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“Lauren?” Carly said, pausing in front of the door to the rehearsalhall.

“Yes?”

“Just so you know, I plan to objectify you right back.”

* * *

Carly couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out of her way topursue a woman. She’d have to study a calendar, but it had definitely beenbefore she’d become a recognizable name in entertainment. Generally, womenwooedher.They chased her. They sent her gifts and made huge overtures to win herattention. Sometimes, she let them. Other times, she said thank you, butpassed. Just part of the hookup game in Hollywood.

Lauren Prescott was different.

She didn’t care who Carly was. She paid no attention to Carly’sstatus in Hollywood, and she certainly wasn’t easily impressed. Not only that,but Carly couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was she wanted from Lauren.Yes, she was attracted to her and daydreamed about kissing her languidly in avariety of settings. But she also wanted to talk to her nonstop, make herlaugh, figure out what made her tick, make her a plate of fluffy pancakes, andthen kiss her face off some more. What didthatmean, exactly? She didn’t recognize herself lately. This was new territory forCarly, but she was up to the task of wooing.

“I can woo,” she said out loud, inside the apartment that, afterweeks, was beginning to feel like hers. Over the next half hour, she tried onseven different outfits, none of which felt worthy of her date that night withLauren. Failures, all of them. Unsure what to do and close to downshiftingentirely, she lay on her back in the middle of her bedroom and called the oneperson who could help.

“Hey, Car, what’s up?”

She closed her eyes and smiled at Fallon’s voice. They talked everyother day or so, but she’d yet to confide in Fallon about Lauren and herswirling, confusing feelings. “I have a date and need help because I’m a trainwreck and look stupid in everything I try on. Do you have time? It’s okay ifyou don’t. I can just cry in a corner and hope someone finds me later.”

She heard Fallon chuckle. “Your timing is perfect. Just left theoffice at Sony. There was a birthday, so cake and spiked punch abounded.”

Carly laughed. “Your favorite combo.”

“So, you’re a stupid train wreck. Who is this date with?”

“My stage manager, who is now my costar.”

“Wait, the super strict one who lectures you?”

“That’s the one. She’s in the show now, which is a whole separatestory. Her name is Lauren and she has semi-long dark hair and amazing greeneyes with these tiny flecks of gold, and she sometimes keeps me up at nightthinking about her. That’s a lie. Lots of times. Is this normal? It doesn’tfeel normal.”

“Wow, Carly-bear. Do you have a crush? A real one?”

“Yes,” she said, drawing out the word, and throwing her arm aboveher head. She knew she was bringing the drama, but just hearing Fallon’s voiceallowed her to let all her feelings come tumbling out. Fallon was her safeplace to fall. “She makes me smile, and she gets me hot.”

“Those are two important things.”

“She’s also smart, and kind, and flirts in these subtle littleways. There’s more, but I should leave in twenty. She doesn’t like it when I’mlate.”

A long pause on the other end of the phone. “I’m sorry. You’reshowing up places on time? I thought you said this was Carly earlier, butclearly I misheard.”

Carly sat up and spoke animatedly to her wall, pointing at it.“Very funny. But yes, she’s had that kind of effect on me. It’s wild, and Ilike it.”

“Whoa.”

“Whoa is exactly it. Double whoa. Hold the pickle whoa. Thank youfor getting that. So I need advice.” She scanned the room, wondering if sheshould maybe jot a Lauren to-do list. This was all so beyond her experiencelevel.

“Hit me,” Fallon said. “I’m ready.”

“First of all, what do I wear?”

“Well, do you still have a tan?”

She checked out her arms. “It’s fading, but yes.”

“Anything to accentuate it. Light colors. Whites, beiges,pastels.”

A burst of energy hit. She had an idea. “A yellow chiffon blousewith a slight ruffle in the cuff, light wash jeans, and my beige block heels?”