Tony Parker never expected that he'd become an All-Star in San Antonio so quickly, or that he'd get on one knee for a TV starlet from Corpus Christi, Eva Longoria

	Tony Parker and Eva Longoria. AP

By Alan Shipnuck

It's All-Star Weekend in Las Vegas, and the NBA's most glamorous couple has just arrived on the red carpet outside of Pure nightclub. The mere sight of Tony Parker and Eva Longoria sets off a mini-stampede among the assembled fans, photographers and overcoiffed TV talent. The club is giving Parker and Longoria big bucks to host a party, and running this publicity gantlet is the price they have to pay. Longoria, effortlessly working the crowd, looks dazzling in a revealing wraparound white top, short shorts and gold high heels that match her bling; Parker wears a beige suit and a faraway look in his eyes. Sensing his discomfort, Longoria takes charge as if she were the All-Star point guard. "We're over here," she whispers, turning Parker toward a bank of photographers.

"Now we're over here," she says, guiding him farther down the red carpet.

"And we're going to do one more over here," she says, spinning him toward another cluster of cameras. Finally, she gently removes Parker's hand from hers and steps away to be photographed without him. There is a reason she got top billing on the party fliers: Longoria is a TV starlet, tabloid siren and fashion trendsetter; her fiancé is merely in town for his second straight All-Star Game.

Taking in the spectacle, Parker offers a wary half-smile. "This is Eva's world," he says, "not mine."

Soon they are herded inside, to a VIP section overlooking the dance floor. Thousands of commoners have paid $20 or $30 a head to attend; spotting Parker and Longoria, a sweaty mass of camera-wielding clubbers surges against the glass wall that separates them from their hosts. As the night goes on, the celebrity wattage increases, with Cameron Diaz, Nicky Hilton and Dennis Rodman among the boldface names stopping by. Sequestered in the VIP area, Parker finally exhales, rapping along with the thumping hip-hop and ordering bottle after bottle of Cristal for his guests. He and Longoria exit the club at 3 a.m. and then spend another hour gambling. When they call it a night, the All-Star tip-off is 13 hours away.

Arriving at the arena the following afternoon, Longoria relays her pregame pep talk. "I told Tony to take some aspirin, because it was a long night of partying," she purrs. "He might be a little sluggish out there. He might be a little tired."