And the Emmy Goes To

by artgalmd

A/R One-Shot of Lante. My inspiration out of my displeasure at DZ not being nominated.

And The Emmy Goes To...

Lulu Spencer dabbed the last bit of red lipstick on her face, smoothed her long blonde tresses in a chic ponytail and adjusted the top of her black strapless dress. The fabric hugged her curves, its black leather clinging to her body like a glove, the metallic sheen glistening under the light of her mirror.

She twirled, loving the way the material clung to her hips, simple, yet show-stopping. She glanced up at the clock one last time and glared into the mirror.

He said he would be here. He used to keep his promises, but lately he was just too busy. She heard the front door slam and heard the curse that escaped his lips, as he tripped over their dog. His dog. She'd wanted a cute little Pomeranian. He'd surprised her with a Chinese Shar-Pei. The dog was the biggest, beast she had ever seen, coming nearly to his knees and had the ugliest, wrinkled face with an over-sized nose and mouth. He looked just like her husband, she laughed. His surprise for her? She'd been shocked all right. Yogi, as he called him, had chewed through three of her best Victoria Secret underwear and if that wasn't enough, the dog slobbered on anything and everything. It had gotten to the point where she was afraid to touch anything in their apartment.

"You're late," she accused, not bothering to hide her smile, as he hopped on one foot, cringing in pain. She reached for her satin-ruched bag and clutched it tightly, "You know how important this is to me. I had hoped that you would accompany me."

"I have been filming for weeks. I'm exhausted. Just give me a break," he pleaded, his face painted grotesquely, his eyes red-rimmed, "Vampire Sucks Twice is going to be huge. I think bigger than the first. Wait until you see my scenes, baby."

"I don't have time. The awards show. Remember?" she shouted, smacking him on the shoulder with her purse, as she stomped toward the door. She grabbed her wrap and turned to face him, "I had hoped that you would want to join me," she said sadly, shaking her head, "Why we are still married is news to me?"

"Me too," he yelled, as she slammed the front door and he leaned his head against it.

"Yogi, promise me when you are out chasing all those other Shar-Pei's around the park, "Pick one whose bark doesn't make you want to jump in front of the closest car. Better yet, don't get married, " he said, roughing the dog's coat, as it released a loud and deep, woof.

"I knew you would agree. Us men have to stick together," he answered, shedding his clothes and walking nude toward the shower.

…...

"I'm Howie Camden, from Soaps on Fire and we are LIVE on the Red Carpet, he squeaked, his fifteen year-old voice trying to sound boisterous.

"Here comes another of our daytime celebrities. Let's see who it is? Shall we?" he cried out, waiting for the limo door to open.

"Ms. Spencer," the fans screamed, as she stepped from inside the long, black, stretch limo. The lights of the runway blinded her for a second, as she grabbed hold of the edge of the car and moved out into the limelight.

She smiled, her perfect, white teeth gleeming under the flashing lights of the cameras. She waved to her fans, then turned and waved to the others, before walking down the red carpet. She was soon intercepted by an eager reporter, who thrust his microphone in her face.

"Ms. Spencer, Howie Camden, Soaps On Fire, tell us how do you feel about being nominated this year? What are you wearing? Are you worried that Brook Lynn Ashton will take the award this year?" the skinny reporter asked, his forehead beaded with sweat.

"I'm wearing, Donatella Versace, of course. Now, Howie, you know that I hate to talk about my peers," she answered, attempting to keep the grimace off of her face. Brook Lynn Ashton was a tramp. No better than the vamp she played on television.

"Her character's plight has been a true roller coaster. Her battle with drug use, her struggle to maintain a singing career, her failed seduction of her childhood friend," the reporter told her, trying to convince her.

"Didn't she drug him?" Ms. Spencer laughed, turning to the crowd, "You wouldn't see Madison Monroe having to drug any of her men on Silicone Sunsets," she grinned, sticking it to her competitor, as the crowd of fans roared in agreement.

"No, Ms. Spencer, Madison certainly has the men of Silicone Sunsets wrapped around her finger. Speaking of men, where is your husband tonight?" the reporter asked, as Lulu Spencer smiled for the camera.

"My husband. Knowing him, he's still trying to figure out what tie to wear. Men," she laughed, spying her co-star, Maxie Jones, "You'll have to excuse me, Howie. I see a friend," she pointed, as she started to walk toward her.

"Nice dress, Ms. Spencer," Maxie told her, eye-balling the black leather, "Very rebel-like. I like."

"Thanks, Maxie, is that-"

"Vera Wang, it is," Maxie replied, as Lulu Spencer hugged her co-star and best friend, "Quick, save me from all of this," she begged, as Maxie Jones just shook her head and smiled.

"How do you get every reporter to love you, when you can't stand the sight of them?" Maxie grinned, as Lulu cringed as more reporters approached them, "They're coming. This way," she directed Maxie Jones, leading them toward the table set up for Silicone Sunsets.

"God, I need a glass of champagne," she commented, as a waiter walked by and she snatched one from his tray. She took a sip to calm her nerves. This was her third award ceremony and every one always felt like the first. Her hands were shaking and her stomach was in knots.

