Chris left for LA the day before the premier, leaving her to come down Friday morning on her own.

Thoughtfully, he’d booked her a first-class seat. It seemed extravagant for a two and a half hour flight, but she had to admit it was a nice experience. Shortly after takeoff, the flight attendant served her a glass of champagne and dish of California rolls as a snack—certainly not something she’d ever experienced in coach.

Sure that he’d be busy before his big premier, she’d assured him that she was quite capable of either renting a car or taking a cab, but he’d insisted on picking her up at the airport. There was a small crowd moving past the security section with her and it took her a few moments to spot him, but sure enough, there he was, half his face covered with sunglasses, the other half wearing a big grin.

They pushed their way toward each other, and he greeted her with a gentlemanly kiss before grabbing her carry-on bag and taking her hand. “Parked as close as I could, but the car’s still a bit of a walk,” he said apologetically.

“I could have just met you on the sidewalk,” she said. She was conscious of her hand in his. Sure it was crowded and no doubt he didn’t want them to get separated, but it felt oddly official; they were no longer trying to hide their relationship. Which was good, because despite his sunglasses, she’d already caught a few people staring at them—at Chris—as if wondering if he was who they thought he was.

“Nah, I like coming and meeting your properly. Gorgeous day here in LA. I hope you brought your sunglasses.”

“Sunglasses, sun hat, sunscreen, the works,” she said. “I came prepared.”

“Good. I’ve made a few preparations myself. I’ll fill you in on the way back to my place.”

She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. They walked to short term parking and found his car, an understated Lexus GS Hybrid. He popped her bag into the trunk, opened her door for her, got in the driver’s side, and they were off.

“I thought everyone in LA drove a convertible,” she said as he turned onto the freeway. Cars sped past at alarming speeds, down six lanes, and palm trees lined the embankment. Already it felt more glamorous and exciting than anything Portland—let alone Silverweed Falls—had to offer.

“I always thought convertibles were overrated,” he said. “Wind in your hair, bugs in your teeth, all that.”

“You’re a movie star now,” she reminded him. “Gotta uphold your image. Suffer for your art.”

He chuckled. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m taking you out for lunch, then we head back to my place. We’ve got a limo coming to pick us up at six. Sherri, my PR person, is sending someone over to do hair and makeup. Girl named Tasha, I’ve worked with her before, she’s really nice, and she’ll have a few gowns for you to choose from, too. We’ll get to the event at 6:45, do the whole red carpet thing, get our photos taken, blah, blah, blah, sit through a bunch of speeches, watch the movie, then Doug, the director, is hosting a party at his place. No press. Sound good?”

“Sounds nerve-wracking. How did you talk me into this again?”

“My famous charm. Plus I believe I begged.”

“Oh, right. Well, I should get you to beg more often. First class, hair and make-up, red carpets—you know how to impress a girl.”

He took a quick glance at her as he downshifted and turned off the freeway. “Joy, are you ... praising me? You feeling okay? Maybe you should lie down for a bit when we get home.”

She laughed. “I’m feeling great. I’m excited about this. I’m excited for you, really. And I’m honored you’ve asked me to come to the premier.”

His eyes were back on the road, but she could see the grin spread over his face. “The honor’s all mine.”

Tasha was a petite woman in her mid-twenties with cocoa-colored skin and perfectly styled ringlets of dark brown hair. She looked nothing like Tracie, but her calm, cheery attitude reminded Joy of her nonetheless and helped put her at ease.

She was really a makeup artist who knew Chris from his sitcom days but she had enough experience in hair and wardrobe that she was able to provide a solid one-stop-shop experience for Joy. She offered several dresses for Joy to choose from, apologizing that they were all last year’s styles, and Joy laughed. They were all new to her—and much more glamorous than anything she’d ever worn before. She selected an emerald-green silk dress that reminded her of a classic Hollywood film. It left one shoulder bare, tastefully showing off the creamy skin of her cleavage and hugging her curves at the waist before falling into elegant folds all the way to her feet.

“Perfect! Chris sent me your photo, and I thought this would be a good color for you. Looks like I was right.” Tasha sounded very pleased with herself.

