like a rare bird in a cage, photographed and ogled endlessly. Being out among the masses was vastly different from a shoot where it was just her and the lens. When she was in control.
She’d never liked this side of her career. This star worship that was as shallow and fake as the artificial minilights twinkling above them.
Before they reached the elevators, she saw the people clustered in the lobby waiting. An old panic began bubbling inside her and she immediately slowed, her gaze searching for another means to avoid this crush.
His hand came up to rest at the small of her back. “Take a breath, meu amor.”
She did, then another longer, deeper one. “I don’t see anyone I know, at least not personally.”
There was no shortage of celebrities waiting in their finery for the elevator. Though she was comfortable strutting her stuff in front of a camera, she hated competing one-on-one with her peers face-to-face!
In her eyes, she always came up lacking. She was still the chubby girl whom her mother had taken in hand and had taught how to rid herself of weight. Who’d learned a dangerous lesson that had nearly taken her life.
“This way,” Rafael said, herding her to the last elevator on the left where three men and an elegant woman waited.
She didn’t know them, but it was clear by their welcoming expressions that they knew Rafael well. It was the first time that she could recall someone recognizing him before her and the feeling was startling. Almost freeing.
“Good to see you, Rafael,” the older of the men said as he extended his hand. “The new phones look fantastic in the gift bags. Before the festival is over, everyone will be clambering for one of them.”
Rafael smiled as he shook hands with the man. “I certainly hope so. Please, allow me to introduce my wife, Leila Santiago. Leila, this is the producer of Bastion 9.”
Introductions were quickly made, and Leila discovered the woman was the producer’s wife. The other gentleman was the writer, having just won an award for his original script on a previous movie.
“Our daughter is a true fan of yours,” the woman said, surprising Leila. “She dreams of being a model one day and you are the woman she’s determined to emulate.”
“I wish her much success,” Leila said. And none of the heartache.
She fervently hoped that the girl was blessed with a body that remained lithe. That she avoided the pitfalls that had nearly cost Leila her life. That if she did fail, she would be able to find help quickly at a place like her private clinic, where Leila had already given aide to countless other young girls.
The elevator doors opened and they trooped into the waiting car. Before others could crowd in behind them, she saw Rafael punch the button to close the doors.
She flashed him a grateful smile which he acknowledged with a nod and wink that did odd things to her insides and calmed her as none of her inner talks could. If only he could shut out the rest of the world so easily.
“We have an exciting surprise lined up at the party,” the producer said. “You must make an effort to be there at the launch of it.”
“Of course,” Rafael said before she could say a word. “We wouldn’t dream of missing it.”
She would. She’d prefer a night alone with her husband. She wanted to unburden her soul. But it would have to wait.
The elevator doors whooshed open and she pushed her way out, eager to get away from strangers. To catch a breath that wasn’t laced with the spicy scent that was uniquely Rafael’s.
But she got no more than three steps before he was at her side. “Are you all right?”
“You know I dislike small closed spaces,” she said.
“As much as I despise the cameras that follow us around.” He huffed a breath, and she felt his annoyance vibrate through her in a liquid wave.
Yes, this was her world. She’d gladly guide him through it – as long as he stayed close.
“This red carpet we’re about to trod down en route to the Palais du Cinéma is hellish for me too,” she admitted.
“You are serious?”
“Very. It’s different when it’s just me and the camera. I’m in control then. But they—” she nodded at the throng ahead of them “—they are calling the shots now.”
“Only if you let them, Leila.”
He was right, of course. Still it served to remind her how to get through this crush.
“Just smile. Pretend you see a dear friend just beyond the camera.”
“Is that what you do?” he asked.
“Sometimes.” But usually she looked for him in the crowd, even though she knew he’d not be there.
He took a breath, then nodded and touched his fingers to her back again. “Let’s go, then. The sooner we get through this ordeal, the sooner we can find our seats at the cinema.”
And then they’d face the endless swirl of afterpremiere parties, the first having already been decided by him. She didn’t mind, for one was just like the other. Privacy was a hard-won commodity here.
When they’d reached their plush seats at the cinema, Leila allowed herself to relax. Celebrities, movie moguls and industry professionals all moved to their seats before the lights dimmed.
Later, as the credits rolled, she was stunned at how much Rafael had invested in this film, and not just in the technical support he’d given. As the producer in the elevator had said, every complimentary bag held Rafael’s new mobile device. They were as much the talk of the evening as the movie itself with those in the audience activating their phones now.
“I didn’t realize they were all operational,” she said.
He gave a careless shrug. “I simply provided a month’s complimentary service.”
The cost of such a move stunned her, for though she knew he’d achieved great wealth in the past year, she’d never dreamed he could afford such extravagance! Did she really know this man next to her at all?
The yacht had been decorated to mimic the set of the movie, a futuristic panorama right down to the uniforms of the waitstaff. The food was lavish. The drinks plentiful.
Stars glittered in an indigo sky and on the decks of the yacht as well. Leila had adored the nightlife in the early days of their marriage, and would party until dawn with Rafael. But the past few years her enjoyment of the jet-set gaiety had waned.
Even now the best French champagne tasted bitter to her. And the man she’d married seemed a powerful stranger.
He commanded attention. People knew his name. Influential people in all walks of life.
Gone was the carefree young designer who’d created some technological wonder at a time that everyone clambered for something new and groundbreaking. He was a star in his world just as she was in hers.
Only she’d been a comeback queen. It had been grueling to step back in front of the camera
