Under the Lights

She nods. “So, your friend is leaving, huh? That sucks.”

With a flash, I realize she’s the first person to acknowledge that this is hard for me — not for Josh, and not for Liam. It makes her very hard to look at. Instead, I murmur my agreement and take another long drink, probably crossing my eyes in an effort to avoid hers.

“I’m guessing being surrounded by that boys’ club doesn’t help.”

I snort, then realize again that this girl has seen way too much of Not-So-Nice Vanessa. “They’re good guys,” I manage, like anyone would believe that. “Sorry you’re not really seeing everyone at their best.”

To my surprise, she throws back her head and laughs. “Jesus, you have no idea who I am, do you?”

Is that a trick question? “Umm…the waitress? From before?”

“Man, Jade was right. No one does notice the help.”

And that’s when I realize why her voice sounds vaguely familiar, and my stomach drops. “Holy shit. You’re her intern. Brianna.”

She laughs again, and it’d be a nice sound if it weren’t totally at my expense. “She would kill you if she heard you right now, you know. Remember,” she says, switching into a dead-on impersonation of my publicist’s tone, “you are America’s Sweetheart.”

“Oh God.”

“Nice to meet you, too, though feel free to call me Bri,” she says with a grin, showing those dimples for real this time. Together with her side-swept bangs and beachy red waves, they should make her look like a cutesy doll, but they’re balanced by her tattoos and all-black ensemble — including her fingernails and the plastic frames around her startlingly light green eyes.

Eyes that, I realize now, look exactly like Jade’s.

“Are you…related?”

“Yup. Unless anyone asks. Then…nope.”

“I appreciate you sharing your secret with me,” I say with a smile and feel a little twinge at how sincerely I mean that. Ugh. Clearly too much alcohol. Clearly. Where the hell is Zander, anyway? Shouldn’t he have been the one to come after me? Why did Brianna?

Wait. Why is Brianna even here at all?

“You’re spying on us,” I say flatly, my stomach sinking a little with the realization. And here I thought I was the actress.

For a second, she looks taken aback, but just as quickly, she rearranges her face back into the same blasé expression she had when Josh snapped her over. “Basically.” She shrugs. “Sorry. Mommy Dearest’s orders.”

“That’s really, really screwed up.” I shove the glass of water back into her hands. “You’re both really screwed up. This is a private party, you know. There aren’t even any paparazzi here.”

“No, just a billion cell phone cameras,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “You dropped your persona in two seconds in front of me when you thought I was nobody but a waitress. What if I’d gone to the press or even just a little blog with the story of how Vanessa Park isn’t the sweetheart they think she is?”

Is it possible to hate someone this early into meeting them? Because that’s exactly how I feel. And only part of it is because I know she’s right.

“You can tell your mother that I’m so sweet, I won’t even get you kicked out of Josh’s party right now,” I say with as much honey in my voice as I can muster, although it sounds more like vinegar when it comes out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find my boyfriend.”

She steps away to let me go, and I storm past her, my cheeks burning for far too many reasons to contemplate.

Chapter Five Josh

I’m all for Liam getting the part in the Lassiter movie, but after years of watching him be treated as Hollywood’s hottest body when he barely breaks a tenth of the sweat I do to look this good, I have to admit I’m enjoying watching him struggle as he bench presses next to me.

“Holy Mother of God, what is happening to me?” he whines as he replaces the barbell.

“Looks like someone was up all night…exercising.” I do another couple reps, then replace my own, just to stretch out my hands for a minute. “This is why you always kick the girl out well before dawn.”

He scowls at me as he reluctantly removes ten pounds from each side. “The shots from last night aren’t helping either. You and your stupid parties.”

“Oh, come on. You had fun last night, and so did she. And I bet you got killer head for that present.”

He just rolls his eyes at me and resumes the position.

“I had a lovely night, too, thanks for asking,” I say coolly, moving into position to spot him, since I’m already bored and half-afraid he’s gonna drop it on his face. “Hooked up with that singer.”

“Of course you did,” he grunts as he lifts, and I smile proudly. She’s a pretty damn good get, if I may say so myself. Notoriously picky, especially since she used to bang their drummer steadily for, like, three years. Nice to know I’m probably one of the few guys in the LA area who knows her natural hair color.

“They’ve got a show tonight. You wanna come?”

“Are you kidding? After I have dinner at the Duncans, I’m passing right the fuck out. I don’t remember the last time I felt this tired.”