Joy was a bit stunned by the entire process. She had always thought she did a nice job with her own hair and make up, but Tasha had taken them to an entirely new level. No Muffy hair tonight; Tasha had somehow styled her hair into a simple but sophisticated chignon that left a couple of artful curls trailing from the nape of her neck.

“Are you sure the makeup isn’t a bit much?” she asked hesitantly, looking at her face in the mirror. She didn’t want to offend Tasha, but aside from being on stage, she’d never worn this much. The effect was ... dramatic.

Tasha laughed. “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but this is anything-goes makeup. It’ll stand up to flashbulbs, champagne, nervous sweat, and exactly one passionate kiss.” Tasha winked at her in the mirror. “I don’t make any guarantees beyond that.”

Joy smiled and admired herself. Her eyes looked larger, her lips fuller, her skin seemed to glow. With Tasha’s help, she wiggled into the dress along with a pair of three-inch green sandals that Tasha had brought.

“What do you think?”

Tasha contemplated her. “Chris isn’t shallow enough to judge a woman just on what she looks like,” she said, “but if he were, he’d propose on the spot.”

Joy laughed. “I’m not as worried about Chris as I am about the press.” Chris, she knew, would accept her whatever she looked like. It was the internet and the tabloids she worried about. She didn’t want to embarrass him.

Tasha waved her hand disparagingly. “Pfft. You look great. Just go in with that beautiful, big smile of yours and you’ll do great. You okay in those heels?”

The heels were on the higher side of what she normally wore, but they worked. “I think I’m good,” she said, standing up.

“All right. Let’s show you off.”

Tasha skipped ahead of her and led her to the living room where Chris was waiting. “Ta da!”

Joy had been pleased with the way she looked in the mirror, but the look on Chris’s face was a boost of pure confidence.

“You look amazing,” he said in a low voice.

“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” she replied.

Standing casually by the living room window in a tailored tux, Chris exuded a relaxed self-assurance, looking every bit the movie star.

Chris checked his watch. “Thanks for all your help, Tash. I guess we’re ready.”

Tasha apparently thought otherwise. “Not with that hair you’re not,” she said. “C’mere.”

Chris rolled his eyes but followed her obediently into the guest room. He reemerged a few minutes later, his hair set in short spikes that waved to one side. Gelled or not, Joy thought he looked good either way, but she couldn’t deny that Tasha had given him a rakish air that suited his Crusaders role.

“Are we good?” he tilted his head toward Tasha.

“My work here is done!” Tasha dusted her hands off. “You don’t even need to be home by midnight. Chris, just get the dress back to me or Sherri sometime next week.”

“Should I get it cleaned or anything?” he asked.

“Nah. I have a cleaner that I use who specializes in fancy things. Your job now is to just have a great time. Let me go pack up my stuff and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Join us for a glass of champagne?” Chris asked.

Tasha shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got a hot date of my own, and I need to get back.” She collected her things, gave Chris a kiss on the cheek and gave Joy a light hug, careful not to mess up her hair or makeup, then waved a cheery goodbye and was gone.

Chris swept Joy with an appreciative glance. “There will be a lot of beautiful women there tonight, but the most beautiful one will be with me.”

Joy blushed. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be the envy of all those other women.”

Before she knew it, they were in the limo and being swept toward downtown LA. Joy knew she should feel nervous, but something about being with Chris put her at ease. His confidence and relaxed grace were contagious. He entertained her with stories about the cast members she’d be meeting and some of the funny things that had happened on set, and before she knew it, they were pulling up to the theater.

She gulped as the limo pulled up to the theater and she saw throngs of people held back by cordons. Chris leaned over and smiled, squeezing her hand. “Just smile and relax. We’ll have to talk to a few reporters on the way down, but it’ll just be fluffy stuff. Smile and go with it.”

Chris got out first and helped her out. He waved casually at the crowd behind the barriers and held out his arm. She took it, smiling, as flashbulbs began to go off and the crowd roared their excitement at seeing Chris McPherson.

“Chris, autograph my bra!” screamed a pretty girl toward the front, lifting her shirt to show off the bra in question. Chris gave her a friendly smile and a wave but otherwise ignored her. They’d gone only a few steps when a pretty blonde reporter stepped up with a microphone and said hello, giving her name as Marina McFarland of an entertainment show that Joy had never heard of.

Chris stopped and inclined his head graciously. “Good evening, Marina.”

