“Maybe she does,” said Scout. “But unlike your worthless law school boyfriend—no offense, Brooks, I just mean in terms of industry connections that can benefit us—”
“None taken.” Brooks winked at me.
“Alden is directly responsible for getting us this invitation.” Scout shook out her mane, teased to the heavens, then smoothed her emerald-green minidress. To make ourselves more memorable to the people we’d meet tonight—which, fingers crossed, would include a lot of Hollywood heavyweights—the three of us had come dressed in a trio of rich Christmas-colored sequins: Georgia in red, Scout in green, and me in white. We had Santa hats stuffed into our purses that we planned to put on right before we entered, to save our hair from going flat—Georgia’s brilliant idea.
I grabbed the flask and took one last shot of the terrible whiskey. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Time to charm their asses off.” Scout shoved past a leafy Rudolph and marched toward the house, slowed neither by her heels nor the question of whether we were keeping up. She’d always been the mostunapologetically ambitious person I’d known, and I’d always been happy to let her take charge of both of our lives.
After a minute of huffing to match Scout’s stride, I wiped sweat from my hairline. “Gross. I shouldn’t be sweating in December. It’s unnatural.”
“Curse this desert planet of LA,” Georgia agreed, “and its eighty-degree Christmases. I miss the snow.”
“Can someone remind me why this party’s such a big deal?” Even long-limbed Brooks was working to catch his breath. “It’s at some bigwig’s house?”
“This is EastonBanks’shouse.” I reached for Brooks’s hand and then stopped myself. Scout said people would be more interested in us if they thought we were both hot and single, so I was supposed to cool it with the PDA. “The president of the entire ABS network.”
“That’s the network that owns Freeverse, the channel their show is on,” Georgia explained. Even though she was only a college freshman and majoring in anthropology—not entertainment, after being forced to listen to me and Scout dissect the industry for hours on end—she probably could’ve written forDeadline.
“So Easton’s like your boss’s boss’s boss?”
“Add a few more bosses in there, and you’ve got it.” Scout’s gaze stayed glued to the mansion. “Every year, Easton throws a legendary Christmas party. The who’s who of Hollywood all show up. Izzy and I used to cut pictures of this party out ofUs Weeklyand tape them to our mirrors.” She squeezed Georgia’s shoulders. “And now, thanks to my genius little sister, we’re actually going.”
“Easton’s son Alden goes to USC with Georgia,” I added, for Brooks’s benefit. “That’s why we got invited. He’s obsessed with her.”
Brooks snapped his fingers. “You mean that creepy guy who’s always shadowing us when we go out?” He gave Georgia an incredulous look. “You’re dating him?”
“First of all, I’mnotdating him. Second of all, Alden is not creepy,” Georgia insisted. “How many times do I have to say that?”
“Methinks the woman doth protest too much,” I sang to Scout, who smirked.
“And you,” Georgia said to Scout, “stop calling me a genius. Ididn’t become friends with Alden to boost your careers. He might be a little eccentric, but he’s a sweetheart underneath. You’d have no idea he was even this rich if you just met him.”
Scout and I exchanged a look.Doubtful. We made it our business to know.
We rounded a curve in the driveway, bringing the full splendor of the house into view, and I stopped in my tracks. “Ohwow.”
It looked like a Mediterranean-style castle, with soaring cream stucco walls, a red terra-cotta roof, and skyscraper palm trees. The estate had been transformed through elaborate stage design into a winter wonderland. Lights were strung through the landscaping, faux snow sat light and fluttery on the ground, and actual costumed carolers—probably actors desperate for a SAG voucher—were huddled near the entrance, singing “Silver Bells.” There was a steady line of gleaming black limousines waiting to drop off passengers, who climbed up the mansion’s steep stairs to the front door and received flutes of champagne handed out by tuxedo-clad greeters.
“In retrospect,” I said, “I’m glad the driver dropped us off a mile away.” Imagine rattling into line behind these limos in our busted yellow taxi.
Brooks stood wide-eyed, clearly sharing my feelings. There were big houses all over LA, but there was something grand and even a little mysterious about the Hollywood Hills, with its massive mansions hidden by dense trees, and narrow, winding roads that circled the Santa Monica mountains. In a town obsessed with the new and next, it retained a sense of history, an aura of old Hollywood. It was my favorite part of the city. From the moment Scout and I had stepped off our Greyhound bus under the protective eye of the Hollywood Sign, I’d had my sights set high on it.
“Let’s run it one more time,” Scout said. She must have been as nervous as I was. “Our plan is to find Alden. Do the rounds, become the life of the party, make ourselves memorable, and then, once there’s perfect energy, have Alden introduce us to his dad.”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “I can just ask him—”
“We tell Easton we love our roles onThe Weird World of Wenda Word,” I recited. “That’s important, so we don’t come off as ungrateful.”Scout and I had rehearsed every part of this. “But we mention we’re eager for more adult roles. With more substance.”
“And more money also wouldn’t hurt,” Georgia pointed out. “Seeing as how your apartment is smaller than my dorm room.”
“No talk of money,” I corrected. “That’s totally gauche.”
“We’re artists,” Scout agreed. “We’re not here for a handout. Now let’s sneak into the limo line so people think we just came out of one.”
After we’d strategically inserted ourselves into the crowd climbing up the stairs, Scout turned to Brooks and lowered her voice. “Maybe you can find a way to drop that we’re triple threats. I can sing, dance, andwrite— Brooks, are you listening?”
“Convince your boss you’re the Jersey version of Affleck and Damon, got it,” Brooks joked.
