That Blue Gibson

CH 1

"What in the hell is going on out there?" Liz whispered, glancing at the hotel room door. 

Sarah shrugged, her eyes not leaving the lock of Liz's hair she had wrapped around a curling iron. "What do they call a cat fight, but with men?" she grinned.

"Dogfight doesn't seem right," Liz laughed.

"I don't think anyone ends up being right when men fight. Almost done!" Sarah said, gently shaking Liz's curls into romantic waves.

Liz took a deep breath and nervously pulled her phone from her robe pocket. She scrolled through the mass of texts and missed calls from friends and family, mostly asking what time she would be presenting tonight. Feeling her anxiety creep up her spine, she tossed the phone onto the plush bed beside her.

"You're going to be great tonight," Sarah squeezed Liz's shoulder while leaning over to grab the hairspray.

Liz could only manage a weak smile. The argument in the hallway had suddenly ceased and the front door to the hotel suite slammed shut.

"Mark! What the hell was that all about?" Liz asked as her manager appeared in the suite's bedroom doorway. He shook his head in frustration while furiously tapping a text out on his phone screen.

"Silva wants you at his party tonight, but you're booked at the RCA thing."

"All done," Sarah whispered, trying not to interrupt.

Liz's attention snapped back to the mirror and admired the magic Sarah created on her hair.

"Perfect as usual. Thank you!" Liz stood and hugged her friend as tightly as she could bear.

"Thank you for the résumé boost!" Sarah laughed. "I can finally open my own salon with a Grammy style to brag about!"

"And the Oscars in a couple weeks," Mark mumbled, still focused on his phone.

Liz reluctantly released Sarah and turned to the garment bag hanging on the suite's bathroom door.

"Need help?" Sarah offered as she packed up her things.

"Maybe just with the zipper."

*

An hour later, Liz was waiting in the hotel bar cradling a beer in both hands, trying to ignore the stares of the other bar patrons. Wear the blue Zac Posen she remembered her stylist, Josephine, insisting. The dress was dark blue silk with a fitted bodice and a deep slit up her right leg. She felt like a massive neon light was above her head screaming "FAMOUS PERSON, PLEASE STARE AND JUDGE HARSHLY".

"Any decisions made on the party?" Liz asked.

Mark finished his scotch and shook his head. "Silva really wants you at his."

"He sounded pissed," Liz replied, the sound of the music manager's gruff yelling flooding her memory.

Mark laughed, "That's just his voice. The car's here, off we go!"

He led Liz out of the bar and into the massive lobby where her security fell in line behind them. She glanced over her shoulder at Travis, who was obsessively scanning the marble-floored room filled with people. They met eyes briefly and he offered her a reassuring smile before stopping beside her as they waited for the doorman to let them through.

"Please don't stray more than a few feet, Travis. I'm in this one alone," Liz whispered. She had meant to sound lighthearted, but her pleading eyes gave her away.

"No more than three feet. Or however long that train is," he glanced behind them at the trail of midnight blue silk expertly sewn into Liz's gown. He helped Liz maneuver out of the large gilded hotel door and into the brisk early February air. Camera flashes and screams erupted from the waiting crowd as Liz hustled to the waiting SUV. Just as she set her right foot into the backseat, a tiny figure in a pirate costume caught her eye. She pulled back abruptly causing Travis to dodge the skirt of her gown.

"Two minutes," Liz said to him as she hurried over to the little girl waiting in the cold. He only nodded and held up two fingers to the driver.

"Hello!" Liz said brightly as she kneeled onto the filthy LA sidewalk.

The little girl, who couldn't have been any older than five, immediately eyed the blue silk between them. "Annie, where's your boots?" she asked, suspicious of this frock her favorite pirate was wearing.

"Ah," Liz whispered conspiratorially and leaned closer. "'m in disguise, lass!" She laid on her most famous character's Scottish accent, swallowing a laugh as the little girl's eyes grew wider and wider.

"Will Captain Jack be there?" she whispered back, glaring at the crowd fighting to get a shot of Liz interacting with her fans.

"Perhaps...," Liz winked and allowed herself to laugh a little.

The little girl gasped and clapped her hands.

"I'll be sure to tell him you said hello!" Liz said as she slowly stood from the concrete, turning to the girl's parents stood behind the girl clutching their cell phones.

"Would she like a picture?" Liz asked the bewildered couple.

"Yes she would!" the little girl cried, snapping her parents out of their stupor.

A few photos and a hug later, Liz was tucked into the back of the SUV and on her way to the Grammy Awards. She flipped through the presenter packet Mark had given her, committing her call time, stage placement and lines to memory. Before she knew it, the SUV eased to a stop in front of a massive white tent. Travis hopped out of the front seat and held the back door for Mark and Liz to step out. The screams of the crowds of fans and press made Liz's heart jump.

"Three feet," Travis assured her and offered her his arm.

"We're booked at Silva's party," Mark yelled over his shoulder before disappearing into a crowd of suits and dresses inside the tent.

Liz glanced over at Travis, who shrugged. "Maybe Metallica with be there," he said as they walked onto the red carpet.