Forcing myself not to get lost in wanting something I couldn’t readily have, I focused on what would come next. I’d already checked and double-checked my makeup in the limo, so I knew all of that was in place. Although I’d spent hours in the suite at the Four Seasons being primped for this moment, my makeup and hair were fairly simple. A cat eye with soft eye shadow, a bit of blush, some highlighter, and an amazing red lipstick I’d been assured would last until I took it off with a special oil-based remover.
I smoothed a hand over my hair, nodding when I felt the soft curls falling just below my shoulders like they should. I’d chosen not to wear a necklace—no need with the plunging neckline. My only bling was an opal and diamond bracelet I’d borrowed from Gloria, and only after she insisted. Like every other nominated actress on the red carpet, I’d been offered Harry Winston jewels, but that wasn’t something I was interested in. The possibility of losing something so valuable would only have caused more anxiety.
I counted to three and then stepped all the way into view. As I lifted my chin, a round of applause went up from the bleachers that lined the carpet. I smiled brightly as I waved just as Dane’s assistant had instructed. Hundreds of camera flashes went off around me, preserving the moment for eternity. While I waved, Gloria got out of the limo directly behind mine and came to stand at my side. The second she came into view, the crowd—both the people in the stands and the horde of assembled reporters from around the world—went wild. They started screaming questions at us in an instant.
“Morgan! Gloria! Look over here!”
“Who are you wearing?”
“Morgan, care to tell us who your mystery man is?”
“Gloria, do you know who it is?”
Neither of us responded to those particular questions as we smiled and posed. The Oscars red carpet wasn’t known for paparazzi hounding actors, so I knew those questions would be shut down fast. In less than forty seconds, they moved—right after someone from the shows production team appeared and had a few brief words with them. After that, the questions went back to normal.
“Do either of you have speeches prepared?”
“Over here, over here!”
“Smile!”
“Do you feel lucky tonight?”
I smiled and nodded as Dane came around the back of the limo Gloria had been in and took his spot between the two of us.
“Dane! Are you nervous for Gloria?”
He smiled and waved, ignoring the question as he turned his head to me. “You good?” he asked under his breath.
I answered without moving my lips. “Yep.”
He turned away and said something to Gloria that I couldn’t hear over the noise. Dane had more than a dozen clients walking the carpet tonight, and he could have gone with any one of them. But even super agents were loyal to their moms, so he was with Gloria and me.
I was relieved to be walking the carpet with them since both knew what they were doing. Even though it was all kind of rinse, lather, repeat—going from one reporter to another so they could ask you the same series of questions (what are you wearing, did you have a hard time picking the dress, are you nervous, did you eat today, do you have a speech, etc.)—the whole thing was overwhelming. People watching would think the carpet was glamorous, but it was a lot of work. In addition to the three of us, and Allie, Gloria and Dane’s assistants were also walking ahead of us. Just behind us was the bodyguard who had been assigned to protect the fortune in Harry Winston jewels Gloria was wearing.
The only stop that was truly enjoyable came when we got to Vaughn Corbett. I was excited to do my first interview with him since he hadn’t been at the Golden Globes. Vaughn was known to be an incredible interviewer, so I was surprised that for the first thirty seconds or so after we’d walked up the stairs to his platform, he’d sputtered and had trouble focusing.
Once he got on track, he charmed Gloria and me with questions we hadn’t already heard nine thousand times. Because of this, he managed to get us to relax. This was partially due to his personality, but I’m pretty sure the glasses of champagne he provided helped.
Garrett and Shaelyn were just in front of us in the press line so they’d been able to join us for the second half of the Vaughn interview. After that, we walked the rest of the carpet together and did almost a dozen more small interviews together.
Once it was all wrapped up—and after what felt like seven hundred trillion photos were taken—we were finally free to go into the theater. By the time we arrived at our front row seats, I felt like I’d run twenty miles. The four-inch heels on the Jimmy Choo Lucy embroidered lace d'Orsay shoes I was wearing felt torturous. I cursed the shoe gods and wondered, not for the first time, why heels couldn’t be as comfortable as they were beautiful. I couldn’t keep myself from imagining how great it was going to be later to put on my sweatpants and my well-worn pair of UGG slippers.