"Where is-"

"Don't ask. He showed up, as I was leaving Maxie. Can you believe it?" she said, taking another sip of her drink.

"I told you this would happen, Lulu Spencer. I gave your wedding six months and well, here we are at three and half. He's only spent a few weeks with you, Lulu," Maxie pointed out, as Lulu took a seat at the spot designated for her and her dearest friend in the world sat down beside her, "Spill, what did he do this time?"

"He's been filming. I never see him. It's like we aren't even married, Maxie. I don't know what to do?"

"You know what to do, Lulu Spencer. Do what Madison Monroe would do?" Maxie Jones answered, as Lulu Spencer rolled her eyes, "Maxie, I'm not my character. She may toss her skirts for every guy in Silicone Valley, but not me."

"Oh My God, Lulu. What's wrong with a little spice? A little jealousy. You'll never know until you try it," Maxie grinned. Her eyes drifted to her on-again, off-again flame, Mateo Rodrigo and she patted Lulu's knee, as she stood beside her, "Duty calls," she laughed, as Lulu Spencer rolled her eyes.

"Duty my ass, Maxie Jones. You're off to find the nearest coatroom, or closet. Keep your eye on your watch, Maxie Jones. You're up for supporting actress, " she reminded her friend. She truly envied her best friend's ability to throw caution to the wind and fling herself feet first into love. She'd been like that once. Before the marriage, before things like careers and egos got in the way.

She sighed, leaned back in her chair and assessed her competition, as the room filled with more and more of her peers, waiting for the awards to begin.

…...

Dante Falconeri hated everything to do with limos. The fancy length of the car, the rich upholstery, the chauffeur. The only good thing was the fully stocked bar, which he had filled not with champagne, but Bismark beers.

He would rather pull up in his 1968 red Ford Mustang, with its white-walled tires and pristine interior.

However, his agent insisted that while the car was an antique, he was sure to follow it in the industry if he showed up to the ceremony behind the wheel of that car. Dante Falconeri didn't much care for the finer things in life. He liked fast cars and even faster women. Well, at least the former. The latter had escaped him the minute he had laid eyes on his wife. She was like a breath of fresh air in his smoke-infused bachelor life. Not even a month after meeting her, they had found themselves in the middle of the Carribean, standing on a beach and professing their love and eternal faithfulness to each other, barefoot, with the help of a few Blue Margheritas and a justice of the peace named Roberto. Then, they were married, the rings on their fingers a sober reminder.

Dante ran his hand through his hair in frustration, his eyes betraying the angst that he felt over this travesty that he had created. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and exited the limo. Once outside, he greeted his adoring fans and revealed a genuine smile, his dimples appearing on cue. This he loved. The feeling that he got when he looked into the eyes of a fan and saw how truly happy he made them. It still amazed him how crazy they could get. He still got bazarre gifts in the mail. All sorts of hats and shirts, teddy bears and yes, even underwear. He closed his eyes for a second, grinning at the image. The latest pair of panties were pale pink with I love you, DF embroidered on them.

"Dante," he heard a woman shout from the crowd, "Who is Pirelli going to find to comfort him now that his highschool sweetheart is gone?"

"I'll volunteer," another yelled from the crowd, her barely there top bouncing up and down. There was a time in his life when he loved that attention, lived for it actually. But, that was before marriage. Before he awakened to the reality of being in a partnership, of having to rely on one another. He was still getting used to that idea. Of leaving behind the comforting feel of being solo, not counting on anyone but yourself, and replacing that with the knowledge that he was accountable to someone, that what he did affected another.

An eager beaver reporter raced up to him, almost nose-butting him with his microphone, "Mr. Falconeri, Howie, Soaps on Fire. You're up for your first lead actor role tonight as the heartthrob detective, Dominic Perelli on Brooklyn Nights, are you nervous? What are you wearing?"

"What am I wearing?" Dante grinned, pretending to check his underwear label, "Calvin Klein," he laughed, as the reporter stuttered, unsure how to answer.

"Well...Uh-"

"And no, I'm not nervous, Howie was it? This is what I do," Dante answered, smiling at the crowd, "Acting is my dream. My vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce. If I walk away with an award for doing it, well that's just the sprinkles on top."

"So it is. You're presenting for Best Supporting Younger Actor tonight. Any thoughts you'd like to share?" the reporter asked, thrusting his mic in Dante's face.

"I hope I don't trip," he answered, grinning, as the fans started laughing.

"Well, that is something NOT to do," the reporter replied, shaking his head, "Will your wife be seated beside you?"

"God, I should hope not," Dante answered, cringing at the thought. Her sharp tongue. He'd never make it through this ceremony.

"But, aren't the two of you-"

"Hey, don't look now, Howie, but isn't that James Franco?" Dante shouted, pointing behind the reporter.

"Where? I don't see-"

The reporter turned back to Dante Falconeri, but the actor had already departed, his feet having moved swiftly across the red carpet and behind the closed doors of the awards ceremony.

"Well, there you have it folks. The official start of this year's Afternoon of Love Emmy Show. The actors are taking their seats and the lights are about to dim. So, sit back and enjoy the show. I'll be right here with all of the latest scoops right after the awards. I'm Howie Camden, Soaps on Fire."

