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“That, they are. Especially yours.” He settled back, stretching out his long legs. “Now are you finally going to relax and enjoy this trip? Ever since Dan asked you to replace him you’ve been more nervous than a high schooler for their first dance at the prom!”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But this is a big deal. I don’t want to let Dan down.”

“You’re not going to let him down. Just be yourself out there, and everything will be fine.”

“You think?”

“Sure. Hey, movie stars are regular people, too, and they’re going to be very much themselves this weekend, just a little get-together of friends.”

“Yeah—yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said, even though she had the distinct impression he was wrong. Stars like Emerald Rhone or Alina Isman were never truly themselves when out in public, and that’s what this shindig was, after all: a public affair. Otherwise why was she invited? If this was friends and family only, would Emerald have invited Dan? No, this was a public event, and Odelia was going to be subjected to the same scrutiny as the rest of them, which meant she needed to look her absolute and stunning best.

“Besides,” Chase went on, “it’s not as if we’re going to be the center of attention. We’ll just be flies on the wall—the guests no one pays attention to.”

She nodded, and willed herself to relax her death grip on the steering wheel. Usually Dan handled these high-profile get-togethers. They were important networking opportunities. But more and more he was pushing Odelia to take over for him—introducing her into the world of celebrities.

“With so many famous stars there, we’re going to blend right in,” Chase said. “And isn’t that the whole point? For you to have access to these people and still be able to write your articles? You’re not the star, babe—you just have to mingle with the stars so you can write about them.”

She was nodding in agreement.“And that’s my strength as a reporter. Not to stand out too much, while at the same time earning the real stars’ trust.”

“Hey, those stars don’t appreciate it if some reporter steals the limelight. So frankly speaking the plainer and less flashy we both look, the better.”

She laughed. He was right. Stars hate to be upstaged. She darted a quick look at him. He was looking his usual handsome self. Dressed in tan slacks, aquamarine button-down and penny loafers, he could have featured in a Ralph Lauren ad for menswear. She’d opted for a simple floral-pattern summer dress and still felt underdressed for the occasion. But he was right. They weren’t the stars, and they shouldn’t try to look like stars, either.

“So about Max and Dooley,” she said. “You know I couldn’t take them. Dan was very specific about that. No cats allowed.”

“I’m sure Emerald would have made an exception. They’re housebroken.”

“It’s not that. Emerald is allergic to cats.”

“And yet she’s always photographed lugging that little mutt around.”

“That’s different. A person can be allergic to cats and not to dogs.”

“Hey—your cats, your rules, babe.”

“And even if Emerald wasn’t allergic, it just wouldn’t be practical. If I take Max and Dooley, I’d have to take Brutus and Harriet, too, and their bowls and litter boxes, and it would just turn into a whole production and for what? Just so they can spend the weekend at Emerald’s? No, they’ll be fine with Mom.”

She was feeling a little guilty about leaving her cats behind. They were rarely separated for even one night, and now she was going away for a whole weekend. But it was a little impractical, and she could hardly impose on Emerald, who was one of the world’s biggest stars. It was a miracle they’d been invited in the first place, so showing up with four cats, their litter boxes, bowls, bags of cat food, favorite blankets, pillows and toys would be nuts.

They’d be fine at her mother’s place, who’d make sure they were fed and taken care of. Besides, she was sure the cast ofBig Little Secrets would all bring their own pets—all dogs—and create trouble for Max and the others.

She wouldn’t want Max and the others facing off with a pack of wild Maltipoos, Yorkshire Terriers, Chihuahuas, Shih Tzus or Brussels Griffons!

Chapter 3

That night, the four of us were lying on the couch Marge reserved for us in the family room, while she and her husband Tex and her mother Vesta were watching a movie. It had been Gran’s turn to choose the movie, and she had picked one of her favorite ones:Pearl Harbor, now playing on the flatscreen.

“I really can’t imagine what you see in that movie, Mom,” said Marge.

“Shush,” said Gran. The big kissing scene between Ben Affleck and Kate Beckinsale was coming up, and she didn’t want to miss a thing, as the song goes.

Marge’s brother Uncle Alec, a frequent guest, was already half asleep, and Tex looked about to doze off, too. They weren’t too big on kissing scenes.

Marge, who’d wanted to watchThe Bachelorette, didn’t look happy either.

“It’s flyboys!” said Gran. “How can you not like flyboys?”