Gianna – Three Years Later
“And that’s a wrap!” My director, Harris, yelled loudly. “Great job, everybody!”
The cast and crew burst into applause, turning to me and blowing kisses. I flushed as I waved at all of them.
“This isn’t just about me,” I said with a touch of self-consciousness. “It’s about all of you!”
My co-star, Linda, came up to me and laughed. “No way,” she said. “Gianna, if it hadn’t been for you, this picture never would’ve been made.”
Harris nodded. “She’s right,” he said. “I never would’ve gotten funding for this if you hadn’t agreed to work on the project.”
I glowed with pride. “That means the world to me, really,” I said. “But it was such a rewarding experience.”
Harris laughed. “And maybe next time, I can make your pay grade,” he said, shaking his head.
“But for now, I guess you’re going back to those big pictures, huh?”
I shrugged and blushed. “I don’t know, honestly,” I said. “This was a lot more fun than working on some big-budget action picture. I really feel like we’re all a family, just from working together.”
Harris grinned. “I’ll quote you on that when you refuse me next time,” he said drily.
In the dressing room, I changed quickly into the gown I’d had my agent send over. The shooting for the indie film I’d just wrapped had taken a lot longer than I’d expected, and now I didn’t even have time to go home and greet Barnes before heading to Hollywood’s biggest award ceremony, the Film Board Awards. My agent had sent a perfect dress – eggplant-colored silk that clung to my slender frame and made my pale skin look rosy against the copper of my hair. Two assistants helped me with the gown, and I twisted my hair into a low chignon before grabbing my clutch and walking out to the waiting limousine.
To my surprise, the back door opened and Barnes grinned at me from the inside. “I thought you might like a drink on the way to the awards,” he said with a smirk. There were two flutes of French champagne in his hand, and he passed one over. We clinked glasses and then drank.
“I can’t believe my wife is going to be an award winner,” Barnes said. He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I doubt it,” I said. “Jenny Brigham is going to win. Everyone loved her performance in that movie about the teacher who works with those poor kids.”
Barnes laughed. “That picture was a blatant grab for an award,” he said. “And it might win the best picture, but you’re going to win best actress.”
I flushed. “Coming from you, that means a lot,” I said softly.
In the three years that had passed since our second wedding, Barnes and I had really come into our own as Hollywood stars. He’d become one of the most successful directors in California, after directing a trilogy of romantic-drama films that had set a huge trend in filmmaking. And not to brag, I hadn’t done too poorly, either. After six months of working on Heaven Cove, I’d been picked up by a major studio and asked to star in a romantic comedy. That had been the most fun I’d ever had, and I’d gotten on so well with the director that he’d asked me to come back for two sequels. Tonight, I was up for a different award – my role starring as a single mother in a movie about what it really means to have a community around children. Personally, I’d found working on the picture to be pretty dull, but as Barnes would say, it had been total award-bait, and I knew that even if I didn’t wind the Film Board award, I’d still receive a lot of varied offers when it came to my next project.
The Film Board Awards were being held at a beautiful hotel in downtown Los Angeles. As our limo waited in queue for the red carpet, I reached over and squeezed Barnes’s hand.
“I love you,” I said breathlessly.
“Nervous?” Barnes raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Gianna. You’re going to win by a landslide.”
I flushed. “I hope so,” I said. “I really do.”
Barnes chuckled. “We’ve really made it,” he said in a low voice. He leaned over and kissed me.
“And I couldn’t be prouder. You make me so happy.”
“You make me happy, too,” I said. “I never thought I could be so happy.”
Our limo inched forward, and I looked out the window, hoping that we were next in line.
“Have you heard from your parents?”
I wrinkled my nose. “No,” I said. “But I did hear from Diane – she’s in college now, in Vermont. She’s really happy.”
Barnes nodded. “Good,” he said. “When she’s done, maybe she can come out here like she always wanted.”
I rolled my eyes. “I love Diane, but she’s turned into a totally different person,” I replied. “If she came out here, she’d never shut up about how we’re all capitalist pigs who love material possessions and money and killing the environment.”
Barnes laughed. “Sounds like she’s really come into her own, then,” he replied.
I nodded. “Oh, she definitely has,” I said. “Trust me on that.”
Our limo rolled to a stop, and the doors were flung open by smiling young men in tuxedos. I didn’t even have to fake a smile – I was so excited and happy that I grinned on my own as I climbed out of the limo, waving to my screaming fans. Barnes followed right behind with his hand in mine. As we walked inside, I felt a huge rush of nervousness wash over me. An usher showed us to our seats, and I looked around the arena, awe-struck. This wasn’t my first time at an awards ceremony, but it was my first time as a nominee, and I couldn’t believe how much different it felt. I felt like instead of being one of the crowd, I was finally one of the special people – one of the people whom everyone admires and envies.
But deep down, I knew that wasn’t because of my looks, or even my acting abilities.
It was because of the wonderful man at my side, who loved me unconditionally.
When the awards started, I leaned back in my seat and waited anxiously. They went through a whole slew of winners before getting to the acting awards, and it was almost three hours later that I began to tense up once again.
When Tony Romero, a famous singer, stepped on stage, I knew the time had come. He grinned as he walked over to the podium.
“Tonight, I’m here to announce the Film Board Award’s Best Actress,” he said, mugging into the microphone with a bright white smile. “And while it was tough – very tough – the board had a clear winner.”
Barnes reached for my hand and squeezed. “This is it,” he whispered into my ear. “This is your moment!”
“The winner of this year’s Film Board Best Actress goes to…Gianna DiFaba!”
For a moment, I felt as if my heart had stopped. Then Barnes yanked my hand and grinned. Mechanically, I got out of my seat and walked on stage. Tony shook my hand, then leaned in to kiss my cheek as he handed me the small golden trophy.
“I’d like to thank so many people,” I said. “Everyone who has helped me – and everyone who has tolerated my primadonna behavior!”
The audience laughed.
“But most of all, I’d like to thank my husband, Barnes Harrington,” I said. “Because without him, I never could have done it. I feel like the happiest woman in the world.”
The audience clapped and cheered.
“And it’s with mixed feelings that I announce my intent to retire from the screen, just for a while,” I said, staring right at Barnes and smiling. “Because I’d like to start a family with my husband, and I want to make sure that our children grow up with a loving mother who is always there.”
Barnes’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?” He mouthed towards me.
I grinned and nodded, not wanting to let the audience in on our private moment. Warmth spread through my body. Finally, a family with Barnes! I thought happily. I couldn’t wait to get back to my seat to kiss my husband…and to talk about potential baby names.
“Yes,” I said into the microphone as the crowd – and Barnes – went wild. “I am a truly, truly blessed woman.”
As the crowd applauded me off stage, I knew that I’d finally found my perfect fairy-tale prince.
The End