…...

"What do you mean she can't present with him?" Lulu Spencer said in outrage, absolutely stunned that they wanted her to present with him.

Dante Falconeri was the most arrogant man she had ever known. There was no way that she was going on that stage to present the award for Best Supporting Younger Actress, with him at her side. She was not going to do it.

"She'll do it," Maxie Jones answered for her, walking up to the table and adjusting her dress. She used her hand to press on Lulu Spencer's shoulder, nudging her into her seat.

"I can't, Maxie. I won't."

"You will. To turn it down is career suicide," Maxie told her, sitting down across from her.

"To stand up there," Lulu pointed to the stage, her eyes catching his at a table across the aisle, "Could be murder?" Lulu whispered, shocked to see Dante Falconeri wink back at her.

What an ass! He had a lot of nerve, she would give him that much.

"What's the problem anyway? It's not like-"

"What's the problem? I've told you why, Maxie. I can't," she answered, gritting her teeth.

"Has anyone told you how sexy you look when you're angry?" Dante asked, walking toward them and crouching before Lulu Spencer, "I just wanted to make sure that you were ok with presenting? You look upset."

"She's pissed at her husband," Maxie grinned, as Dante looked uncomfortable.

"Really? What did he do this time?" Dante replied, turning to Lulu Spencer, who looked ready to spit nails.

"He's an ass. That is top of the list. Do you want to know the hundred other reasons I'd like to skewer him at the moment. I can name them," Lulu said, glaring.

"Hey, ass pretty much says it all. Remind me not to get on your bad side, "Dante smiled, tweeking her nose, "Break a leg out there, will you?

"Don't trip on your feet up there, Falconeri. I'd hate for you to bruise your ass," Lulu answered with a grin.

"It would be worth every second for you to play, Nurse Nightingale, Lulu Spencer," Dante fired back, chuckling.

"I don't play a nurse. I'm a doctor, a cardiac surgeon, for crying out loud," Lulu yelled, as actors from other tables turned to stare.

"Ssh. You're making a scene," Dante laughed.

"I am not," she whispered, "You're...Well, you're just-"

"What?" Dante asked, smugly.

"An egomaniac who thinks he's God's gift to women. I got news for you, Falconeri. You're not! I can have any man in this room. What do you think about that?"

Dante Falconeri leaned closer, a gleam in his eyes, his hands tense at his side, as he moved toward her, his lips so close to her left ear that she could practically feel them press upon her lobe. She shivered, her lips parted in a sigh and her hands trembled. God she hated that he could do this.

"You know what gifts I have, Lulu Spencer. Give me a few minutes during the show's break and I'll remind you personally."

"Oh My God," Maxie Jones exclaimed, "The two of you are like watching Showtime. Any minute now, I expect the curtains in this room to burst into flame. For crying out loud, Lulu, find a coatroom!"

…...

Lulu sat at the table listening to the presenters go on and on about this person directing this and that person directing that, all while she seethed inside. Her ire was placed directly on the man that sat diagonal from her. His head turning toward the woman that sat by his side, every now and then, tilting backwards, as he released a laugh. Brook Lynn Ashton. Her nemesis. The bane of her existance. The twit actually thought she could act. Lulu Spencer's eyes grew wider, her heart pounding furiously within her chest, as she saw Brook Lynn's hand move toward Dante Falconeri's thigh. What the hell, she fumed, as Dante turned, his gaze catching her displeasure. He grinned. That cocky one that was reputed to curl a woman's toes and give her warm and fuzzy feelings in the pit of her stomach.

A presenter from Robin's Hood, the new Sci-Fi soap opera, stepped on stage and Lulu Spencer clapped her hands when others did, the presenter's words sounding like jibberish to her ears. Her jealous eyes were locked on Dante's thigh and one Brook Lynn Ashton's hand.

Lulu Spencer vaguely heard a few names mentioned on stage, the crowd quiet in anticipation, as they awaited the name of the winner.

They announced the name, just as Brook Lynn Ashton's hand moved higher, and Lulu Spencer had suddenly had enough, "Son of a bitch," she shouted, grasping her glass of champagne and standing in outrage, one hand pressed against her hip.

The room was quiet. The actress who was in mid-stride to receive her award, absolutely frozen and speechless. The room exploding with mumblings.

Lulu Spencer started to turn red, her face feeling warm to the touch as embarrassment set in, "Sorry," she explained, "Damn bug in my glass. Don't you hate when that happens," she said, quickly exiting the room.

"Are you kidding me? Did you just see that?" Brook Lynn Ashton commented at his side, as Dante brushed her hand from his thigh and sent her a look of reproach.

"You did that on purpose, Brook Lynn," Dante informed her, noting his disinterest with a scathing look.

"Oh, come on. It's not as if she didn't deserve it. Whose soap are you on anyway?"

The room was still murmering excitedly amongst themselves, as Dante Falconeri followed her, his determined stride moving swiftly to catch hers.

...

I will not cry. I will not cry, Lulu Spencer chanted to herself, while she paced back and forth outside the ballroom, her feet as soundless as a marching band on the carpet.

