward. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about, another hookup! I am truly loving you, sister-in-law.”
Chapter 2
Leslie Stanton met Dahlia at the front door of her office with a large caffe latte and the morning paper. The robust black woman was shaking her head as Dahlia crossed the room to her upholstered chair and took a seat.
“Pray tell, how did you manage to have two dates for the Oscars?”
Dahlia shrugged. “Congratulations to you, too,” she said, meeting the woman’s gaze.
Leslie laughed. “Congratulations! It was an Oscar landslide! You don’t see that every year.”
Dahlia laughed with her. “Next time we’re sweeping Visual Effects and Best Original Screenplay, too. Mark my words!” she said as she opened the paper to the front page and stared.
The headline read “Oscar’s Golden Girl” and featured three images: Dahlia standing alone page center, a shot of her and Drake Houston to the left and another of her and Owen Kestner to the right. The tabloids were having a field day thinking she had left Drake standing at the Academy door while she’d partied
