chapter
eighteen
jay
The limo nears at a snail's pace, wedged between the other cars like the stray chunk of iceberg lettuce I found in my salad last week. I smooth the lapels of my jacket. I should be in Florida, but this dark olive green tux and the instructions that came with it are the only communication I've had from Loren in almost two weeks.
With no idea what to expect, I take a deep breath and step into the warm LA night as the limo slides along the curb.
"Let me help you with that," the doorman says, reaching for my carryon. He walks it to the limo and stows it in the trunk while the driver opens the back door.
"
Jayyyyy!
" Ruby cheers as I duck inside. I lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek. She looks like she's straight from the roaring twenties with pin curls and a lace dress.
Everyone else looks good to but Loren looks--
He scoots over, making room for me. He's wearing the same dark olive tux that I have on. I'm careful not to touch him, careful not to take his hand in mine and squeeze it.
I lean in, mindful not to encroach on his space. "You look amazing."
Loren shifts in his seat and fidgets with his pants, smoothing them awkwardly. He glances at me. It's so quick I'm not sure he actually saw me.
This isn't good.
Corey looks at Isaac and scratches the back of his neck. Cole stares at Loren, trying to catch his eye. Ruby, who had been excited, is now staring as she spins the champagne glass in her hand.
"Everyone excited?"
They look up and nod, but no one says anything.
There's a palpable relief when we pull up to the event. Everyone's pressed to the door, waiting to escape. I'm worried they'll fall out.
Loren is leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring out the back, maybe. I don't think he's actually looking at anything, just trying not to look at me.
It's been two weeks. The silence between us has reached critical mass. "I--" but the door opens and the paparazzi begin snapping pictures, the multiple flashes almost blinding. After exiting the limo, I stretch out my hand. He can be mad at me all he wants, but we're at a big event. The one thing he can't do is ignore me.
Loren gets out of the car with the biggest, sexiest smirk, like he hasn't been avoiding eye contact with me since I got in. His hair is done up nicely; a soft Hollywood look that brings out his chocolate eyes. He waves, then adjusts his suit, posing for photos.
He attempts to pull his hand away, but I hold tight as I smile and pose alongside him.
"This is insane," I say while smiling for the cameras. "I had no clue this would be so big."
Loren shifts. A new pose, a new angle. "It's a wonder I made it here--" he says behind a smile, "--with no parents and all."
Internally, I roll my eyes. Externally, I smile and go for the
cute-boyfriend-ear-whisper
pose. "That's not what I said."
He dutifully reacts to the crowd, looking at me with a 'genuine' smile, almost bashful.
How-dare-you-whisper-sweet-nothings.
"If you say so."
I slide my arm around his waist and smile for another picture. "Did you invite me here so you can give me the cold shoulder? Or will we talk before I fly back to Florida?"
Loren ignores me and leans towards one of the journalists. "What was that?" he asks.
"I was wondering what Jay is most proud of you for?"
"You'll have to ask him."
I put my arm around his waist and pull him flush against me. "His ability to balance the complexity of Loe vs. Loren. He moves between the two worlds so seamlessly. I think he's one of the few people who stays within the boundaries that he creates. It's a hard thing for anyone to balance, especially someone as busy as Loren."
Loren smiles. I'm not sure if it's genuine or for the cameras. Who knows, maybe it's both? I keep him next to me as we inch our way closer to the finish line. He doesn't fight it, and after a little while, he begins to lean into it.
Towards the end of the red carpet, Loren pulls me to the banquet hall until we're seated at our table with everyone else. Cole slides a couple of drinks our way just as the lights dim.
I'm used to football awards where I know what the hell is going on. This is over my head. They're talking about people I've never heard of. The category is for fashion bloggers. Ruby leans in. "Joanna Speekle will win this one. She's newer on the scene but has amazing instinct. It seems like everything she recommends becomes the next big thing."
As Ruby predicted, Joanna Speekle wins.
The night keeps going. Award after award. Like the Oscars or Grammys always save the best for last, Influencer of the Year is the last category.
"They're all good candidates, but Loe has this," Ruby whispers.
I have no reason to think she's wrong. She's eerily spot on all night. "How is it quantified?"
"Followers, engagement ratios, content, originality. All things that Loe has in the bag. He's started more viral trends than anyone else."
If Loren thinks he's going to win, he doesn't show it. He listens intently to the presenter as they talk about each nominee while a photo montage plays in the background, highlighting all the nominees. I squeeze his knee.
The pair on stage make a show of opening the envelope while the cameras pan between the four nominees. Loren smiles and waves while everyone else looks like they're trying not to shat themselves.
"And the winner is..."
Loren leans forward and rests his chin on his fist. He's perfectly calm and composed.
"Berklee Taylor from berkleeonthefly!"
I panic. Loren was supposed to get it. Ruby said so. I'm not prepared for my role now that he didn't. I steel myself to pounce however Loren might need, but Loren doesn't need it. He's on his feet, smiling and clapping. The rest of the room follows suit, giving her a standing ovation.
On her way to accept the award, Berklee glides by our table and hugs Loren. Then she's off.
"Are you okay?" I ask quietly.
"Of course." When he realizes I don't believe him, he leans in. "Other people deserve to win, too. People like Berklee."
That's when I truly realize how genuine Loren is.
Loren's attention returns to the stage where Berklee is nervously trying to find words.
Corey looks at his watch. "They're running ahead of schedule. It's not supposed to end for another thirty minutes."
"Getting done early? That would be a change from every other year," Isaac chuckles. "Usually they go long."
"If we get out early, maybe we could grab food before I fly out?" I suggest.
Everyone looks at Loren. He shrugs, still not looking at me. "Maybe."
We stand and clap when she walks back to her seat. I haven't seen someone as happy as she is. I wonder what Loren looked like when he won the first time.