"I'm gonna kill him. I'm going to wrap my hands around that fucking neck of his and-"

"That bad?" Dante asked hesitently, as he snuck of behind her. He smiled, his dimples prominently displayed.

"Go away," Lulu told him, waving him off with a flick of her hand, "I'm plotting my husband's death."

"I'm sorry," he said, his hand stopping her pacing, as it rested upon her shoulder.

"Why? Everyone told me it wouldn't work. I didn't listen. I knew this wouldn't-"

"Dammit, Lulu. Since when do you listen to everyone else!" Dante fired back, placing his hands on his hips, "It's not your fault. Maybe I should-"

"You're right. It's not my fault, Dante. It's my fucking husband's!" she shouted, pushing her hand into his shoulder and knocking him back a few paces, "But, Maxie's right. To hell with him. He's too busy for me? I'm too busy for him," she emphasized, punching him in the shoulder.

"Ouch. What the hell, Lulu? This is not the time, nor the place, Lulu Spencer!" he whispered, his voice rising in anger.

"This is the perfect time AND place, Dante Falconeri! You're just too thick-headed-"

"I'm thick-headed?" he grew angrier by the second, backing her across the carpet and toward the wall, "You're stubborn."

"Brainless?" she taunted, as he reached for the coatroom door and turned the nob, "Cocky...and your seduction skills, well-."

"You love my skills, Lulu Spencer," Dante answered, his hand brushing against her side, moving upward toward her breasts. He heard the catch in her breath, saw the rise of her chest and heard the sigh released, as he pushed her inside the door and up against the coatroom wall.

"We're not doing this, Dante. It's not happening," Lulu Spencer told him, moving a fraction of an inch, as leaned against her. God he felt so good, she thought.

"You're husband is an insensitive jerk. You have every right to be angry with him, Lulu," he told her, one hand reaching for her thigh and wrapping it around his leg. He bent his knees slightly and lifted her, so that he could hit just the right spot. He heard her moan and knew that he had succeeded.

"He is insensitive," Lulu thought, biting her bottom lip, as he pressed against her.

"Help me out here, Lulu," Dante told her, his hands trying to push the leather to her waist, the dress molded so tightly to her that it was difficult to move. He released a frustrated moan of his own, as her hand brushed against him.

"I told you we're not-"

"I told you we were," he said, his lips settling on a spot directly below her ear, his teeth nibbling.

"I'm not Maxie," she reminded him, finding it hard to concentrate when he was so close. She heard the announcer over the intercom. Mm, she thought, as she moved closer to him, his lips pulling her ear into his mouth, the presenters for Supporting Younger Actor and Younger Actress in a Soap Opera.

"I'm well aware of whom I'm in a coatroom with, Lulu Spencer. Now, are we going to keep talking, or-"

Presenters? Shit. They were announcing their names.

"Dammit, Falconeri. We're supposed to be on-stage she told him, pressing against him, as he jumped back in alarm.

"Now?" he said looking down at his watch and muttering a few curse words.

"Yes, now. Oh My God. Do I look like someone that was just tossed in a coatroom?" she asked, trying to smooth her sleek ponytail and adjust her black leather mini-dress.

Dante thought she was the most gorgeous creature he'd ever seen. Her eyes were bright with passion, her lips, well, he wouldn't go there, "You look unbelieavable, Lulu. And you weren't tossed in a coatroom," he laughed, his tone turning serious, as his hands trailed a path down her neck and between her breasts.

"We're going to have to talk about this, Lulu," Dante whispered, his lips brushing hers, as he pulled her from the room and they walked toward the back entrance, where a security guard was frantically talking on his walkie-talkie.

"This?" Lulu asked him, not knowing if she really wanted the answer to her question.

"We're the presenters. She had an issue with her dress," Dante told the man, as he looked back at the two of them and shook his head, "Hurry. They were expecting you two minutes ago."

"This thing between us, Lulu. It's not going away," Dante told her, reaching for her hand and moving quickly alongside her, toward the stage.

A man slapped an envelope into Dante's hand, his glare revealing his displeasure at their tardiness, "You may not care about time schedules, but I do."

"Sorry," Lulu answered, as Dante pulled her toward the lights and they waited for the announcer to say their names.

"This thing isn't going anywhere, Dante," Lulu informed him, as the announcer started to speak.

He plays Dominic Pirelli, a sexy cop determined to take out crime in New York. She plays Madison Monroe, cardiac surgeon by day and illusive spy by night.

"Spy? Since when?" Dante asked, turning toward her.

"A few weeks ago. You were too busy to ask. I didn't think you needed to know," she answered, in a haughty tone.

"I want to know. I'm not too busy for you, Lesley Lu. I love-"

Here are Dante Falconeri and Lulu Spencer.

"You are TOO busy," she answered, her voice lower and laced with anger, "We barely see each other."

"I told you. I've been filming," he replied, a smile glued on his face, as they walked hand-in-hand and he winced as she squeezed his a bit too hard.

"Like I said, busy. Did you even miss me?" she smiled sweetly, the saccharine dripping from her lips, "Let's just get this over with."

