Elise Gilmore
I blink as my eyes adjust to the onslaught of flashes coming from the press lined up alongside the red carpet.
Hayden closes the limo door behind me and steps in close, the comforting scent of his cologne enveloping me as he places my hand around his arm. “Ready?”
I look up at him, wide-eyed. It’s all so overwhelming. Besides the flashes, the photographers are constantly calling out Look this way! or asking Can we get one of you with such-and-such? and people are everywhere.
“You’re doing great, Sierra,” he whispers in my ear as we walk toward the beginning of the red carpet to join the actors and other notable guests waiting their turn. When the last person in front of us—some sort of celebrity influencer, I think—walks in front of the first set of cameras, I’m gripped with a wave of panic.
“Does my dress look okay? I hope I didn’t ruin it during the ride.” I hear the anxiety in my voice and take a few deep breaths, eyes pinned on my best friend. Hayden’s gaze sweeps down my dress, a slight tinge of pink coloring his cheeks, probably from the hot air lingering in L.A. this evening.
“Sierra. You look amazing.” He gives me a soft smile. “You always do.”
My cheeks heat, and my heart flutters in my chest. I fan myself, hoping it will cool down my face, and remind myself this is all for show. I’m just helping Hayden shake a slightly crazed fan by pretending to be his girlfriend for a few weeks, including here at this awards show.
“What about me? Anything out of place?” He does a slow spin. I take this moment to admire how good he looks in his tux. When he’s facing me again, he flashes me a look that could only be compared to The Smolder from Tangled, and I can’t help but giggle at his antics.
“You’re up, Mr. James.” The coordinator gestures to the first of three sets of photographers.
Hayden squeezes my hand. “You’ll join me in just a second, okay?”
I nod. While I’m waiting, I run my hands over the chic designer dress. I smooth out a few wrinkles and adjust the neckline, grateful Hayden’s stylist could secure it for me to wear, since my closet holds primarily jeans and T-shirts.
“It’s your turn, Ms. Quinn.”
Hayden walks over and takes my hand again, leading me to the same spot he was occupying a second ago. He stands between me and the cameras for a moment. “Just relax and smile. Remember your college graduation?” He winks before taking his place beside me.
A smile breaks out on my face as the cameras flash. Hayden had told me he couldn’t make it to the ceremony, and I had completely understood. Movie productions, I’d learned, were precisely timed projects, often with little flexibility. But somehow, he’d managed to surprise me. I couldn’t stop smiling through commencement, dinner, and the dessert he’d insisted we get to celebrate before he flew back to L.A.
Before I know it, we’re done taking turns smiling for the camera and have entered the press junket line. Thankfully, I’m not expected to say much here since the reporters will be focused on Hayden. I just have to smile and nod, looking like the adoring girlfriend, which is easy considering I’ve had feelings for Hayden for years. I’d never gotten that vibe from him, though, so I’ve kept them to myself.
We step up to the first reporter, and I smile and nod when Hayden introduces me to her, then watch as he lights up, answering questions about his next movie and the award he’s been nominated for tonight—best performance by a male actor in a motion picture. My mind begins to wander, remembering every moment with Hayden from the last few weeks. I knew the risks of pretending to date my best friend, especially one for whom I’ve harbored a long-time crush, but I thought I could keep it under control. However, between the cozy public date nights, constant hand-holding, and Hayden’s adoring looks—all for the paparazzi of course—my feelings have only grown.
When I hear the reporter mention my name, my attention snaps back to the present.
“Sierra, it must be amazing to be dating the Hayden James.” The reporter looks at him with flirty eyes.
Jealousy shoots through me, and I instinctively move closer.
“How did you two start dating?” she asks.
Hayden wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into his side. He looks down at me and kisses my forehead before responding. “We’ve been best friends for a long time . . .” He meets my eyes, and I wait for him to finish with the PR approved sentiment—and we’re seeing where things go. To my surprise, he says, “But I’ve been interested in more for quite some time.”
I stare up at him, stunned into silence. Is he still pretending? I study his face for a second and find only steady attention, no amusement or teasing at all. Hayden smiles and thanks the reporter before sweeping us past the other media outlets into the foyer of the venue. I’m desperate to know if he was telling the truth or not just now, but I keep quiet until he’s tucked us away in a dimly lit corner under a staircase.
“Hayden. That’s not the statement your PR rep approved.”
“I know.” He draws me closer, his eyes dipping to my lips. “But it’s what I’ve wanted to say for a few years now.”
“Really?”
“Sierra, I’d never lie to you.” His gaze sweeps over my face. “I know we agreed this was pretend, but I’ve never faked anything with you.”
Relief washes over me. It was all real.
“I haven’t been faking either,” I confess, as tears prick my eyes.
He whispers my name just before his lips capture mine, and then there’s no more pretending.
In addition to flash fiction and short stories, she is currently working on her first novel inspired by her love of dance and the summers she spent working at a camp on a barrier island off the Carolina coast.
She lives in South Carolina with her husband of fifteen years and their two boys. When she isn’t writing, you might find her homeschooling her kiddos, reading a good book, drinking tea or kombucha, obsessing about Pride and Prejudice, playing worship songs on the piano, or dancing around the house.
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