“Fine, then your goal will be to get a guy's phone number.” He moves toward me with that easy confidence. “And I have to go. My agent friend has been bugging me about showing up to these things.” He raises his eyebrow to match it perfectly with his glare. It's me. I'm the agent friend that's been bugging him.
“Besides, I don't want to go alone. And this will be the perfect place for you to practice.”
“Practice for what, exactly? Public humiliation?”
He grins, and there's something wicked in it. “Practice for dealing with the worst Hollywood has to offer. These people are so self-absorbed they think a compliment about their shoes is worthy of a standing ovation. They're like emotional vampires who feed on flattery and name dropping.”
Despite my terror, I snort with laughter. “That's horrible.”
“But accurate. Come on, Stella. You could meet the love of your life tonight, or at least get enough practice so you don't feel awkward around Mason next time you see him.”
The mention of Mason makes my resolve stronger. Brandon's right. If I'm really determined to get a boyfriend, I need to be the kind of confident woman who doesn't blend into the background.
“Fine,” I say. “Give me a minute to change.”
Thirty minutes later, we're winding up into the Hollywood Hills in Brandon's car, and my palms are sweating. The house, when we finally reach it, is one of those sprawling modern monstrosities that looks like it's carved into the mountainside. Floor-to-ceiling windows reveal glimpses of beautiful people holding expensive drinks.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
“Language, sunshine,” Brandon teases, but his hand finds the small of my back as we walk to the front door. “You've been to parties before.”
“Not like this.” And it's true. Sure, I've been to industry events with Blair, but this feels different. More exclusive. More intimidating.
The door opens before we can knock, and we're swept into a world of marble floors and dramatic lighting. The back wall is entirely glass, showcasing a view that stretches from downtown to the ocean, with the city spread out below us like a glittering carpet. Fresh white orchids the size of my head sit on every surface, and the furniture looks like it belongs in an architectural magazine.
“Try not to look so impressed,” Brandon murmurs in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “These people can smell an outsider from a mile away.”
But I can't help it. Even after almost six years in LA, even after all the fancy restaurants and premieres I've attended with clients, this still takes my breath away.
“Brandon! You actually showed up!” A tall brunette in a dress that highlights every perfect curve of her body glides over to us. She air-kisses Brandon's cheeks like they're old friends, and I can't help but stare, feeling a subtle twist of envy in my gut. Her confidence is impressive.
“Couldn't miss seeing you,” he says smoothly. “Vera, this is Stella. Stella, Vera's our producer.”
Vera's smile is polite but dismissive as she looks me over. “Nice to meet you. Are you an actress?”
“Agent,” I say, trying to inject some confidence into my voice. “I work with Blair Bennett.”
That gets her attention. “Blair Bennett? She's brilliant. Absolutely ruthless, but brilliant.”
Before I have a chance to respond, Vera's attention is already moving to the next guest, dismissing us with the kind of polite finality that makes it clear our conversation is over. I'm about to suggest that we find the bar when something catches my eye across the room—a flash of dark hair with purple streaks that I'd recognize anywhere.
“Is that…” I squint through the crowd. “Oh, my God.”
“Is that who?”
“Let's go.” I practically drag Brandon across the room. “Natalie! What are you doing here?”
I can't hide my excitement as I spot my yoga friend near the bar, looking surprisingly at home among the Hollywood elite. She turns, and her face lights up when she sees me.
“Stella! What a surprise!” She's wearing a flowing maxi dress that somehow manages to look both bohemian and elegant, and her dark hair falls in loose waves.
“I had no idea you moved in these circles.”
Natalie's cheeks flush slightly. “I'm just…networking. Learning about the business side of things.”
Before I can question her further, a familiar voice interrupts.
“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”