"When we get out of here," Dante whispered, approaching the microphone, "I'm going to show you just how much I missed you. For hours, Lulu," Dante promised, as he turned toward the crowd of his peers and read from the teleprompter.

"I'm here to present the award for Best Younger Supporting Actor in a Soap Opera and she's here to...well, Lulu Spencer, why are you here? I thought I was doing this alone tonight," he chuckled reading the monitor.

"Hm. You would," Lulu Spencer answered, not reading the prompter, "In fact, Dante Falconeri does EVERYTHING alone," she insinuated, as the audience roared with laughter.

"THAT wasn't on the prompter," Dante smiled, whispering, his teeth gritted.

"So sue me," Lulu answered, as she leaned toward the microphone, "He's just upset because I look better than he does," she told them, grinning, as she placed her hands on her hips and arched her brow at him.

"I won't argue with that," Dante replied, slowly moving his eyes over her body, taking in every inch of her skin, with a possessive look, "Tell me, did you find that in the Hardware section, or Housewares?"

"This is Versace, you idiot!" Lulu shouted, looking down at his tuxedo, "Did your rented tux come with a six-pack of beer?"

"It's not rented," Dante yelled, "Now, if you don't mind, I think that they," he said, pointing to a mesmerized and equally shocked audience, "would like to hear our nominees."

"Fine," Lulu Spencer said, turning her back to him.

"Fine," Dante Falconeri continued, directing his attention to the monitor.

"And the nominees for Best Supporting Younger Actor in a Soap Opera are...Bradley Moore, Chester Bynes, One Hour at a Time.

"You're being impossible," Dante whispered, as Lulu Spencer started to read the prompter.

"Christopher Mangero, Tate Chance, Robin's Hood,"she smiled, "You're still an ass," she whispered under her breath.

"Better an ass, than a bitch," he answered, "Ronnie Marmo, Ronnie Dimestico, Brooklyn Nights."

Lulu stood open-jawed next to him, her eyes on fire, as she grabbed the envelope from him and tore it open, ferociously, "And the emmy goes to...Ronnie Marmo, Brooklyn Nights."

Dante Falconeri smiled, while his co-star practically leaped upon the stage and grabbed the emmy, one hand adjusting his johnson, while the other patted Dante on the back, "Easy, pal. She looks fit to be tied," he grinned, while moving toward Lulu Spencer and lifting her off the floor in a hug, "Don't give him an inch, sweetheart. Now where's that award."

"Yeah," Ronnie shouted, raising his award in the air, triumphantly, "I'd like to thank God first and foremost. He created this role for me and well, Godfrey Guzzatoni, I just wanted to say thanks. Don't listen to anything they say! You're great. No pink slips in your future, pal. I want to thank my family. My wife," Ronnie said searching the crowd, "Where the hell is she? Baby, you out there? My kids, love you babies," he shouted to the screen, "Now, get in bed. And last but certainly not least in my book," Ronnie Marmo said, clutching his crotch, "I'd like to thank my pal, Dante Falconeri, who if we had not met at that pizziera in Brooklyn would still be pulling pies at his Ma's pizzeria. Love you, pal," he said, as the music started to play, "And I LOVE all of you."

"You are the most vile, arrogant-"

"Easy, girl, you're still within earshot," Marmo reminded her, as she linked her arm with his and plastered a smile on her face for the audience's benefit, "And you still have to present the award for Supporting Younger Actress."

"And the nominees for Best Supporting Younger Actress in a Soap Opera are...Maxie Jones, Tara Hart, Silicone Sunsets."

"Annabeth Riley, Lisa Winters, One Hour at a Time," Dante read, his insides churning.

"Victoria Wright, Robin Sherwood, Robin's Hood," Lulu continued, "And the Emmy goes to..."

"Maxie Jones, Silicone Sunsets," Dante replied, with a grin.

Maxie Jones sauntered toward the stage, the peach Vera Wang dress, clinging to her slender body.

"Wow. This is so unexpected," Maxie said, pulling out two sheets of paper, "I love your work, Victoria. You were totally robbed. Maybe next year?" she said with a catty expression, hating the bitch from that other network. How she was even nominated escaped her. The process was bogus as far as she was concerned. A crap shoot.

"Give me that," Maxie said, kissing the statue, "I want to thank the fans. You guys are the best. You stood by me when my incompetent, stick-in-his ass agent, wouldn't. Take that, Phelpson. And to my family, well...I don't have any family, but you all know that. My best bud in the world, Lulu," she said turning to her right and smiling, "Thank you for sharing your messed up life with me and allowing me to use that to really understand my character's flaws. I couldn't have done it without you. You're all the f**king best," she shouted as the show bleeped her, "Rock on. Love you."

"My messed up life?" Lulu said, her ire turned toward Maxie Jones, "What the hell was that?"

"The truth," Maxie answered, frustrated with the both of them, "Just do me a favor and just do it already. I can't handle the tension in the room."

"I have no intention-"

"I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole, baby," Dante answered her, as she smirked back at him, "That's good. Since you seem to be LACKING in that department," she answered, glaring.

"Hey, hey, hey, public place, my friends. Holy cow, how long have you two been apart?"

"Almost four months," Lulu shouted, as they stepped off-stage, nose to nose with Dante.

