“Have my mother wear the same dress to three different red carpets?” He gasped melodramatically. “The tabloids would rake me over the coals.”
In fact, Sam had insisted his mother couldn’t be seen in the same outfit twice on any red carpet. The extravagant dresses went against Winnie’s penchant for frugality, but Riley liked to think she was getting used to him spoiling her. After a lifetime of penny-pinching to support four kids on her own, she deserved it.
Her delighted laugh as the crowd’s whoops and cheers rose reminded him why he did this. All around them, fans carried signs that read Marry Me, Riley! and in one case, Riley’s #1 Fan with an arrow pointing down to the placard carrier. His mother pointed out a little boy, maybe five or six years old, dressed up as Captain Jaxon Killian, and he obligingly went to shake the boy’s hand and take photos with the numerous fans crushed up against the barricade. The wall of sound and flesh was intimidating, but also kind of cool. This was by far the biggest premiere he’d ever been a part of.
“I remember when you used to dress up as Superman,” his mother said in his ear as they strolled down the carpet. “Now you really are a superhero. So much better than those other characters you played.”
“They were good roles, Mom.” The past three years had been great for his career, even if he had been working nonstop. He’d played a gritty ex-military mercenary with a burgeoning conscience in an early Christmas release last year, then a desperado cowboy out for revenge in May. Captain Jaxon Killian was definitely a lighter character, but it’d been one of the most difficult parts he’d ever taken on for its sheer physicality as well as the humor. Comedy wasn’t his forte.
“I’m glad to see you smiling more,” Winnie said.
They began the gauntlet of media interviews beneath the covered backdrop plastered with the Infinite Destinies logo—a corridor of carefully arranged reporters who asked the same questions again and again, questions he was obliged to answer in perfect sound bites with the same enthusiasm a hundred times over.
How did you prepare for the role?
How are you and Jaxon alike?
What was working with Juliette Travis like?
What’s next for you?
Who are you wearing?
While he gave interviews, his mother hovered in the background, smiling and stepping forward whenever a reporter asked how she was doing and if she was proud of her son. She showed off her dress and succinctly praised her talented son. Riley always made a note of the reporters who were kind to his mom.
It took a good fifteen minutes to get through the interviews before they entered another area, where he posed for photos against a sponsor backdrop. Later he would do more photos with the rest of the cast in the larger red carpet section outside the theater entrance, as well as meet special groups of fans—most of them from charity foundations—on a minor stage area. He didn’t mind doing those things. He didn’t even mind taking selfies or signing autographs. It was the autograph hounds and paparazzi he detested—the leeches who felt they had a God-given right to exploit him and infringe on his privacy.
Sam marched up, all five feet of her, in unassuming black, perched on deadly four-inch heels. Her dark hair was in its usual efficient French twist. The only adornment she allowed herself was the excitement brightening her eyes. She handed them each a bottle of water. “You two look stunning. How are things going? Did the interviews go all right?”
“They were fine. Mom?”
“An hour of strolling and smiling?” She rolled her eyes. “Please. I raised four children, you among them.”
“You’ll be out here maybe ten minutes more before you have to go inside. I’ve got to check in with Juliette, but we’ll be sure to take some pictures together.”
“How’s her agent doing?” Riley asked.
“Well, the surgery went all right, but it’ll be a slow recovery, so I’ll be doing a lot of his legwork over the next few months.” She blew out a breath. “Sorry I couldn’t wiggle out of babysitting her, but Juliette wouldn’t take anyone else. The agency caved to her demands.”
“They usually do.” Riley supposed it was easier than fighting one of their most demanding, top-earning clients, but it seemed unfair to split Sam’s attention, even if she was one of the best talent agents and managers in LA. “It’s nice to be recognized, right?”
Sam’s brittle laugh sounded slightly hysterical. “I’ve got to go. Winnie, you’ll make sure he behaves?” Sam often talked about her clients as though they were small children.
“Always have.”
Sam zoomed off. She might as well have been wearing the jet pack Captain Jaxon Killian used in the movie.
“I don’t see why you two can’t make your arrangement more personal,” his mother murmured.
Riley laughed. “She’s married to her job, Mom. Besides, we’re not compatible that way.”
She shrugged. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try. Not that I’m a matchmaker—my record isn’t exactly stellar on my own account...” The light in her eyes dimmed.
“Hey.” He cupped her cheeks tenderly. “Men would be breaking down the doors to date you if it weren’t for the fact that you intimidate them with your beauty and superior intellect.”
She gave a watery smile. He pecked her on the forehead and hugged her. The heat of a hundred flashbulbs seared his back as the media captured what should have been a private, tender moment between him and his mom.
“C’mon, let’s show you off.” He slung an arm around her shoulders and hustled her toward the wider common red carpet area.
Riley burst onto the floor, waving and blowing kisses, tugging his mom along and demanding his fans cheer for her, too. She brightened up significantly as the fans yelled thank-yous for raising him. Hamming it up was half fun and half work for Riley. He ran along the barrier, high-fiving fans. He was sweating beneath his tux by the time he joined the other cast members for photos.
Several times he turned to wave at the VIPs. Some of them were lucky folks who’d called in to radio contests, but he knew the bulk of them had paid someone under the table for the privilege of sitting on a hot, hard aluminum bench. This town made him crazy sometimes.
A flash of pink caught his eye, and his heart stopped. He squinted, seeking out that unique shade... No...no, he’d only imagined it. He turned back to face the cameras. It was the heat and all those flashes playing tricks with his eyes. He’d left Hawaii months ago, including all his best memories. Mom’s talk about settling down with someone must’ve just pinged some old, unwanted feelings.
Sam ushered him toward Juliette for photos. Combined with her dark red hair and creamy complexion, the pale sequined dress she wore reminded Riley of an albino boa constrictor.
“Congratulations,” he said, putting on his biggest grin. “You look nice.”
“And you,” she replied. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
He wound one arm around her slender waist and they turned to face the cameras. The sleeve of his jacket chafed against the scalelike sequins of her gown.
Working with Juliette had been excruciating—she’d been closed to him, barely interacting, but the director, Harlan Jones, had thought she was brilliant as the ice-cold military commander Captain Killian fell for in the film. Maybe Harlan had made the choice deliberately—the friction between them was palpable, and yet everyone said they simply “sizzled” on screen. Many believed the chemistry was real, and the tabloids touted that they were secretly dating. He supposed he should be proud of his acting skills.
“How about a kiss?” one of the photographers yelled. They were looking for a reenactment of the steamy zero-gravity