I didn’t like it.
But her quick thinking that got me out of the bar without causing a stampede? I had to admit, I was grudgingly impressed. Not many people could make that happen.
Still, it didn’t matter. I’d never see her again. It was fine. Great, even.
The SUV rolled to a stop in the circular driveway of Topher’s mansion, the oversized gates clicking shut behind us. The house loomed ahead, a Southern colonial birthday cake of a house, the kind of place that screamed money and power.I climbed out of the car, clutching the feather boa in one hand and the goofy sunglasses in another.
As I made my way up the front steps, I dialed my best friend Topher. He picked up on the second ring, his voice tinged with amusement.
“Luke,” he said, dragging out my name, “Hal just texted me a photo of your ‘disguise.’ What, are you preparing for a second career as a Bourbon Street mascot?”
I groaned, yanking open the front door. “Tell Hal I’m going to fire him. And for your information, it was the waitress’s idea. This getup helped me blend in so I could get out of there. Your mom wasn’t at Muses, by the way. I guess she’d just left.”
“Well, that waitress made sure you certainly blended into something,” Topher replied, laughter in his voice. “You could start a side hustle as a human parade float.”
I shoved the door open, stepping into the sprawling entryway. The place was pristine, of course, with perfectly arranged art pieces and furniture that looked like no one had ever dared sit on it. “If you’re done mocking me, maybe you could tell me how I’m supposed to survive this circus.”
Topher didn’t miss a beat. “The same way you always do—by pretending you love the attention and smile for the cameras.”
“Yeah, except the whole point of this exile is to avoid the cameras,” I shot back, heading for the kitchen.
Topher’s voice shifted into what I’d dubbed hisWall Street Warriortone, the one he used when closing a deal. “Look, you’re lucky the studio didn’t pull your contract after you punched Dylan. They’re giving you this chance to lie low and prove you’re more than just a tabloid headline. And any time you’re about to blow your cover, think about that role in the new Gerald Fargo movie. It’s exactly what you want—a meaty part that could redefine your career. But you’ve got to show them you’ve got depth. And that means keeping your cool.”
Directors saw me as the poster boy, as Hollywood’s favorite heartthrob. It wasn’t hard to get roles; they lined up for me. But they were all the same role, for a charming, shallow, pretty face. I wanted more. Ineededaudiences to see that I understood real stories, real pain, real depth.
I pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and pressed it to my forehead. “I’m keeping my cool,” I muttered.
“Are you? Because, from what I hear, you’re dressed like a budget Mardi Gras clown.”
“Says the guy who thinks work-life balance is rowing on an erg machine between conference calls.”
“Hey, that erg machine keeps me fit.” He was dead serious. “Seven hours of sleep per week, and I’m still outperforming everyone in the game. Efficiency is key, my friend.”
I laughed despite myself. Topher and I had been best friends since our college days at Brown, where we’d both suffered through endless rowing practices and learned to survive on sheer willpower and caffeine. He’d taken that discipline and turned it into a billion-dollar empire, making him some wunderkind genius in the business world. I, on the other hand, had taken my talents straight to Hollywood.
“Toph, you’re one missed nap away from a total meltdown.”
“Maybe, but I’m too rich to care,” he joked. “Now, about this waitress. What was her name again?”
I hesitated, gripping the bottle a little tighter. “Anna.”
“Wait,Anna Amato?” Topher’s voice perked up, practically crackling with intrigue. “Gorgeous, brown hair, outspoken?”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “Outspoken? She could give a TED Talk on being outspoken.”
Topher continued, undeterred. “Everyone was into Anna back in high school. She was that brainy, outspoken girl who didn’t even realize how cool she was. And you? You’re just the latest in a long line, my friend. Honestly, it would be a nice change from the type of women you’ve been dating since your ego—sorry, I mean yourcareer—took off.”
“I’m sick of the type of women I’ve been dating,” I blurted before I could stop myself. The admission hung in the air for a second, so I scrambled to clarify. “But for clarity’s sake, I’m not interested in Anna.”
“Oh, sure. I totally believe you,” Topher said, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. His tone softened slightly. “Look, man. I know things with Sienna wrecked you more than you let on, but I don’t want Anna to be your rebound. She’s been hurt before, and she’s too sweet to be toyed with. Also, she’s from a big New Orleans family, and I’d prefer not to have a dozen of her cousins gunning for me.”
She’d been hurt before… I wondered how, but then shoved the question away. “As I said,not interested.And Iwillfigure out how to play this role.”
“Good,” Topher replied, the faint clatter of a keyboard in the background, “because the studio’s watching. If you can’t figure out how to play a real person who struggles in life, they’ll find someone else who can. Get to know some real people. This is your shot. Don’t blow it.”
The line went dead, and I stood there staring out at the moonlit backyard.
A real person.Right.
