Everyone in America knew the story: Late-twentysomething breakout actor slips away from his entourage to spend a day being normal, meets a decidedly non-dramatic, un-Hollywood girl who isn't particularly impressed by his celebrity, and falls head over heels for her. Brady Koles (born Bradley Matthew Koslovik) went on to tell Vanity Fair about how real and down-to-earth his girlfriend Cindy was, and from the moment the issue hit newsstands, Brindy had unquestionably usurped the title of It Couple from every other item in young Hollywood. Dick had followed the magazine stories with fascination; he couldn't go to a drugstore without flipping through every celebrity magazine to see Mac, done up like a doll, on the arm of her very own Ken.
"So, I see the baby bump patrol is going to be disappointed," he said, gesturing to her wine glass.
"You read the tabloids?" Mac said, eyebrow arched.
"Every once in a while," he admitted. "But I think everyone not living under a rock has seen that one picture."
"With the red cardigan," Mac said with a nod. "Yeah, that was a food baby."
"What'd you eat?" Dick said.
"Ah, I was actually smuggling Brady some chalupas. He's got to lose all this weight for his next role in this post-apocalyptic doomsday film, and his nutritionist won't let him near fast food. In retrospect it probably would have been smarter to just carry a bag that day."
Dick laughed and Mac studied him with her own smile on her face.
"Have you seen Madison yet?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Think they're out in the gardens still, taking pictures. I skipped the ceremony. If I want to witness people weeping and talking about endless love, I'll turn to Lifetime or visit Ronnie and Logan."
"I'm surprised you didn't convince Logan to come be your wingman," she said.
"Nah, he won't come near Madison if you paid him to. Believe me, I tried. But as far as other Neptune alums go, I heard Shelly Pomroy's maid of honor. That's about it I think. Poor showing from the class of '06, huh? Funny to think everyone thought they were going to be so much richer and famous by now, and you and me are really the only ones who made the cut."
"Who would have thought?" Mac sipped her wine and took a deep breath. "Well," she said.
Dick interrupted before she could move away. "So why are you here?" he asked.
She frowned, confused. "I thought it was obvious," she said. "I mean, my invitation was already checked 'plus one' when I got it."
The corner of Dick's mouth jerked up in amusement at Madison's transparent motives. "No," he said, "I meant, why did you come? I thought you would have immediately sent your regrets."
"Oh," she said, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. "Well, I was going to, but Madison's mom called me and said she'd really like for me to come."
Dick opened his mouth, eminently confused, but Mac cut him off. "It's a long story, maybe I'll tell you sometime. Anyway, I'll let you mingle. Talk to you later!"
She was halfway across the room before he managed a "Hey!" She didn't turn around, and Dick slumped into the nearest chair, probably wrinkling his tux but not really caring.
Watching her weave through the crowd with those same quick steps, until her long dress swished out of sight, he couldn't help but thinking of the one magazine picture he'd saved of her. In most of the magazine blurbs ("Get shiny hair like Cindy's," or "Cindy's secret to clear skin"), she was perfectly done up, a perpetual smile on her youthful face. The picture he'd kept was a rare entry of her in the candid "Stars: they're just like us!" section, where they photographed celebrities walking their dogs or buying groceries. In it, her usually über-private boyfriend was walking toward his car, newspaper in one hand, the other raised in a half-hearted wave. Mac trailed behind him, her eyes unfocused and a slight, thoughtful frown on her face. Despite her trendy hair ("Should you get heavy bangs like Cindy's?"), she was wearing a t-shirt and an unzipped sweatshirt, and jeans that Dick thought probably dated back to Neptune High. He wasn't sure why he'd torn it out of Us Weekly and invoked the wrath of the convenience store clerk, except that he thought it was one of the only ones he'd seen that actually looked like her.
He was roused from his thoughts by the emcee inviting everyone to take their seats for the bridal party's entrance. He found his table and looked around for Mac's purple dress, without any luck. He did see Sam's black-clad figure heading his way, and before she could launch an inquisition he headed for the bathroom, exiting through a side door as the bridal party entered through another with much fanfare.
He took his time in the bathroom, straightening his clothing and making sure his hair looked presentable. It was shorter than he'd kept it in college, and currently brushed to one side for the Businessman and Serious Adult look he'd been sporting lately. He pulled out his phone and texted Logan: "Mac's here. Hollywood's been good to her."
Seconds later, a reply popped up. "V says be nice and have fun and don't get in trouble."
He rolled his eyes and shoved his phone into his jacket pocket. He headed back for the ballroom and stopped short when he saw Mac at the end of the hallway, standing quietly watching the festivities. He studied her carefully. Her hair was loosely curled, something he never would have seen in high school or college. He could see that she stood a little taller now, and although she looked beautiful, she looked older and less naive. When he thought about it though, he was sure the same could be said for him-probably moreso, since she started off more cynical than he did. He sidled over and cleared his throat so he wouldn't startle her.
"She looks happy," he commented, nodding toward the bride, who was dancing with a fair amount of grace with her new husband. Mac nodded.
"You okay?" he said. She nodded again. She looked up and saw him eying the phone in her hand.
"Veronica," she explained. "She always knows the right thing to say."
"She does like to say things," he agreed. She had given him an earful on the topic of his personal life more times than he could count.
"Hey, look!" he said. "Madison's mom. Can't wait to hear her thoughts about her new son. I don't know if you know this, but she's a lady with an opinion. Used to tell me all the time to get my act together. Nicely, of course." He waved at the dark-haired older woman, who smiled and moved toward them.
