“You do that.” Malcolm shook Chrystelle’s hand, then he and Frances moved across the carpet to their waiting limousine.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” Quint touched Chrystelle’s elbow and guided her to the curb where Jerry waited outside their limo.
“Are you kidding? I never thought I’d experience a night like this. What about you? You’re not sorry you invited me, are you?” She worried her lower lip between her teeth. He could’ve spent the evening with any of the beautiful stars they spoke to tonight. Did Quint regret not inviting one of them?
“I’m glad you came, and so are my parents.” He looked at her with an intensity that was markedly disquieting.
Breathe in, breathe out. It was that or drool over this handsome man. She briefly looked back at the theatre that had given her a magical night.
“I can’t believe I met America’s Sweetheart and Hollywood’s most famous producer, not to mention all the other famous people.” Her head was spinning from memories she’d keep in her heart when she was an old woman knitting by the fireplace.
Quint turned her to face him and trailed his fingers from her shoulders to her elbows. “You, Chrystelle, are an absolute delight.”
She looked into smoldering blue eyes that made her knees turn to water. Never had she thought she’d stare into Quinton Fairchild’s eyes. Her pulse raced. She was troubled by the intensity in his gaze, for it affected her beyond comprehension.
“How can you say that? I’m dumbstruck by famous people.” Her body was deluged with warm tingling. “These are your friends, and you see them every day. I’m being corny.” She wanted to cry. She was such a dork! The people she’d met tonight were just that—people, but they amazed her with their talent and the way they seemed genuinely glad to meet her. She’d never, ever forget she met them.
“You’re not corny.” He pulled her close.
She could feel his heat, his touch soothing and soft. Waves of desire coursed through her. As Quint’s head dipped toward hers, her lips parted, and her stomach dropped. She had only enough time to utter a soft gasp before he folded her into his arms and pressed his warm lips against hers.
It was a long time before he loosened his embrace. Her mind was a muddled mess of the events of the day. This morning, she’d worn a chauffeur’s uniform and been Quint’s driver. She now stood in the arms of the most handsome man she’d ever met, her hair and makeup perfect and wearing a gown that would make an amusement park princess look dowdy. How had everything changed?
“You looked like you needed to be kissed.” He lifted a stray strand of hair from her cheek and smoothed it to the side of her head. It was a touch filled with gentleness and compassion.
“I didn’t mean to look that way.” She could barely speak.
“I’m glad you did, but it looks like our evening is over.” He looked at the theatre landing.
The media and crowds had left. A few guests stood in front of the entrance conversing with one another. Others bid Quint and Chrystelle good night and climbed into their waiting limousines.
“This has been the most memorable night of my life, thanks to you,” she murmured, and her eyes filled.
“No tears.” He touched a knuckle to her chin. “I’m glad I could contribute, but I can hardly take credit for this.” She loved the sparkle in his eyes.
“Are you kidding? You invited me to an awards dinner. I had the time of my life.” She looked around. “Is it midnight? I think my coach is about to turn into a pumpkin and my dress into a chauffeur’s uniform.” She pulled her phone from the rhinestone-studded evening bag the studio’s wardrobe department had lent her for the ceremony.
“Who are you calling?” A frown flickered between his brows.
“Transportation. I need to get a ride home. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll have the dress dry-cleaned and I’ll return it to wardrobe in a couple of days. I can ride the bus tomorrow morning to pick up my chauffeur uniform and other things.”
“You can put your phone away.” His mouth twitched. “This limousine stays a limousine. You don’t need to call for a ride. You don’t need to dry-clean the evening gown. Our wardrobe staff has a cleaner on-site. Anything that needs to be done, they’ll take care of it. I pay them well, and they never disappoint. What is your address? I’ll tell Jerry, and we’ll take you home.”
“Oh, no.” Her heart could barely beat from the panic filling her chest. “I couldn’t possibly impose upon you further.”
“You aren’t imposing at all.” His expression turned curious.
She felt a blush coming and dropped her gaze. “But I need to return the limo I left at your studio.” A shiver of alarm raced through her, and she touched fingers to her forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. With so much happening today, our discussion about the script and then the awards ceremony … I have to return it to the service.” She looked at Quint but Mr. Lowery’s beet-red face flashed in her mind.
“Your limo has already been returned to Mr. Lowery.” He laced his fingers through hers, a soothing touch that eased the pressure in her chest.
“Now I’ve imposed on you more than ever, and I owe you big-time.” She couldn’t believe his kindness toward her and wondered why. What successful Hollywood producer would help a lowly chauffeur?
He’d done so much for her. He discussed her script with her, though they hadn’t finished, but he said they’d continue the meeting, then there was the studio lot tour followed by the makeover.
“It was I who imposed on you,” he said. “You agreed to accompany me to the ceremony tonight and keep me in my mother’s good graces, which is why it would be my pleasure to escort you home. It may be late, but you can still get a few hours of sleep.”
“It isn’t as if I will sleep.” She slid into the limousine and sank into the plush upholstery. “This has been the most exciting night of my life. And I thought prom was wonderful.”
“You must tell me about your prom night, but first give me your address.”
When she did, he frowned. “I’ve heard about that area.”
“It isn’t bad.” The area frequently made the news because of gang violence. Thankfully, that hadn’t happened in her neighborhood, and she’d made some great friends. “It’s near a few studios so when I get a temp job at one of them, I can walk.”
“That’s looking at things in a positive light.” He smiled and relayed the address to Jerry.
Half an hour later, the limousine cruised down a street crowded with parked cars and trash cans.
“I’ll escort you to your front door,” Quint said.
“You don’t have to. It’s a third-floor walk-up.” She and her roommates would grumble about the climb especially after working double shifts, which made the hike seem farther.
“I think I can manage a few steps. You’re not walking to the door by yourself.” Quint’s voice was low and firm.
His protective nature made her insides melt, and she looked away. Remember, this is just for tonight, the warning flashed in her head.
Jerry opened the car door and helped them from the luxurious interior.