Page 74 of If the Stars Align

I can’t help but laugh. “That’s a low blow.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. But, hey—if you want to find someone more appropriate for me to date, be my guest. You can be my wingwoman the next time we go out.”

“Why wait?” I say, looking around the bar. “I bet I can find someone for you right now.”

He chuckles. “If you say so. Maybe I should tell you what I’m looking for first?—”

“No need. I know your type,” I say, turning back to him.

“Is that right?” He leans back with one arm stretched over the top of the booth.

I nod. “Pretty brunette with big, brown eyes. Thin…but also a little curvy.”

Jeremy micro-smiles.

“What? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You’re not wrong,” he says with a gleam in his eye. “You also just described yourself.”

My cheeks heat up, but I hold my ground. “More importantly, I described Anjali andNicole, or whoever that girl was. Not to mention the woman who was leaving your apartment when I came over last Sunday, and the one who gave you her number at Millennium Park?—”

“Okay, okay,” he concedes. “Fair enough. So, do you see anyone here who fits the bill?”

I look around again. Obviously there are plenty of attractive brunettes in the bar.

But none of them look quite right for Jeremy.

“Sorry.” I shrug. “Maybe next time.”

He pulls his wallet out of his pocket and leaves a stack of billson the table. “No worries. I have to be up early tomorrow for trial prep, anyway. You ready to go?”

I nod. “Yeah. Thanks for the drinks—and fries. My treat next time.”

I bundle myself back up before we head outside. When we step onto the icy sidewalk, I hail an approaching cab.

Jeremy opens the door for me. “Text me when you get back to your apartment, okay?”

“I always do,” I say. “See you tomorrow?”

He nods. “Same time and place.” Before I get in the cab, he takes a step toward me and kisses me on the cheek.

He’s never done that before.

I’m at a party at Leo’s house when it happens: Ava Elwood spots me from across the room and smiles.

I’m six months into my new life, and it still feels surreal. Here I am inside the mansion of one of the finest actors of our generation—someone I’ve looked up to since I was a kid—and he’s actually praisingmyacting skills. He says he sees a little of himself in me. These are the moments where I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

When Ava walks up to us, she gives Leo a kiss on the cheek. I’m pretty sure they dated years ago. I remember seeing pictures of them in the tabloids. Not that it means much. I’ve been in this business a short time, but long enough to know that Hollywood relationships aren’t always what they seem. In the past few months, my publicist, Wendy, has orchestrated a media frenzy of speculation over which A-list celebrity I’m dating. The truth is, I’m not seeing anyone. But every other week, Wendy will work out a deal with one of her publicist friends, where I get photographed with an actress doing something completelymundane, like going for a walk with coffee. It’s a win-win situation for everyone involved, she tells me. Since I’m new to this industry, being linked to someone with an established career boosts my credibility. And the actress I’m spotted with automatically becomes sexier, supposedly, because she’s caught the eye of the “new hot thing.”

Yes, Wendy refers to me as athing.

Ava turns from Leo to me, then takes my hand, which is surprising considering I’ve never met her. “Mind if I steal him for a few minutes?” she asks our host.

“Be my guest.” He gives me a pat on the shoulder. “Call me next week. We’ll have lunch.”

When he walks away, Ava gently squeezes my fingers. “Come outside with me. It’s too hot in here.”

She leads me through the crowd of famous faces, through sliding doors, and out to the pool. It’s January in LA, and the air is cool, so there aren’t many people out here.