"What are you doing over here in the shadows?" she asked. "Behaving yourself, I hope."
"Mrs. Sinclair, it's great to see you," he said, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. He smiled at her genuinely as they exchanged pleasantries.
"Working in hotels now, right?" She asked. "Good work if you can get it." She winked, and Dick saw a spark that he couldn't link to his notoriously dead behind-the-eyes ex. Her eyes then slid over to Mac and as he watched, she seemed to light up inside.
"Cindy," she said warmly, and with a surprising amount of emotion. "It's been so long." Dick knew Madison's mom fairly well, and he was not expecting to see her so moved by Mac's celebrity. But when he saw the look on Mac's face, he realized that maybe there was something he was missing.
"I'm so happy to see you," Mac managed. The two women embraced and Dick quietly excused himself to give them time alone. He tried not to observe their interactions. Respecting privacy was another thing Veronica had tried to drill into him, although he still maintained that if she didn't want him to see her underwear she should think of somewhere more creative than her top drawer to keep it.
Back to his bartender friend he went, this time for another glass of water. He tried to distract himself by counting couples consisting of old guys and younger girls, so as not to spy on Mac's conversation, but it was easier said than done.
"Hi, Dick," he heard from his left. He turned to see Lauren Sinclair regarding him with a smile.
"Kiddo," he said. "How are you? God, you got old."
She grinned as though that were a high compliment. "I bribed the tailor to make my dress lower than the other girls'. Like you always said, you get more guys with cleav than with honey."
Dick was torn between laughing and wincing. "You probably shouldn't take most of the stuff I ever said to you to heart."
Lauren laughed. "Don't worry, this isn't an everyday thing. I really just wanted to piss Madison off." They clinked glasses. "Have you seen her yet?"
"Not yet," Dick said. "Thinking I should probably say hello. I've been told it's poor form to come to a party and ignore the host."
"I'll go with you," Lauren offered. "I'd kind of like to see her reaction to you in a tux."
"She's seen me in a tux before," Dick said.
"What, at junior prom?" Lauren said. "Believe me, the effect is somewhat enhanced now."
"Sweet," Dick said appreciatively. "I still think I looked sick at prom though."
Lauren was already on her way to where Madison stood with her husband and two other men, and Dick followed.
"Look who I found," she told her sister.
Dick grinned.. "Madison," he said. "Congrats. You look beautiful."
She was wearing a fluffy ballgown and a stunned look on her face. "Thank you," she said. "You look...grown-up."
He shrugged. "It happens."
"Grant," she said, taking her husband's arm and pulling him forward. "Honey, this is Dick Casablancas. We used to date a million years ago."
"Dick, nice to meet you," said Grant, extending his free arm for a firm handshake. Dick estimated the groom's age to be thirty and his wealth to be considerable. He vaguely remembered hearing that the older man came from a family of jewelers. Madison's sharp intake of breath derailed his thoughts, and he followed her gaze to where Mac was standing, deep in conversation with the bride's mother, a soft smile on her face.
"Oh my God, there she is," Madison said. "Lauren," she snapped. "Why didn't you tell me she was here?" Lauren just shrugged. "Come on," Madison said to the groom, grabbing his arm again and pulling him past other guests wanting to say congratulations to the happy couple.
"Wow," Dick said. He and Lauren exchanged looks and hastened to follow, but they were still a ways back when Madison reached her target.
"Oh my God, hi!" she trilled as she captured Mac in a hug. Dick noticed with amusement that she didn't seem to know whether to call her guest Mac or Cindy. As the one-sided embrace dragged on, Lauren joined the group and stood by her mom, but Dick hung back slightly. The look on Mac's face was painful to see.
He watched from a distance as she carefully extricated herself and forced a smile. "Thank you for having me," she said stiffly.
"Are you kidding? Thank you for coming!" Madison's pageant smile was also painful to see, for different reasons. "But…where's your date?"
"That was subtle, Madison," said Lauren.
"Brady really wanted to be here," Mac started. "But he had a meeting he couldn't get out of."
"Oh, no, that's really too bad," Madison said. "But you know…I bet Brady and Grant would get along really well. We should do something together, all four of us!"
"Oh," Mac said, fidgeting with her bracelet. "Maybe. I mean, we're both pretty busy, so I'd have to—" she cut off when her cell phone rang inside the small clutch in her hand. "Oh," she said again. "I'm so sorry, I thought it was on silent." She dug out her phone and frowned at the screen, biting her lip. "I'm really sorry, I need to take this."
"No problem!" Madison said, leaning forward a little in her eagerness. "Is it Brady?"
"Um, yeah," Mac said with a frown. "Excuse me."
She walked quickly out the nearest set of French doors before they all watched her pick up her phone.
"Hello?" Dick heard in his ear.
"You're welcome," he said, then hung up his phone, just in time to hear Madison's husband comment on Mac's diamond wreath necklace ("Neil Lane, I believe") and Madison reply that Mac was wearing the same dress she'd worn to the SAG awards. He moved over to stand behind her.
"She looks good, huh?" he said.
"Anyone can look good with enough personal stylists," Madison said offhandedly. She turned to Grant. "Do you think she'll take us up on getting together?"
"Don't hold your breath," Dick said.
"Or, do," Lauren said.
Dick chuckled and tweaked Lauren's shoulder as he moved past her. "Always a pleasure, kid."
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and any comments about celebrities or tabloid magazines are jokes meant in good fun. I hope you enjoy the story, please let me know your thoughts! I love to get feedback.
