Emma jumped. “Seriously, Leah! How do you even manage to sneak up on people in stilettos?”
Leah tilted her ankle, flashing her orange, studded Valentino heels. “Oh, please. These are practically tennis shoes.” She leaned in to peek at Emma’s screen. “At least it’s not your work email. Progress, I suppose.”
Emma stuffed the phone back in her clutch. “Well, you disappeared twenty minutes ago, and I don’t know how to start a conversation with Jared Leto.”
She cringed at how needy she sounded—way too sixth-grade cafeteria. But she hadn’t expected Leah to just vanish like that.
Leah snorted, tossing her glossy hair over her shoulder. She was wearing a clean-cut ivory dress, draped over the shoulders like a cape. It made her look like a cross between a superhero and a high-end lawyer.
“Asking about any number of questionable choices, perhaps. And sorry. I ran into Kay Bellamy in the powder room.”
A trace of jealousy pinched Emma at the mention of the name. She drowned it with a sip of lukewarm, flat prosecco.
“Right.” She forced her voice to be neutral. “Your next big star?”
Leah had started talking about Kay about a month ago. LA-based BookTok influencer turned debut author, resident darling of the literary world—and only twenty-two. For Leah, whose PR firm specialized in female writers, Kay Bellamy was a potential crown jewel.
Emma understood perfectly well why Leah wanted to represent her. But sinceshehad been Leah’s latest conquest, and, as it seemed, a personal passion project for the last few months, watching her pursue Kay made Emma feel a bit thrown aside. Like a Christmas toy when the next birthday approached.
“Yes, hopefully,” Leah said, scanning the roof in a way that reminded Emma of the Terminator. “She’s cocky, that one. Thinks she knows best all by herself. But I got a good opening. She was out of tampons.”
“That’s your trade secret?” Emma asked dryly. “Always carry tampons?”
Leah nodded gravely. “Tampons, lip gloss, mini-perfume. The holy trinity. You’d be shocked at what doors it can open.”
Emma laughed, her first real one all evening.
“There she is.” Leah’s face softened. She nudged Emma’s chin with her fist, like a boxing coach in gold hoops. “Relax, Emma. You’re not here to hide in corners. You’re here to be brilliant, charming, mysterious.”
“I’m not mysterious,” Emma muttered.
“Sure you are. You write dark, magical stuff with soul-binding and sexy moral collapse. Just channel some of that main character energy.”
Emma shook her head. “Remind me again why I trust you?”
“Because I get results.” Leah clinked her glass against Emma’s. Her gaze flicked over Emma’s shoulder, mouth curving sharper. “And because I’m about to make your night.”
Something about that smile set off alarm bells. Emma tensed. “Leah, what are you—”
Leah reached past her smoothly, decisively, and tapped someone on the shoulder. A familiar-looking someone. Tall. Dark-haired.
Emma’s stomach flipped.
No.
No.
She didn’t just—
The man turned.
And Emma forgot how to breathe.
Darren Cole.
The floor dropped out beneath her, like she was falling and standing at the same time.
He was rightthere. Close enough to reach out and touch. A sudden, irrational fear struck her that she actually would.