“Chris, we’ve watched you go from sitcoms to Galactic Crusaders. Is it safe to say your career is taking off tonight?” asked Marina, tilting her microphone toward him.

Chris grinned. “Galactic Crusaders was a collective effort of a lot of talented people,” he answered. “I think it’s going to kick off a lot of great careers. It’s a wonderful film that’s going to be entertaining people for years.”

“Chris, there’s already talk of a sequel—is that something you’re looking forward to?”

Chris grinned again. “If there’s a sequel, I’d like nothing better than to be involved, but right now, I want to focus on getting this one off to the start it deserves.”

“Of course!” Marina flashed her overly white teeth. “Chris, before I let you go, will you introduce us to your lovely companion?”

“Absolutely.” Chris smiled down at Joy, who couldn’t help smiling back at him. “My date tonight is Joy Albright. I’ve known Joy since we acted in a community theater group together thirteen years ago. It’s safe to say that she was instrumental in getting me to where I am now.”

He gave her hand an invisible squeeze as he looked at her, and Joy felt a glow spread over her face.

“Joy, it’s so great that you could be here with Chris tonight,” Marina chirped. “Now, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I know our viewers are going to want to know—is Chris off the market?”

She tilted the microphone toward Joy’s face, simultaneously raising her eyebrows suggestively. Joy, unsure how to reply, felt her smile freeze up. To her relief, Chris leaned in.

“Now, Marina,” he said with the same flirty smile, “You know I don’t talk about my private life. Suffice it to say that I consider myself extremely lucky that this beautiful woman agreed to be my date tonight. Now, I see Vanessa is right behind me. We all know she’s the real star of the movie, and I know you’re going to want to talk to her, so let me get out of your way. It was great talking to you.”

He gave Marina a friendly wave with his free hand while pulling firmly on Joy with his other one. To her relief, Marina didn’t pursue them as they continued down the red carpet and through the door. Her relief was short-lived however; the lobby was thronged with people and reporters, and she was instantly overwhelmed with the sound of cameras clicking and flashbulbs going off like strobe lights.

“Just keep that gorgeous smile on your face for a few more minutes. We’ll be through this soon,” he whispered.

She tried to look as if Hollywood premiers were an everyday event for her. A blond woman of indeterminate age appeared out of nowhere and began angling Chris toward the sponsor backgrounds. “A few just of you and a few with your lovely date,” she said, giving Joy a knowing look.

“Oh, I don’t need to be in any of these,” Joy demurred.

“Sure you do,” said the woman with a smile that brooked no argument.

“Joy, meet Sherri, my boss-I-mean-publicist. Sherri, this is Joy. She’s working with me on that community theater project I told you about.”

“Which is why I want her in some of those pictures, you cheeky boy. We’re turning you into someone who cares about his hometown, remember?”

Joy wanted to thank her for setting up the makeover and the dress, but before she could, Sherri was shoving them firmly in front of a backdrop advertising a popular brand of snack food. Joy smiled into the face of the cameras as Chris waved. After a moment, Sherri tugged on her arm and led her off, letting Chris have a moment alone with the press. He grinned and waved for another minute or two then stepped off.

“All right, we’ve done our time.” He hooked Joy’s arm into his again. “Now we get to go relax.”

Sherri waved them off and turned her attention to Vanessa Swink and her date who were right behind them. Joy tried to get a better look at Vanessa, but was left only with the impression that she was surprisingly short before Chris directed her into the theater and they were shown to their seats. After a few minutes, the doors closed. The director and the producer made speeches then finally, the lights dimmed and the film began.

Although big budget blockbusters weren’t usually her thing, Joy enjoyed the movie immensely. It was funny, with plenty of slapstick and snappy one-liners, but there was also a romantic poignancy to it that had her blinking back tears at the climax of the movie.

When the house lights went up again, Chris looked at her. “What did you think?”

To her surprise, she detected a little anxiety in his voice. “I loved it,” she whispered back reassuringly, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze. “It’s going to be a huge hit, I know it. And you are totally worthy of bringing Marlon Brando coffee.”

He laughed and threw an arm around her in a bearish half-hug. “After party at Doug’s house? No press, I promise. Should be fun.”

“Let’s go!” she said brightly.