“I have a … friend helping me out.”
Lana ended the call. Did she really just declare one of the most famous people in America a “friend,” in front of him? But then, he’d done the same earlier. It was now official, however unlikely—she was friends with a movie star.
“So, fill me in here,” Darnell said. “How long have you two been a thing?”
Lana and Griffin answered at once, a nonsensical tumble of denials.
“Oh, my bad,” Darnell said slowly and deliberately, obviously not buying it. He checked his mirrors, eyes narrowing. “Damn, these punks are following us.”
Lana and Griffin looked. A black SUV was a few cars behind.
“How?” Lana said. “They didn’t see us leave, did they?”
Darnell switched lanes so fast it gave Lana vertigo. As she was regaining her balance, he did it again, inviting multiple horn blasts. “You still got this phone of your sister’s?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you turned it on at the set, and they were there in a few hours?”
“You think they were tracking Vivi’s phone?” She pulled it out and looked at it, as if she’d be able to see a tracker—a red, flashing button or something. “That actually makes sense.”
“Gotta be how they found you then, and how they found you now.” Darnell sped up as a traffic light ahead turned red. He didn’t make it but went through anyway. Lana shrank into the seat. Behind them the SUV swerved onto the wrong side and followed, forcing an oncoming van to hit its brakes. More horns blared.
“You got your seatbelt on, Lana?” Griffin asked, looking behind. “Darnell did all his stunt driving on a process trailer.”
“A what?” Lana asked.
“Where they put your car on the back of a truck and film it to make it look like you’re driving.”
“I’ve been driving these roads since before you were born!” Darnell slipped into a gap that didn’t seem big enough for the car. Lana pressed her elbows into her sides. “I got an idea. There’s that celebrity breakfast the VP is speaking at, at the Wilshire Convention Center.”
“The VP of…?” Lana said.
“The United States?ThatVice President? It’s a fundraiser for Griffin’s charity.”
“Notmycharity,” Griffin said tightly.
“You set it up.”
“I wrote a check.”
“He gave them half his money,” Darnell said, glancing at Lana as if she was moderating the argument.
“Darnell…” Griffin said in warning. Lana guessed it was a secret.
“What charity?” she said. “And how does this help us?”
Darnell swung the steering wheel all the way to the left and then the right to overtake a car. Lana braced against anything she could find. “The Screen Equity Foundation. You know, anti-discrimination, anti-harassment, in the film industry. And it helps us because Griffin here is our ticket in. You’re on the list, right?”
“It’s black tie! Besides, I donate so I don’t have to turn up and make bullshit small talk with sanctimonious rich people!”
“This coming from the richest person I know. Do it for Lana. Buy us time while I sort out this phone situation.”
Griffin swore, under his breath. “All good, we’ve lost them,” he said with palpable relief.
“We won’t lose them until we ditch this phone.”
“Should I chuck it out the window?” Lana asked.
