Peaches Monroe: The Return of Ursula (Short Story) Read Online Free Page B

and ask them exactly where the set for the hotel ballroom was, and this guy actually pulled out a scrap sheet of paper and drew us a map.
    “This is too easy,” Mitchell said once we were alone and moving down another hallway that connected to a different building.
    “I know. I’m actually getting worried about my husband’s safety. He could have all sorts of stalkers getting in here and throwing themselves at him.”
    “Like a sexy, voluptuous Cleopatra,” Mitchell said. “Meow. You are making me so straight today, you bad girl.”
    We got to a closed door. The sign said HOTEL BALLROOM - FILMING IN SESSION.
    “This is it,” Mitchell said. “Try not to look like a stalker when you see him.”
    “That’ll be tough, because he’s so adorable. I’ll probably start drooling, even though I’m mad at him.”
    Mitchell grinned. “I wonder if he has his shirt off.” He reached for the door, then stopped. “Wait a minute. Are you actually mad at him? You’re not going to go in there and cause a big stink, are you?”
    “Me? Why does everyone think I’m the person who starts up drama?”
    “Because you throw water on the paparazzi, Super Soaker.”
    “Just open the door. I’m not doing this to cause drama. We’ll go in, watch them filming for a few minutes, then we’ll zip right back out again before anyone notices, and then we’ll go shopping.”
    Mitchell looked skeptical.
    “We’ll buy area rugs,” I said. “I just want to see what they’re doing. Ten minutes, that’s all I want.”
    He made a face with wide eyes, acting like this was all my idea and he hadn’t masterminded the whole thing and talked me into it. He opened the door.
    We stepped through, and right onto the set. We were in the fancy ballroom, on the dance floor. Someone barked at us to get out of the shot. The set was enormous, and there must have been a hundred people in there, all working.
    I saw my husband, Dalton Deangelo, less than twenty feet away. I froze on the spot. He was leaning forward so that a short makeup artist woman could powder his forehead with more of the pale makeup they use to make him look like a two-hundred-year-old immortal vampire.
    He turned his face toward mine, our eyes met, and my blood ran cold. His green eyes were dark like coal, even under the bright studio lighting.
    He looked away from me quickly, but in that instant, I knew he’d seen right through my disguise.
    And I was absolutely sure he was livid .
    My heart sunk, and a wave of nausea passed over me. Mitchell grabbed my arm and yanked me off the dance floor, out of the bright lighting.
    We retreated to a dark corner like two cockroaches.
    I stood there quietly, trying not to faint or throw up or die of embarrassment right on the spot.
    A ringing bell went off, and a hush fell upon the ballroom as a hundred people stopped speaking or moving, all at once.
    In the eerie silence, vampire Drake Cheshire came to life before the cameras. The shot involved him waltzing with a teen girl while alternating between being charming and being terrifying. I actually felt sorry for the poor girl. He can be so charming and terrifying when he’s playing Drake.
    When the bell rang again to indicate that shot was finished, I gasped for oxygen. I’d been holding my breath the entire time.
    Mitchell leaned over and whispered, “He’s such a professional. You know, I can’t objectify him like I used to, since we’re friends now and I’ve barbecued steaks with him, but when you see him acting like this, wow. That man is a magnificent beast.”
    I murmured an agreement as I scanned the ballroom for security guards. Maybe it was just nerves from watching my husband act terrifying, but I felt jumpy. I spotted at least two security guards, but both male. There was no sign of the tough woman.
    Mitchell saw me scanning and said, “Relax. We’re fine.”
    “Dalton totally saw us. He recognized me, and he’s going to be so mad. We need to get out of here