Chapter Three
Three Months Later
Amelia
"Ms. London," the show’s producer called, pulling me out of my own thoughts.
"Yes?" I asked, turning in my chair. The man doing my makeup never bothered to stop for a moment.
"You're on in five."
"Thank you," I responded with a smile before turning back to face the mirror. You’d think I would get used to my face being like this. But I couldn't do my own makeup to save my life. Years of having stylists would do that to a person. "Wow."
"You like?" He grinned with pride. "I know you have your own people—"
"No, it's amazing!” I assured him. “Thank you so much."
"Oh, thank God. I thought you were quiet because you hated it," he laughed awkwardly.
My resting bitch face strikes again.
"No, I'm just nervous," I laughed.
His mouth dropped open. "You? You're nervous?"
"Yeah, I always get nervous right before I do an interview—or anything else."
"I don't believe it."
No one does. People sometimes forget we are human. Who is naturally comfortable speaking to millions of people?
"Well, it's true. This is it, right?" I asked waving my hand over my face. He nodded, helping me take off the paper towel around my neck.
"Umm, I know you must get this all the time, but do you mind?" he asked, holding up his camera.
"Ms. London, is—"
I waved my hand over at Austin, cutting him off. “It's okay, Austin. How else will the world know who is responsible for this face?"
Austin was completely different from Oliver. He never really said anything until he needed to. He was always just in the background, watching carefully. Sometimes I would even forget he was there. But what I couldn’t deny was the fact that he got his job done. Anything I wanted—hell, I didn’t even have to ask for things I wanted. He already had them set up. Like this late-night talk show with Sammy Graham.
“Okay,” the stylist said, smiling as he leaned in next to me and took a selfie. Seeing the red light flash, I stood up. Austin looked me over and then nodded, opening the backstage door for me. It was funny—no matter what city I was in, the backstage of the studio always looked the same. People chattered jargon into microphones and ran around like chickens. It never failed to amuse me.
I walked to edge of the stage, watching as Sammy finished his intro for me. "Now if you don't know our next guest, then you've just probably invented the wheel. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Amelia London!"
I took a deep breath before walking out and waving to the crowd as I made my way to Sammy. We hugged for a moment before I sat down, crossing my legs.
"Welcome!" he said once again, and the crowd just kept applauding.
"I love you, Amelia!" some guy yelled.
"Aww, thank you! I love you all, too!" I said, laughing.
"Wow," Sammy said, looking out to his crowd. "Why don't I ever get a welcoming like that?"
"You mean they don't clap for you? Don't you have one of those 'Applause' signs?" I joked.
"I did until they found out you were coming, and their excitement just blew it up."