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The waiter hesitated. “I’m sorry?”

“Porter’s. On Argyle.” Elliott waited, expectant.

“I—” the man, twice Elliott’s age, worried the cuffs of his dress shirt. “Yes, of course, Mr. Fleming. I will send a runner.”

“Excellent.” Elliott smiled out of the side of his mouth. “And our friend here, Miss Kingsbury, is a single malt connoisseur. She’ll have a Bruichladdich X4. They carry it atBombayon Ivar.”

The waiter glanced my direction, but Elliott tapped a finger to the table, drawing his attention back to him. “That’ll be all.”

The man walked away to do as he was told.

Elliott grinned. “And that, my dear, is the gift you’ve just been given.”

“And what gift is that?” Grady demanded, unsmiling. “The license to be an asshole?”

“Come down off your high horse, old boy. Both those shops are less than a block away. Do you really want to deny this is the world we live in?”

“You mean the world where my wife can’t even get the mail in her pajamas without fear of dozens of photos being posted online? Commenting on her choice of dress, the sag of her breasts after feeding our child, the audacity she has for asking them to leave her alone.Thatworld?”

Elliott blew an exaggerative sigh. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Dunn. You know this life is full of perks and tonight is nothing more than our normal.” He looked at me. “You just learn to take it all in stride. Here’s a bit of advice, kid: smile for the cameras. Make the press feel welcome. They can be your worst nightmare or your best friend. Keep them on your side and you’re golden. Piss them off, and, well,” he side-eyed Grady, “they’ll be hashtagging your saggy titties.”

I expected Grady to be outraged. Iwantedhim to be outraged. But instead, he just ignored him, turning his focus to me.

“Here’s the truth, Miss Kingsbury. Very soon you’re going to wake up and you’re not going to recognize the planet you are standing on. Your life is going to seem ethereal. You are going to find it hard to breathe. Hard to think. Hard to simplybe. I’m not trying to scare you, but don’t listen to this idiot pretend all of it is glitz and glamour. What you need to know is—we’ve all been through it. We’re allgoingthrough it. And usually, it gets better—or at least we grow more accustomed to the atmosphere—and life moves on.

“You’ll do okay. Just focus on the work and what you want to bring to the table. We all get caught up in the bright lights and madness of this new universe, but try not to let it change you.Keep the people who matter to you close, and let the rest slide away. And when things get too overwhelming—”

“Get blackout drunk,” Elliott laughed, cutting him off as he slapped his palms on the edge of the table.

Grady rolled his eyes, but as the minutes passed, the two fell into a more amicable existence, the conversation drifting to the upcoming shooting schedule, and the inconvenience of the offbeat location filming destinations.

I tried to stay focused, but despite my star-studded company, my thoughts were anxious to wander. I wanted to check my phone. There was an off chance Dillon could still call. An off chance this was all just a gigantic misunderstanding.

“And here’s the man of the hour!” Elliott stood suddenly, offering the returning waiter a slow, patronizing clap, and pulled a wad of bills out of his wallet. “Well done, my friend. Well done.” He tucked the cash into the man’s breast pocket and swept up the two bottles. “Keep the change, okay?” As the waiter departed, Elliott filled our glasses, shoving them across the table. “To the newest member of our miserable little band.” He raised his glass to me. “Drink up, Kingsbury.”

I could smell the heat of the whisky before I’d even picked up my tumbler. I wasn’t concerned about holding my own when it came to hard liquor—I’d mastered that art in high school—but I wasn’t a fan of sipping it neat and always preferred a mixer. It kept me from doing stupid things. But I wasn’t about to ask for juice or soda.

Setting the glass to my lips, I downed a deep swig, and—holy fucking slam me in the face with a mallet!There was no avoiding the racking, gagging, sputtering cough that hit me as the brutal inferno of heat burned the lining off my esophagus. Whatever poisoned concoction I’d just inhaled certainly wasn’t the typical run-of-the-mill whisky.

“Easy there, m’girl.” Through my streaming eyes, I could see Elliott’s cocky grin across the table. “I’d pegged you for someone who could swallow.”

“You are the epitome of a tool, Fleming,” Grady snapped, setting a hand on my shoulder. He waved the waiter over for a carafe of water.

“What?” Elliott feigned indignance. “We’re all friends here. I mean hell, I’m going to see Kameryn naked in a couple of weeks—it’s the least I can do to learn how she likes to take her liquor.”

I’d been blessedly too overwhelmed since learning I got the part to find time to worry about individual aspects of the filming. The nudity scenes—something I had never done—had been only a source of low-key apprehension. Now, however, with his disparaging comments and innuendos, that subdued apprehension had turned into full-fledged anxiety. I couldn’t imagine playing those scenes withhim. He was so much more of an asshole than I ever imagined possible.

“See, she’s all good,” he gave my arm a playful slug. “Aren’t you, Kameryn? That’s quadruple-distilled 184-proof single malt. Strongest whisky in the world. You could power a sports car off it.” He pried the glass from my white-knuckled hand and downed the remaining finger. Sweat broke out on his upper lip and he had to clear his throat, but otherwise managed to pull off the gesture with indifference. “Easy-breezy, no?” He poured another. “Your turn.”

“You do not have to drink that—” Grady started, but I swept up the glass and downed the measure.

Fuck Elliott Fleming.

This time I managed not to choke, even as the equilibrium of the rooftop swirled around me.

“Atta girl. What a pro. I knew you could take it.”

“You’re taking this too far, Fleming!” Grady launched to his feet, his own drink untouched on the table. “I will not tolerate this!”