“Hey.”
Em had appeared at AJ’s side. He hadn’t changed for the party—total power move. This was his house. These were his people. He didn’t need to impress anyone.
“Hey,” said AJ, her gaze automatically returning to the dance floor. Noah was giving in to the music now, Anjalee undulating in his embrace. He was having fun despite himself, and the look on Anjalee’s face was somewhere between triumph and vengeance. AJ felt a fresh pang of jealousy.
“They look great together, don’t they?”
“Definitely,” said AJ, heart thudding. She watched Toni and Dave Eiffel Tower Xiaobo, watched the three of them howl with laughter.
“Dancing’s never really been my thing,” said Em.
“Mine either,” said AJ. Anjalee now had her wrists loosely crossed behind Noah’s neck. AJ couldn’t see his face anymore. She didn’t want to.
“Is now a good time to talk?” said Em. “I figured, if you wanted a break from the party…”
AJ met his keen eyes and realized abruptly that she had become someone Em Tyner knew, someone he was watching over. That maybe all this had been worth it. Very worth it.
AJ smiled shyly. “Sure, yeah. I could use a break.”
Em gave her a quick nod, then he turned into the throng. A pathway appeared as he walked, dozens of eyes taking note as AJ followed him up the stairs. By the time they reached the second floor, her heart had begun to race. Wordlessly, she trailed Em down a dim corridor.
He stopped in front of a thick antique door and showed her into a palatial office the size of AJ’s entire loft. Three archways opened onto a balcony, which AJ assumed overlooked the property, though the view beyond was shrouded in night. A presidential desk had been situated like an altar against the far wall, facing three enormous leather couches on a burgundy hand-knotted rug.
“Can I get you a drink?” asked Em. “Whiskey good?”
“Sure,” said AJ, though she suddenly felt unsure. She took a seat on the leather couch facing the door. Em walked over to a large credenza and uncorked a crystal decanter.
“So, we’re almost wrapped,” he said.
“I know, what a whirlwind,” said AJ.
“It always is,” said Em, walking over to her, two glass tumblers in hand. He held one out to AJ. “Have you thought of how you want your screen credit to appear?”
“I hadn’t,” said AJ, accepting the drink. He stood over her, waiting for her to take a sip. AJ swirled the contents, considering his question, wanting him to step back.
“What about your real name?” Em prompted, taking a seat beside her. “What is it?”
“Oh, I don’t use it,” said AJ, who was never eager to part with this information, and who felt that to do so now would be agreeing to a level of intimacy she wasn’t prepared for.
She had never been alone with Em, and the atmosphere was heady. He was incredibly powerful, and the richly appointed room was silently reminding her of it.
“Why do you ask?”
Em shrugged. “AJ’s a little tomboyish.”
This made AJ laugh. “Well, then it fits.”
Em was not amused. “It’s worth thinking about,” he pressed. “Like, not just for this project, but for where you want to be five years from now.”
“Gainfully employed, with health insurance?”
“That’s funny,” said Em. “You’re funny.”
“You’re not laughing,” said AJ, who had had just enough to drink to talk back. Em’s eyes ignited at this. AJ suddenly found herself wishing she’d worn a less revealing shirt.
“I guess I’m not,” he said. He gave her an intent look, and AJ forced herself to return it. “I don’t think you realize what’s about to happen for you. When people see you in this show, your phone is going to be ringing off the hook.”
“Why?” said AJ.
