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Everything was very … dignified.

They had waiters in black vests with silver trays of appetizers and champagne milling through the crowd. The press was also mingled. They had a wide array of media, including reporters with their recorders, videographers, and photographers. The guests were a mix of people in the business and their plus-ones, all dressed to impress.

David felt like he’d stumbled upon a fundraiser for some posh charity-of-the-moment.

“I’m going to make a quick circuit to say hello to everyone, and then I’m leaving,” David told Kristen and Harriet.

“I want to stay,” Kristen pouted.

“Do what you want,” he said dismissively.

David spotted his favorite Bond Girl talking to none other than the current James Bond. They were in discussion with two of the original Bonds. Harriet and Kristen tagged along as David put on his best smile and approached them.

“… I will say the gadgets you got to play with were much better than what I used.”

“You had a jetpack that allowed you to fly. I would kill to have been able to do that,” Stewart Thatcher, the current Bond, said.

“David!” Rita James, his favorite Bond Girl, called out to him. She actually played his mother in the current movie and was his mentor in real life.

He put his hand around her waist and kissed her cheek.

Introductions were made.

“David is going to help me get a drink. When I get back, you’d better be ready to dance with me,” she said to Stewart.

They’d been dating for over a year now, and David thought that this relationship looked like it might stick. In Hollywood, that was quite a feat.

David was happy when Harriet and Kristen stayed to listen to the gadget debate. Personally, he agreed with the original Bond. His e-wingsuit kicked ass compared to the jetpack. His stuntmen had filled him in about the one used in the movie, Thunderball. It only had a maximum flight duration of 22 seconds, but even then, it had reappeared in the 2002 film, Die Another Day.

“How was your first semester at USC?” Rita asked.

“There was a little drama with football, but I’m getting that worked out. I also played baseball,” David shared.

“What are you majoring in?”

“Business, with the goal of getting my MBA. USC is also a great film school. I plan to take some classes this summer to see if I want that to be my minor,” he replied.

“Learning the other side of the camera will only make you a better actor.”

“Someday, I might want to make my own movies.”

“You sound like every actor I know,” Rita said, looking amused.

“Says the woman who is branching out herself,” David shot back. “But unlike most actors, I think I might be able to do it.”

“If you surround yourself with the right people,” she quipped.

“If you keep teasing me, I’ll make you be my leading lady. When my film is panned, you’ll have your first box office failure and never work again.”

“I’m already playing a mom. It won’t be long before they’ll want to trot me out as the old Queen Victoria in a period piece.”

“PBS is way better than ending up on the Hallmark Channel,” David said with a serious face.

They both laughed, knowing that would never happen. Well, the part about his first attempt at producing or directing a movie sucking might be accurate, but America’s Sweetheart would never fall that far.

While they were getting their drinks, a sharp-looking black man made an announcement.

“The party will be starting in fifteen minutes. If the press would kindly wrap things up? We will be sending people around to collect all recording devices. Once that is done, we’ll kick things off.”

David looked at Rita.

“Did they say ‘all recording devices’?”

“Yes. That means you can have fun without worrying that it will end up in one of the gossip rags come morning.”

While David thought this was a brilliant idea and planned for all his future parties to instate that rule, he worried it might be an invitation to go wild. He was technically on break, he reasoned. Rita bailed on him and went to find her man.

◊◊◊

While the press cleared out, they sent the waitstaff around to collect all cell phones and the like. David had called his security to let them know he was giving up his bodycam for the night. Not because he wanted to, but because they ran this wand thingy over his body and found it. He was given a ticket like people received when they checked their coats to pick up his electronic devices when he left.

His ‘date’ was a huge disappointment. Harriet had called her boyfriend, and he’d hustled his butt to the party to be with her. To top it off, he gushed to David that he was his ‘biggest fan.’ All that kept David from slitting his wrists was that it had to be way past the old man’s bedtime.

The party began with some piped-in music and the handsome black man making a grand entrance with six party hos dancing around him. He held two liquor bottles over his head, and the crowd surged towards him.

“What’s that all about?” Kristen asked.

“That, my innocent American friends, is a Professional Party Starter,” Harriet explained. “His job is to make sure everyone has enough fun, drinks, and drugs … that the music is right … and that the beautiful people are present. Give him twenty minutes, and everyone will be loaded and half-naked and either dancing or shagging. You are about to have your minds blown.”

David shook his head in wonder as the girls handed out shots and other stuff that was probably illegal. He also noticed that the older crowd had all left, and a new group of younger people had flowed in.

He was debating whether he should leave when someone grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the stage. David wasn’t sure who it was because she pushed through the gathering crowd around the PPS, as he was now mentally calling the party starter.

When they broke through the other side, he stopped, jerking the girl who was dragging him, causing her to turn around.

“Pree,” David said as he recognized the terrorist/singer he’d met his senior year of high school. “What are we doing?”

“We’re singing together. Now, follow me,” she ordered.

Well, okay, then.

◊◊◊

Pree Amarnath had sung the featured song for Devil May Care. David might have asked Chubby to tell him who was deciding on the singer and sent the guy couple of her songs. Pree was no joke. She could absolutely shred a song, as he’d learned when the two of them had sung together for a Christmas Special.

David knew that he would never be able to do the vocal gymnastics Pree could pull off, but he could play her straight man and let his baritone carry the tune as she went off. That was how he found himself backstage as she joined her band.

“Gather round. I thought I would sing for you tonight,” Pree announced to the crowd.

She had picked a song that David was sure he would fall on his face singing. It was way too high for his voice. It was Pink and Nate Ruess’s Just Give Me a Reason. The music started, and Pree began to sing.

When David had first heard her sing, she reminded him of one of the classic rockers from the sixties, Janice Joplin. Then she showed that she was much more than a screamer and could hold her own with anyone. When she did that, David thought of another singer, Christina Aguilera.

The song was about a woman who suspects that her relationship is over and begs her man to give her a reason not to end it. Pree’s rendition had David near tears as it came time to join her on stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen … David A. Dawson,” Pree announced as he came from the back.

He gave the crowd a wave. While he didn’t have Nate’s range, David dug down and gave a credible performance singing-wise. What he did know was acting and how to sell an emotion. By the end, he had to blink back real tears because he’d fallen entirely into character.