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“Did I miss anor else?” Elliott’s eyes shined with malice. There was nothing about him that resembled the charismatic boy in the posters filling the cinema halls, or the smiling headshot currently plastered across the entertainment news announcing his role inSand Seekers. All he looked like was a thorn in my side I was going to have to bear for the indefinite future.

Once again, he refilled the glass and pushed it toward me. He was leaning close enough that his aftershave was beginning to make me sick to my stomach.

“Do you know, Kameryn, that this is my third film with MacArthur? He and I have done some incredible things together.” He moved the glass into my hand. “You might not realize it, but I spent weeks watching film tests with L.R. as we combed the globe looking for a suitable actress for the role of Addison. Were you given that same opportunity, Grady?” He held up a dismissive palm. “Save your breath, I already know the answer.” His steely gaze returned to me. “You don’t need a knight in shining armor, do you, Kameryn?”

I may have responded with a shake of my head, but I couldn’t be certain. I was already seeing double. I knew behind his veiled threats he wasn’t bluffing. He had history with MacArthur. He had clout. He’d put his own money into the project. Grady may have been the more decorated artist, but Elliott was the draw. All three of us knew it. But I was the only one in jeopardy of losing my job. I realized suddenly this was why he’d asked me here. He had a point to make. On this production, he was king. He wanted to make sure I knew it. Grady, too.

I picked up the whisky. This time it didn’t burn going down. Beside me I could feel Grady’s rage, but he didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t remember if I’d eaten this morning. It may have been last night. My stomach felt like it was disintegrating from the inside out.

“What a champ you are, Kingsbury! Way to put it down!”

Standing, I steadied myself with the table as Grady leapt to take my arm. I suddenly didn’t care if I lost my job. I had to get home. I was going to puke. “I—I have to go.”

“Oh, c’mon, Kameryn, we’re just getting started—”

“Fuck off, Elliott!” Grady hissed over my shoulder as I staggered across the glass tile. Their voices sounded far away, despite Grady still holding my arm. “I’m going to take you home.”

“No, no, thank you…” I’d made it to the elevator, my fingers desperately searching for the down button. “I can Uber.” I was vaguely aware he’d waved off his security as he guided me through the sliding doors.

“You really shouldn’t—”

“I promise, I’m fine!” My voice broke and I was sure I was going to cry. “Please, just…”

Just what? What could he do?

“Let me have your phone.” Without waiting for permission, he reached into my purse. “Type in your passcode.”

We were on the ground floor by the time I could put the four digits in the right order. I handed my phone back to him and he ordered my Uber.

There were bursts of light and raised voices. It took me a moment to realize they were camera flashes from the waiting paparazzi. Grady pulled me away from the front door, sheltering me through a crowded room into a darkened hall, until he’d shouldered his way through an unmarked exit leading to a quiet back alley.

“I’m sorry,” I choked, leaning against the brick wall. “I don’t think I ate earlier, and, the whisky—I think it just went to my head…”

It wasn’t what I was sorry for. I was sorry for being a pathetic, wilting, spineless coward. A jellyfish who didn’t have an ounce of courage to stand up for herself when it really mattered. Grady had tried to stand up for me, and I’d just pushed him aside.

“It’s going to be okay, Kameryn.” He gave my arm a squeeze. I was grateful he didn’t ask me if I wanted him to talk to L.R. or try to approach MacArthur. It would have done no good and just made the humiliation all the more acute.

When my Uber arrived, Grady opened the door and poured me into the back seat. “Gallon of water and something greasy. I’ll see you at the studio. You have my number if you want to talk.” He closed the door.

On the short drive down Melrose, I stared out the window. I don’t know how it was possible, but my thoughts were back on Dillon.

Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve. I wanted to text her, but refused to give in.

What a clown I’d been.

Tonight. Last week. All the days in between.

I pressed my cheek against the cool glass, praying I wouldn’t barf. That was all I needed in the headlines.Kameryn Kingsbury Might Swallow, But She Can’t Keep It Down.

It would be the perfect start to the New Year.

Scene 24

The athletic bay mare flew around the course, clearing fences as if powered by invisible wings. Triple bar, joker, Liverpool, an oxer as wide as it was tall. Both horse and rider made it look effortless, handling each jump with ease.

Dillon sat on the top rail of the arena, counting strides between combinations, marveling at Seren’s ability to communicate with her mare through signals she could never see.