Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

19. The Event

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I hop into the limo and am handed a flute of champagne by Poppy before I am even in my seat.

I look around and see a couple of unfamiliar faces staring back at me. One of the girls who looks like she sucked on a lemon looks me up and down and makes me feel a little uncomfortable.

She turns to Poppy and quietly asks, "Is this the girl who -"

"Yes! She's the girl I went to high school with," Poppy quickly interrupts through gritted teeth, her eyes wide and directed to the other girl, as though she were trying to telepathically pass on a message. "Everyone meet Ava."

Obviously something is not right here, though I don't really care all that much. I don't plan to stay long at the event, and will distance myself from the group if I can manage.

She then points to the sour looking girl, who coincidentally happens to be wearing yellow, and tells me her name is Francesca and also signals to two guys in the car. One, seems a little he's had a little too much to drink - and then some. And the other seems quite bored - as though this were all beneath him.

"And this is Max and Dom, mine and Frannie's dates."

Dom, who was sitting with Francesca seemed friendly as he makes polite chit chat with me, though Poppy's date Max seems like an arrogant àss. A match made in heaven.

"Where's your date?" Francesca snickers, directing the question to me.

Dom rests his hand on her knee, "Play nice," I hear him whisper.

"I didn't know I could bring one," I reply.

I quickly down the glass of champagne and Poppy is already refilling it for me.

"Drink up," she urges, raising her glass in my direction.

This is going to be a really long night.

Max then lights up a cigarette and inhales deeply and rolls down the window slightly. I make an effort to cough loudly in annoyance, which only seems to amuse him as a slight smile plays on his lips. Although I hate smoking, I had to admit he does make it seem very sëxy.

"You know that smoking is bad for you?" I tell him matter of factly, and instantly regret it once it comes out of my mouth.

No shít, Sherlock.

"Oh really?" he asks looking shocked. "I had no idea," with mock surprise as he hastily butts his cigarette out in the ashtray.

I am taken aback by his deep English accent as it curls off his tongue. It sounds almost musical in a way. He goes to say something to me, and stops when Poppy announces that we're here.

My stomach drops when we pull up to the building. The very same building where Harry had taken me, only a couple of days prior. How very long ago that seems and I am saddened by the reminder.

Oh my gosh. No. This can't be happening. I can't see him. Not like this. Not in a public place with a number of reporters, and paparazzi. I'm in a state of panic when I realise that there is a very good chance that I will run into Harry at the showing and I look for a way out.

"Ava? You coming?" Poppy asks me, looking into the limo.

"I-I'm not feeling very well. I think I'll just go home." I stutter.

"I'm not having any of that! Get out of the car," she demands, holding out her hand.

I reluctantly reach out and I step out of the limo and onto the red carpet.