"Not nearly long enough," Dante yelled back, his hands tightly fisted by his side.

"Well, ok, then. Hey, love to stay and sort this out with you, pals, but I have to go. Maxie, you coming?"

"Right behind you. Do us all a favor, find a coatroom!" Maxie belted, as she followed Marmo to the Green Room.

"What is it with coatrooms?" Lulu Spencer asked, as she shook her head to dispel the oncoming migraine.

"Spontaineity, baby. You should try it," Dante smiled, with a cocky grin, "We could-"

"Not in this lifetime. Why don't you find Brook Lynn, I'm sure she wouldn't have any problem adjusting your suit," Lulu said, angry.

"There is nothing going on between me and Brook Lynn, Lulu. She's my co-star. That's it. And to be honest with you, not for much longer," Dante shared, running his hand through his dark locks.

"What's that supposed to mean? Is she leaving?" Lulu questioned him, suddenly curious.

"I'm not supposed to say anything. I'll tell you later," Dante promised, placing his hand on her back and following her into the room, "Stop grinning. You look like you just won the lottery."

"Brook Lynn Ashton leaving Brooklyn Nights. Honey, that's the best news I've had all day."

"I didn't say that she was leaving-"

"No. You didn't have to, I can see it written on your face. The news is big. Huge," she smiled, practically jumping for joy.

"Sit down, before something tears on that dress and I find a sudden urge to get your coat," Dante ordered, pushing her into her chair and taking Maxie's seat beside her.

"Um..what are you doing?" she asked, as he leaned over and kissed her on her lips.

"Supporting you. You're up next, right baby?" Dante asked, moving his chair closer and placing his hand on her back, rubbing it up and down.

"They're all looking," Lulu Spencer said, glancing at the gawkers and then back to him.

"So? Let them," Dante grinned, placing a kiss on her bare shoulder.

"You ignore me for months, not a phone call, or even so much as an email-"

"I told you, Lulu. I was filming. The director-"

"I don't give a rat's ass about the director, Dante! I married you, not him," she shouted, standing and turning her back on him, "I miss you. That's it," she said, brushing the tears from her eyes and walking away.

She missed him, Dante thought, a slow smile spreading across his face. They had been fighting since they began this marriage. He'd begun to think that it a lost cause. That loving her was going to be the best and last thing he'd ever done. She missed him. Hell, that was a start. Question was did she still love him.

Dante Falconeri moved back to his table and sat in a chair next to his pal, Ronnie Marmo, "Can you believe they wouldn't let me keep it at my side," Marmo said, referring to his award, "They're holding it."

"Do you think I'm fighting a lost cause, Ronnie?" Dante asked him, his gaze locked on Lulu Spencer. She stood at the back of the room, conversing with Victoria from Robin's Hood, their looks heated. Dante wondered what they were talking about.

"Pal, love isn't easy. It takes work. In your case, a lot. What the hell were you thinking taking that film when you just got married? Four months, Dante. Hell, my wife would leave me."

"I needed this, Ronnie. For me, for my career and believe it or not, for Lulu. I had to know-"

"Know what, pal? How much your wife wants to put your head on a chopping block, or other parts I might add? No calls or emails? What gives?"

"The director didn't want-"

"Bullshit, Falconeri. This is your pal you're talking to, fess up. You got cold feet, didn't you? Most people get it BEFORE the wedding, but you too aren't exactly conventional."

"Fine. I got scared. Everything just came on so fast, Ronnie. Wanting her, needing her, MARRYING her. I got spooked, ok. Is that what you want to hear? Happy now."

"Ecstatic, pal. Admitting you have a problem is the first step," he grinned.

"This isn't some 12 step program I'm dealing with here, Marmo. It's my life," Dante said with a grimace.

"I know, pal. Love is grand, isn't it?"

…...

Lulu Spencer took her seat and glanced over at Victoria Wright. It couldn't be true. He wouldn't keep something like that from her, would he? She felt betrayed. An idiot. Stunned, really. How could he NOT tell her. It affected their lives, not just his. Tears were beginning to fill behind her eyes and she wiped her eyes with her hand, brushing them from her face.

"You all right, baby," Dante asked her, sitting in the chair beside her. The lights were beginning to dim and the actors were being beckoned toward their seats.

"My seat, Dante. Show's about to continue," Maxie said, standing behind him.

"Tell me, what's wrong?" Dante said, concern in his eyes.

"The show's about to start, Dante. Shouldn't you take your seat?" she answered, pointing toward his table.

"I want to talk," Dante said, refusing to move.

"You want to talk? Tell me, Dante, when you were deciding on moving on with your career, did you consider me...YOUR wife," she whispered, the tears falling faster.

"Victoria told you," Dante replied, frustrated that she had heard from someone else, "Baby, I was going to tell you. It wasn't supposed to be released yet. The only reason Victoria Wright knows is that she was in the room, baby."

"It's in New York. You're going to move there?" she said, hurt.

"The film is in New York, yes Lulu."

"Um, guys, not to interrupt this new little twist in the story of your pathetic, but really interesting lives...but the show is starting," she pointed as the presenters appeared on-stage.

