One month later
Shoving down the first strains of panic, I climb out of the limo and wave to the fans standing around the street. Lana ushers me along inside the tented walkways toward the reporters for interviews. I’d rather cut off my own ear right now than listen to their questions, but I know that isn’t how the game is played. So, I bolster my courage and plaster on a fake smile, licking my teeth to make sure there’s no blood red lipstick on them before I step up to the long line of photographers.
“Stella, over here!”
“Stella, to the right.”
“Show us that gorgeous smile.” A thousand flashes go off, and a hundred voices all clamor alongside them, but one question comes out a little louder than the rest. “Stella, where’s Van Ross tonight?”
My smile falters, and I glance at Lana waiting off to the side. Her head snaps up from her phone. Typically, photographers don’t ask questions unless it’s, “Can we have a shot without your date?” The questions come later when you enter the snake pit full of reporters looking to get the scoop, so I’m momentarily stunned. I’m also furious. This is supposed to be my night.
Likely emboldened by his peer, another cameraman asks if Van and I are dating. One more asks if Van’s meeting me inside and ditching the red carpet altogether. I glance at Lana again, who’s shaking her head as if to tell me not to respond, but I can’t let this go. If I do, there’s going to be a hundred magazine covers tomorrow morning fresh off the presses with my forlorn-looking face on it. Instead, I straighten, plaster on that smile I’ve gotten so good at faking, and say, “My guess is that he’s handing the Philadelphia Flyers their asses on the ice. Of course, he and I aren’t dating, so you’d have to ask him.”
I give the photographers all one final toothy grin and walk away, even though I’m supposed to stop at intervals along the carpet for the next ten minutes. Once we head inside the tent, E! News is up first. Those people have been good to me, so though I don’t feel like answering more questions about Van damn Ross, I head over and do my bit.
“We are back, and look who’s just joined us on the red carpet? It’s country’s sweetheart, Stella Hart.” The host leans in, her huge lollipop head almost colliding with mine as we air-kiss. “So good to see you this evening.”
“Hi, how y’all doin’?” I give the camera a little wave.
“You look stunning. Who are you wearing, Stella?”
“Oh, thank you so much. This is from LaBourjoisie.”
“Absolutely gorgeous. And you’re up for five nominations tonight.”
I nod. “I am.”
“What’s that like? I mean, you’ve been at this game so long. I have to wonder when they announce the nominees, is it ever just, ‘Oh, there’s another one?’”
“No,” I say with a laugh. “No, it’s really an honor. I mean every time you see your name on that list you pinch yourself, you know? I think when you start to expect it, maybe that’s when you need to go back to your roots and evaluate why you’re here.”
“Is that what you did in Banff, Alberta? Reevaluated why you were here?”
My grin slips. “Something like that.”
“And let’s talk about Van Ross. I mean, hockey players. Girls, can I get an amen?” she says to the camera. “But seriously, what’s it like to spend several weeks hiding out with hockey hunk Van Ross in his Rocky Mountain home?”
I give a nervous laugh because if I don’t, I’ll likely start crying. “It was an experience.”
“So, any plans for the future? Will you be heading back to Canada anytime soon?”
“No. Van is just a friend, and he and I are right where we need to be.”
“Those Canadians are pretty friendly, huh? I mean, I saw those pictures of him completely naked. How you stay just friends with that is beyond me.”
“Well, he’s a hockey player, so I think they’re pretty used to baring all.”
“There you have it, boys. Stella Hart is still single.”
I give an awkward smile. “Sure am.”
“What about Logan? I noticed he’s not here tonight, do you have anything you’d like to tell us on the subject, or something you’d like to say specifically to women who’ve gone through an abusive relationship?”
“Er . . . I can’t comment on anything in relation to Logan and that situation, but I just want to say that I’m so grateful to everyone for reaching out to me to show their support.”
“Well, thanks for joining us, Stella. Have a great night, and good luck.”
“Thank you so much.” I smile and walk away. I can’t even wait for the outro, and as I take several steps toward Lana, she glares at the reporter.
“That was not okay.”
The reporter’s thin painted mouth twists in a frown. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re gonna be,” Lana says, “I’ll be chatting to your boss. This is the last interview we’ll do with E!”
There are still several other reporters to talk to, but I can’t. I’m two damn seconds away from bursting into tears, and having the whole world witness it. It’s one thing to lie to him, to the reporters, and the world, but I can’t lie to myself. I’m crazy in love with him. I’m so far gone there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it because dating Van Ross is the absolute worst thing for my career, or so I keep hearing. He’s a hockey player, for god’s sake, and I can’t date a man who’ll sleep with anything that moves. No matter how much I might want him, no matter how much I might love him, I can’t be with Van Ross. But I can’t seem to forget him either, and therein lies the problem.
I’m head over heels for a hockey hunk who’s bound to break my heart, even though he’s in another country. This is why I don’t let people in—because I’m better off on my own.