Part 6: Limo, or no?
Finally, at 11:50 Saturday morning, it was time. The head valet cleared the circular drive outside the W’s entrance as a camera team gathered. A long, black limo slowly turned in. The passenger door was opened. Out spilled a collection of tanned, taut and designer-decked men and women – five, then six. Unrecognizable, members of a celeb-support team. And then, out she stepped – Paula Abdul. She spoke not a word, but managed a smile as the camera lights went on and handlers started gabbing in greeting.
Just behind the limo came a black Chevy Suburban. Out popped Ryan Seacrest. No fey limo for him; what’s more, he opened his own door. He didn’t miss a beat. He smiled. He waved. He shouted greetings to anyone in the vicinity. The camera started rolling and he strolled in as he played emcee to his own arrival. “It’s great to be in Dallas,” he said as he moved toward the stairs that would whisk up into second-floor secrecy.
Tom Maurstad