My breath catches.
Anna scans the audience, her eyes glistening under the lights. “—who has been by my side since the very beginning. You’vebeen my voice of reason, my biggest cheerleader, and the person who reminded me to stay grounded when the world got loud. This”—she holds up the Oscar, smiling through tears—“is for both of us. For every woman who’s been told she can’t, and for the friends who remind her that she can.”
She goes on to thank a few more people, including her fiancé Jaden, but it’s all white noise now—my heart thrums so loudly that it’s all I can hear.
My vision blurs. The lights, the stage, the gold—it all fades under the warmth spreading through my chest. Tears spill freely, tracing the smile I can’t hold back.
Miles reaches over and slides his hand over mine, squeezing gently. “That’s pretty amazing,” he murmurs.
I nod, blinking hard, but the tears just keep coming. “Yeah,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “It really is.”
Anna finishes her speech to a standing ovation. The crowd rises, applause thundering, lights flashing like stars, and I can’t stop clapping.
For a moment, I forget where we are—the red carpet, the cameras, the thousands of eyes watching. All I can see is Anna on that stage, her dream finally realized, her heart poured out for the world to see. No one deserves this more than she does. Not everyone in Hollywood is good—case in point, Anna’s parents—butsheis. A true gem with the kindest heart, who’s worked tirelessly to build a career defined by talent and integrity, not legacy or scandal. She finally has everything she’s ever dreamed of—the dream job, the accolades, the Oscar, and a beautiful life with her soulmate.
The two of us have been through so much together. Over the years, we’ve had countless late-night conversations, wondering if we’d ever find it—that elusive happiness. I’m so glad one of us finally did.
CHAPTER
FOUR
MIRANDA
The after-party is exactly what I expected—and somehow so much more.
Music thumps softly through the elegant ballroom, a blend of classic Hollywood glamour and electric modern energy. Golden light spills from chandeliers, and the air smells like the Hollywood elite. It’s a thing. Everywhere I look, laughter sparkles brighter than the sequins on the gowns.
Anna’s already done with the whirlwind of press photos and interviews, her Oscar locked up at the ritzy hotel we’re staying at so she can enjoy the night. Jaden has barely stopped smiling since her name was called. When she spots me across the room, she waves, her eyes still shining. Props to her makeup artist because her picture-perfect face of makeup hasn’t smudged at all.
“She’s glowing,” I say, half in awe.
Miles, who’s beside me holding a cocktail, grins. “She just won a freaking Oscar. I’d glow too.”
He takes a sip, grimaces, and mutters, “That’s definitely not what I ordered.” He sets the drink on the bar top.
I laugh, tugging him toward the dance floor where Jaden and Anna are already spinning in circles, Anna’s dress shimmering under the moving lights. Jaden dips her dramatically, and she throws her head back, laughing loudly.
Miles slides in behind me, his hand brushing mine. “C’mon, Sunshine, don’t leave me hanging. Come dance with me.”
He twirls me onto the dance floor, and before I can protest, we’re spinning among the swirl of tuxedos and gowns. I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe. Miles is all chaotic energy—singing lyrics he only half knows, doing that jock shuffle that’s more confidence than rhythm. Somehow it works, with him—everything does.
When the DJ transitions from something elegant to something with a deep bass line, Miles whoops and throws an arm around Jaden, pulling him into our circle. Anna joins, too, and suddenly, the four of us are moving in sync—our little Crane crew in the middle of Hollywood royalty.
Someone snaps a picture, and I can already imagine the headlines:Oscar winner Annalise Sterling celebrates with her team.
For once, I don’t care how I look or if the world sees. My cheeks hurt from smiling, my feet from dancing, and my heart from being so full it could burst.
At one point, Miles disappears for a drink and returns with two glasses of champagne, handing one to me.
“For the goddess,” he says, raising his glass.
I clink mine against his. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Always.” He tips the glass to his mouth, downing the sparkling beverage in one gulp.
The warmth of the champagne spreads through me. “Did you get uncomfortably close to any celebrities on your way to the bar?”
He shrugs. “I may have taken a few selfies, but I totally played it cool. I didn’t fangirl.”
