Issa walked into the dimly lit art gallery turned nightclub and admired the h ge neon sign o the opposite wall reading “Young in Hollywood.” The pa ty was alrea y er wdaq a d photogra­phers from A La Mode magazine were scattered throughout the room, taking pictures for their most popular issue of the year. 

The magazine’s legendary “Young in Hollywood” issue had launched some of the biggest stars of the decade, and everyone knew if you didn’t get invited to this party, you could forget about making next year’s A-list. 

“Come on! Let’s get a drink!” Zee whisper-yelled at Issa over the music. Issa followed Zee’s tall and slender figure through dozens of people to reach the nearest bar. This was Zee’s second year attending, and Issa couldn’t believe Zee had asked her to come as a plus one. 

“Are you serious?!” Issa had shrieked two weeks earlier. “Girl, you are amazing!” 

Zee had smiled, her hazel eyes twinkling. “Not even, sis! The joke’s on the press. I knew they gave me an extra ticket, thinking I would invite some guy so the tabloids could spin a ‘Who is She Dating Now?’ story. But I just want to have a good time, and by bringing you, I can hang out with my new bestie and not worry about my publicist blowing me up about rumors on Monday morning.” 

“Okay, whatever you say. But thank you!” Issa said, playfully rolling her eyes and then hugging Zee. Issa and Zee hit it off from the first day they met while filming the pilot for the young adult drama series, Best Kept Secret. Zee had been a child-star series lead in the past and even had several movie credits to her name. Issa, on the other hand, only had experience as a recurring guest on various hit shows and was finally gaining some “it-girl” status for her red-carpet appearances and daring fashion choices. She was extremely grateful for the opportunity to land a show that actually got picked up for a fall prime time lineup. 

The bartender hand the ladies their beverages, and they started to work their way around the room. “Is that Kitchen Kitty?!” Issa exclaimed as a stout woman with pink hair walked toward them, phone in hand with the voice memo open. 

“Yes, and be careful what you say,” Zee warned, “because you never know what gossip Kitty will be ‘cooking up in her kitchen next!’” They both held in their laughter over the reporter’s signa­ture tagline as Kitty reached them. 

“Well, if it isn’t the hottest starlet in Hollywood!” Kitty exclaimed before air-kissing Zee on each cheek. She then turned toward Issa with a knowing look. “And you must be Isabella Carriveau.” 

“Yas! My ‘Foodies’ have been talking about you on my blog!”

Issa knew Kitchen Kitty’s followers were called “Foodies,” but she was surprised to learn she was a topic of interest on such a popular platform. 

“So, are you all here to support the man of the hour?” Kitty inquired, leaning in with her eyebrows raised. As if summoned by Kitty’s question, camera flashes exploded at the entrance, and Jordan W. entered the room. “I’ll catch up with you ladies in a bit!” Kitty said, using her short arms to bushwhack through the mob to get to Jordan. 

Having landed the coveted cover of A La Mode’s “Young in Hollywood” issue, Jordan W. was the man of the hour. He confi­dently moved his tall frame through the crowd, fully aware that tonight was all about him. 

Issa had seen Jordan’s lean, athletic build in magazine spreads, on television, and in the movies, but tonight was her first time seeing a bona fide star in person. “I didn’t think he really looked like that,” Issa said. 

“Like what? Perfect?” Zee chuckled. “Honey, always. There’s nothing photoshopped about him.” 

Jordan sported a perfectly lined fade, and thick lashes framed his deep bro eyes. His ful lips only accentuated his sharp jaw line. As if his look wasn’t silver screen perfect enough, a light spattering of boy-next-door freckles graced his golden-brown nose and cheeks. Issa exhaled deeply. 

“Really, girl?!” Zee said, almost spitting out her drink. “Did you just have a Waiting to Exhale moment? Okay, Whitney!” 
Issa rolled her eyes, catching herself and smoothing her swoop. Zee had a special talent for calling her out. 

“No. I just wasn’t expecting … I just … leave me alone!” She playfully elbowed Zee, then grabbed her arm. “Come on, my feet are starting to hurt. Let’s go sit down.” 

“Oh, now your feet hurt.” Zee asked skeptically. “You’re prob­ably just feeling faint from looking at Jordan!” she laughed. 
“Girl, bye!” Issa retorted, leading Zee toward the back of the room by the arm. 

She couldn’t believe they found a vacant, plush white sectional in the back corner of such a packed room. Just as they got comfortable, Zee’s relaxed face morphed into a devilish grin. 

“Why do you have that look on your face?” Issa asked. 

“Because today must be your day.” Zee nodded for Issa to look over. 

Issa glanced up only to see Jordan closing in on them. Merely two feet away from her, his full lips started moving, but Issa didn’t hear a word he said – or any sound, for that matter. Time had frozen, and for a moment, she was locked in a trance. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality as his words hit her like a punch to the gut. 

“For the third time: You. Are. In. My. Seat,” he said slowly. 

“This section is VIP for the cover star and his guests,” Jordan continued, now gesturing toward two large VIP signs she and Zee had somehow missed. 

“Got it. I’m going,” Issa said, standing up to quickly grab her purse. What a jerk! She thought as she walked off. She only stopped to look back when she realized Zee wasn’t following her. She gave Zee a fierce glare but Zee only smile and waved for Issa to come back.

Reluctantly, Issa nearly stomped toward Zee, Jordan, and his entourage. Jordan, now seated, was visibly laughing about some­thing Zee had just said. Issa decided she would not give him the satisfaction of eye contact. That’s what big-ego guys like Jordan crave-attention, she thought, and she was determined to ignore him. 

“Jordan, this is my co-star and friend, Isabella. Issa for short. Issa, this is Jordan … the ‘man of the hour.”‘ Zee watched awkwardly as Issa grumbled a greeting but continued her intro­duction anyway. 

“Jordan, here, likes to mess with people.” Zee shrugged, lightly tapping Jordan’s shoulder. “He and I were briefly intro­duced at an Emmy party last year, but we haven’t really seen each other since,” Zee explained. “He’s inviting us to stay and hang out if we want.” 

Issa did not “want.” But it was clear that Zee did “want.” Zee had been kind enough to bring Issa to this very exclusive party, and Issa figured the least she could do was swallow her pride and be a good sport. “Sure, why not?” she responded with a tight smile. 

She sat down next to her friend, arms crossed, while Zee and Jordan talked for a few more minutes. Suddenly, Zee leaned back toward Issa to let her know she would be right back. Before Issa could respond, Zee had disappeared into the crowd, and Jordan had already turned his attention to a different actress. 

Perfect, she thought. Zee had convinced her to stay inJordan’s special VIP “don’t-sit-here” area, then abandoned her. 
Grabbing her purse, Issa stood up and smoothed her straight, dark hair. This wasn’t just a party; this was the networking event of the season for someone like her. She was going to get out there, schmoo e, and hopefully land in the right pictures.

Just as she was about to pass the VIP sings, two photographers startled her at the short velvet ropes.

“Jordan! We missed you earlier; can we get a few shots?” one called out.

Immediately, Issa felt a hand grab her wrist and pull her in. Camera lights began to flash, and her reflexes kicked in. She looked straight ahead, smiling, then turned her face slightly at various angles for the cameras. The hand around her waist firmed up, causing her to lean in. 

“Thank you!” “That was great!” the photographers shouted, already moving to their next subjects. 

Issa looked up as Jordan leaned down toward her ear. He whispered, “Thanks,” before slipping away What just happened? She slowly smoothed her long tresses once more, watching his broad shoulders move further into the distance. She would have to figure out how to feel about that later, but for now, she had to work the room.