Six months earlier, that possibility would have occupied the rest of my evening.
Now I sat beside Ellie and watched the next award.
At the hotel after the ceremony, the trophy stood on the table beside an open bottle of champagne.
Ellie sat barefoot on the bed wearing my dressing gown and examining the room-service menu.
“You won a major award,” she said. “Your hotel still charges thirty-two dollars for a sandwich.”
“Success has limitations.”
“We could order from somewhere else.”
“It’s midnight.”
“You live in New York. Food is the city’s primary infrastructure.”
“This sandwich includes artisanal pickles.”
“Do you like pickles?”
“No.”
“Then we are paying for hostile garnish.”
We ordered two sandwiches anyway.
While we waited, Ellie opened her phone.
The photographs were already everywhere.
The first showed us stepping out of the limousine.
The second showed my hand at her waist.
The third had captured the moment before I introduced her.
One headline read:
SAVANNAH BROOKS MAKES RED-CARPET DEBUT WITH GIRLFRIEND ELLIE PARKER
Another:
MEET ELLIE PARKER, THE DIVE INSTRUCTOR BESIDE SAVANNAH BROOKS
A third had chosen:
SAVANNAH BROOKS AND GIRLFRIEND SHARE SWEET RED-CARPET MOMENT
Ellie stared at it.
“Which moment was sweet?”
“Possibly when you threatened the shoes.”
“That was private.”
“There were two hundred cameras.”
