Page 125 of Eleanor & Grey
Greyson must’ve noticed, and he placed his hand on my knee, squeezing it lightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there the whole time to get you through it.”
And just like that, I was taken back to when he was a teenager escorting me to my first dance, telling me everything would be OK. It was funny how memories came so quickly to leave impressions on one’s heart.
I smiled and nodded, trying to ignore my wild thoughts.
“What about you, Shay? Are you comfortable with walking the red carpet with us?”
Shay laughed, shaking her head. “Greyson, I’ve been pretending to walk the red carpet since I was two years old. This is history in the making. I was born for this.”
She wasn’t lying. When we were kids, she’d dress up in my aunt’s heels and walk back and forth, posing as if the paparazzi were following her everywhere. This was Shay’s dream come true.
As we pulled up to the venue, everything looked make-believe. There were dozens upon dozens of people walking the long red carpet. Flashes of light popped up everywhere, and the amount of security was beyond insane. There was a fence to keep the public from getting too close to the celebrities, andoh my gosh I am going to vomit. Right there, in front of all those cameras, I was going to freaking vomit.
Greyson squeezed my knee again, and I pretended it didn’t make every inch of me melt into his touch.
“OK, ladies, ready? It’s showtime,” he said as the door of the limo was opened. He stepped out first, then reached for Shay’s hand. He helped her out of the vehicle, and then he reached for me next.
My body was trembling.
My forehead was sweating, and I was really angry at myselffor not wearing extrastrength deodorant. Just when I was about to fall apart, just when I was about to dash away and break into an awkward run, Greyson’s hand landed on my lower back. He leaned to whisper against my ear. “Don’t worry, Ellie. I got you. And also—” he pulled back a little and locked eyes with me “—you look beyond beautiful tonight.”
Chills.
Chills all across my body.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready,” I replied.
As ready as I would ever be.
Greyson linked one of his arms with Shay’s and the other with mine as we walked to the red carpet. We posed in place every so often as cameras flashed. I was certain my smile was awful. I was positive that my knees were buckling. I knew when I saw the images online the next day, I’d be mortified, but Greyson kept holding me up so I didn’t try to run away.
“Mr.East! Mr.East! Over here!” a reporter shouted.
“No, over here, Mr.East!” someone screamed.
“Who are the ladies with you tonight?” another asked.
“Two old high school friends,” Greyson commented with a smile.
Yup, that was me, just an old buddy of a really successful man. Honestly, I hadn’t realized how successful Greyson was until that moment right there.
“Does it feel weird being here without your wife? How are you dealing with her death?” another reporter asked.
“How are you coping with the loss? Is that why these two women are your arm candy?”
I felt Greyson tense up, but he kept that smile of his in place. He thanked them for their time, and we walked off the carpet toward the party.
“That was freaking rude,” I hissed, annoyed with the carelessness of the reporters.
Once we made it inside, Greyson released our arms and gave me a small smile with a slight shrug. “Just a part of the job.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous. You know, if you want, I can go kick their asses for you. I’ve been doing Pilates, and I’m really building up my strength,” I remarked.
Greyson smiled as we walked into the room. “Or we can just forget them and take shots of the new whiskey,” he said as a tray of them was presented in front of us. Greyson pointed out the different types. “This one is cinnamon flavored, this one is apple, and this one is kind of like a citrusy thing. You have to try all three. It’s the rule,” he said.
Well, bottoms up.
