“You forgot the cape!”
Max touched her shoulder, still cloaked in velvet. “We’d better get this back, or the prop lady will have your head. Seriously, diva or not. She won’t care.”
“Diva?” Tzipi sputtered a laugh. “Is that what the fanboy thinks of me?”
She couldn’t tell, but Max may have been blushing under that ruddy beard of his. For the first time that night, he walked back his sarcasm.
“No, not at all.” His eyes, wide with sincerity, searched out hers. “You are incredibly generous. Gracious, and kind. I’m sorry.”
Her turn to blush. Taking credit for Kara’s qualities. Her sister was all those things, but so often people assumed she wasn’t. Couldn’t possibly be, due to the celebrity stratosphere she occupied. Tzipi was glad to hear Max saw Kara that way.
I just wish I could let him see me, she thought.
I wish I’d boarded the boat as me.
Not this bulletproof version, hiding in Kara’s wardrobe. She hadn’t been attracted to anyone since Lorne, hadn’t even wanted to put herself out there again. Until tonight. And Max. And now she wished a lot more things.
“I’m stuck.”
“Let me help you.”
The cape was a prop in all sense of the word. Just an excuse.
She took a deep breath, sweeping all the hair extensions to one shoulder. “I think the clasp of the cape is caught in the drape of my dress.”
She felt his warm exhale as he leaned in to examine the issue. “Yeah, it’s hooked through the mesh.” His fingers brushed her neck. “I don’t want to rip it, hang on.” She held her breath while he worked the snag free. “Got it.” The cowl of the gown fell back in place, tension eased.
“Let me run this back to the photo booth. There’s a green room right over there, if you need a minute.”
She did.
She needed to put a little distance between herself and this bodyguard that she’d wanted to kiss in that photobooth. Kiss and confess all to.
“Here, for warmth.” His tux jacket replaced the cape on her shoulders. “It’s pretty much yours now, anyway.” That low chuckle of his made her smile. “Be right back.”
She hugged herself with the sleeves as she made her way to the hospitality area. Funny, the green room had been where she’d pictured herself killing time on the party boat, all on her own. Yet this was the first time all night she’d used it.
“Hey, fancy meeting you here.”
“Robby, hi!” She hadn’t even noticed him in the hallway, she’d been so caught up in her thoughts.
“This is awkward, but…” His boyish grin turned sheepish as he played with the lanyard around his neck. “My pass apparently doesn’t open doors. But this VIP room had been open earlier, and I left all my belongings in there.”
Max had joked about the type of badge Robby wore, calling them “the participation trophies of backstage passes.” That basically they didn’t really mean anything, but they made people feel important.
“Oh, sure.” There was beeper thing on the wall, like the one Max used to get them up to the top deck to watch the menorah lighting. She tapped her wristband to it, relieved to see its green light flash and to hear the click of the lock disengaging. “He’s with me,” she said to the uniformed security guard, stationed at a discreet distance. The guy nodded.
Inside felt like every green room she’d ever been in – like the living room of a model house. Tasteful and welcoming, but zero personality.
Some catering laid out, an ample bar, and lots of couches. More fish bowls of the fancy gelt, in all colors of the rainbow. People milled about, small groups in their own private conversations.
At some events, the green room was the inner mecca. But honestly, based on all the sights, sounds, and tastes Max had toured her through on board tonight’s ship, the room paled in comparison.
“Thanks a million, sis.” Robby made a beeline for a couch. “Feels good to just chill for a moment, huh?”
Tzipi had to admit – it did. That was the saving grace of a green room: everyone was so into proving they deserved to be there that brushing shoulders with celebrities became an act of practiced indifference. People barely managed a hello as they murmured over their drinks, all casual cool and calculated charm.
She had done it herself on occasion, a time or two.