"Fine. But, we are going to talk about this Lulu. Whether you like it, or not," Dante told her, with a determined expression, "Good luck with your nomination, baby. I know you'll get it."

"Hmpf," she muttered, "You too."

Her head was in a tunnel, her mind scanning over all of the possible scenarios when she heard the presenters say his name.

He'd won.

Dante won.

She watched him move toward the stage, his eyes glancing back toward her, smiling as he accepted the award from his peers.

"This is just amazing. Thanks so much. I can't believe that I get an award for doing something that I absolutely love. This journey has been so incredible...I have so many people to thank. I didn't write a speech, so I hope you don't take offense if I forget to mention you. First, I want to thank my Nonna, for being kind enough to mention that I was horrible at making pies and needed to find another career. Love you Nonna," Dante said, pointing his award at the ceiling, "My agent, you stood by me all this time, it's paid off, pal. My co-stars, you guys really are the best in the business. The fans, you really are amazing. I truly mean that. But, most of all, I want to thank my wife-"

Her. He wanted to thank her.

Lulu sat stunned, as all eyes moved in her direction.

"My wife? That's a tough thing to say. I've been alone for so long, that reminding myself that I have someone else that depends on me, well, it's taken me a few months to figure that out. She is the chocolate sauce to my vanilla ice cream, the happy jump in my step, she's everything. I'm hoping that she is willing to continue this journey with me, even if she married an ass. Thank you, baby. I really do love you," Dante told her, placing his hand against his lips and blowing her a kiss.

Lulu watched him turn toward the presenter and walk off-stage, her heart thumping in her chest. He told everyone in the room he loved her. He wanted this to work out.

"It's a lot to think about, huh?" Maxie told her, taking Lulu's hand and patting it reassuringly, "I'm going to miss you when you move to New York."

"What? When I move?" Lulu Spencer said, wiping her tears, as the ire started to build once more, "Why do I have to drop everything?"

"Lulu, you love him. And let's be frank, you haven't been happy with Silicone Sunsets for ages. It's time to move on."

"But, I don't want to leave-"

"You're scared. I get that. But, love's a risk, Lulu. You have to take the chance of getting hurt. But, if it works out, Lu...Girl, it is the greatest thing to ever happen to you."

"I want it to work out with Dante. I mean, I think he's the one," Lulu whispered, her voice becoming overcome with emotion.

"Then, don't let him get away, Lulu. Hold on tight. Just enjoy the ride," Maxie told her, with a grin.

"Enjoy the ride?" Lulu muttered, their life was a roller coaster, up and down, jarring her every nerve. That man did things to her that no other ever had. She was permanently branded by his touch, his heart.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered, as the reality of her situation kicked in. She lived in LA. He was accepting a role in New York. Was he expecting too much, asking her to give up everything for him? Well, he hadn't asked her, had he, she thought to herself. She had to find out from Victoria Wright.

"Lulu," Maxie whispered, as she nudged her in the side, "What?" Lulu answered, her mind somewhere else.

"It's your category."

The ladies vying for the award in our next category are no strangers to the business. One plays a vampy siren who would sleep with anything to get to the top, while another has men falling at her feet, literally whether it is on the operating table, or her target on her next mission. These two ladies have been sparring for years, but one has always landed on top. The nominees are..."

"Brook Lynn Ashton, Santana Folly on Brooklyn Nights."

(Scene on Brooklyn Nights)

I don't remember, Dominic. I swear. I would never lie to you. She's lying.

So, what's with the pills? You were plying me with alcohol. I wasn't with anyone but you, Santana.

I'm being set up, Domninic. You have to believe me. I would never drug you.

I have the proof in my hands, you evil, spiteful bitch. Now, you tell me what you are up to?

"Lulu Spencer, Madison Monroe, Silicone Sunsets."

(Scene on Silicone Sunsets)

I can't believe he's dead. He said that he was a school teacher. But, a murderer?

Madison Monroe couldn't believe it either, staring down at the body of her target.

Damn, this one was close. Too close, she thought, comforting the woman beside her.

I know, Chastity. I'm sorry. If there is anything that I can do-

What am I supposed to tell the kids? My family?

Do you think he knew who did it? That he saw it coming?

No, no Chastity. I don't think he saw it coming at all.

Madison Monroe smiled, confident that Dierks Broadway never saw the gun before it was too late and she had shot him.

We need to decide what to do about his heart.

"And the Emmy goes to..."

Lulu Spencer sat nervously, her hands entwined, her knees shaking. She looked to Dante for reassurance, his smile intoxicating.

"Lulu Spencer, Silicone Sunsets."

"Oh My God, I won," Lulu said, her hand to her mouth, as she stood. She was smiling as she walked toward the stage, stopping to shake the hands of her peers on her way.

"I can't believe this," she said, as she looked toward a defeated Brook Lynn Ashton, who looked peeved.

"This is amazing. I cannot tell you how much I have enjoyed playing Madison Monroe. She is crazy. I love every second of it," she paused, wiping her tears and looking at Dante, "I want to thank my fans and my family, my best friend, Maxie Jones. Girl, you are my compass. My agent, thank you for putting up with me for all of these years. My castmates, unbelieveable, every one of you. Lastly, my husband...for being there the last few months and helping me to make my decision. Thanks, honey," she said, raising her award in the air.

"Oh shit," she did not just say that, Maxie answered, as Ronnie came up beside her, "She did. I'm waiting for the freaking fireworks."

Decision. What decision? Dante Falconeri slowly rose from his seat and left the ballroom. He'd intercept her after she spoke with the reporters. She hated them. He knew it would be quick.

"What decision, Lulu?" Dante asked, taking her award and reaching for her hand.

"That's for me to know. Now, if you will excuse me," Lulu said, trying to move past him.

"No. I won't, Lulu. I don't give a damn about which soap wins and neither do you?" he told her, pulling her toward the back entrance.

"Get your hands off of me, Dante Falconeri! I'll scream," she threatened, as he dragged her to the coatroom.

"And risk all of the reporters rushing this way, I don't think so," Dante answered, ushering her inside the close-knit quarters.

He pushed her back against a fox mink fur, its texture teasing the naked skin of her back. His hands planted themselves on either side of her, pinning her, effectively eliminating any chance of retreat.

"What decision, Lulu?" he asked again.

"I'm not going," Lulu told him, looking down, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Why?" he whispered, his voice sounding broken, defeated.

"Why? Dante's it's obvious. You couldn't even pick up a phone while you were away. But, you expect me to risk my heart. To go with you."

"Is that what this is about? Your heart? Baby, it's safe with me. I love you," Dante assured her, leaning closer.

"Then, why didn't you call?" she cried, her fingers tracing the buttons of his tuxedo. She popped a few of the buttons, aching to see his muscular chest, the matte of brown hair upon it.

Dante gasped as her hand parted his shirt and reached inside, pressing against him. Just a touch from her fingers and he was a goner. His insides melting like wax.

"I called as often as I could. Your agent said that you were unavailable. The director took my cell phone when we arrived. Said no outside interruptions."

"He sounds horrible," Lulu told him, pulling his shirt from his chest and dropping it onto the floor.

"He was. Are you seducing me, Lulu Spencer?" Dante Falconeri asked, his hands resting on her hips.

"Uh-Uh," Lulu whispered, pressing a kiss upon his neck, as she reached for the trousers to his pants, "Your wife is."

Dante Falconeri was finding it hard to concentrate as his wife's hands were making quick work of the zipper to his pants and soon he found himself at quite the disadvantage, his breath catching in his throat as she clutched him within her hands.

"Baby, you have to help me with this dress," he said, reminding her that she was still fully clothed, as she dropped to her knees and shook her head in disagreement.

"Shit," he exclaimed, as she closed around him and he planted his hands more firmly against the wall. He groaned as her lips welcomed him, every brush of her skin causing his balls to tighten.

"Lulu, if you don't stop I'm going to-"

"Hm," she answered, her mouth full.

"Dammit," Dante shouted, his hands reaching for her shoulders and pulling her to her feet, "As much as I love you doing that. I have waited too damn long to be inside you," Dante told her, his lips finding hers, as his hands pulled at the bottom of her dress, moving the skintight leather slowly over her lips.

"Lulu?" Dante asked.

"Yes, Dante," she said softly, practically purring as his hands found her center.

"Next time we come to one of these shows, no leather. It takes too much time," he grimaced in frustration, trying to push the fabric over her hips.

"Why don't you try the zipper?" she suggested, as he sent her a look of vexation, "You didn't say anything earlier," he glared, turning her back to him and sliding the zipper down.

"You didn't ask," Lulu commented, as one finger, than two pushed inside her. The friction was incredible, her body salivating at his presence.

"Baby, I can't wait," he said, parting her folds and positioning himself. She screamed as he thrust deep inside, the force moving her up the wall. Dante captured her pleasure with his mouth, his hips continuing to pound inside of her.

"Wrap your legs around me, Lulu," he gasped, as he felt her body tightening around him. He was so close. She did what he asked and he groaned, moving deeper inside her.

"Dante," she cried out, her hands clinging to his neck, as she spiraled out of control, her body milking him. She collapsed against him, as he thrust quicker inside of her, shouting his rapture for her ears alone.

His hands remained alongside of her, slowly letting her slide her heels toward the ground. She was the sexiest woman he'd ever seen standing there, her body leaning on him, in nothing but her Jimmy Choo's.

"We need to do this more often," she laughed, pulling him toward the floor.

"We should probably-" Dante said, looking at the door and the coats that surrounded them.

Lulu peered toward the clock, "They'll announce the winner soon. We both know that it will be Brooklyn Nights and I for one know that our pal, Ronnie is famous for long speeches. So that gives us...well, long enough," she grinned, glancing down at his swollen member.

Twenty minutes later, when they were completely exhausted and helping each other dress, Dante looked into her eyes and asked his question once again, "What was your decision?"

"What do you think?" Lulu answered, pulling him down for a kiss.

"I missed you, wife, "Dante told her, breaking away from her kiss.

"I missed you, too, husband," Lulu said softly, brushing the tears from his eyes.

"I love you Mrs. Lesley Lu Falconeri."

"I love you, Dante Angelo Falconeri."