Buried under the covers, Issa reached one hand out into the cold air and patted around the top of her nightstand searching for her buzzing phone. Squinting against the dim natural light filtering through the blinds, she could barely make out the name on the caller I.D.

Pamila Carriveau, her mother and manager, had apparently called her twice. Issa didn’t know which of Pamila’ s personalities would be at the other end of the line, and her anxiety began to rise. If it was her mother, Issa was in for a fun and light-hearted conversation about who wore what and what food was served at the party. If it was her manager, Issa would be in for a lecture about any number of things. Given the time of morning, she braced herself for the worst. 

“Hello?” Issa croaked into her cell phone. 

“Isabella Carriveau, have you been online yet?” Pamila was in full manager mode. 

“No, Mother … it’s 6 AM … I got in late last night, and I don’t have to get to set until nine.” Issa groggily sat up in her bed and put her mother on speakerphone so she could see her phone’s screen. 

“Okay. What am I supposed to be looking at?” 

“Access Entertainment, A La Mode, all the major platforms, you name it! You’re Monday’s main story!” Pamila gushed. 

Issa’s eyes widened when she saw hit after hit online featuring pictures of her and Jordan from the weekend’s party. Her smoky eyes seared into the camera as she pressed one hand into Jordan’s chest with the other wrapped around his side. She didn’t even remember posing like that. Jordan’s hand rested firmly on her waist, and his gaze was fixed on her, an intense look in his eyes. 

Scrolling further down the page, she saw a meme of the same picture that read, “Get you a man who looks at you like Jordan looks at Issa.” 

“Oh, my gosh,” Issa groaned, pressing her eyelids closed as a light throbbing started at her temples. There were dozens of articles asking, “Are they young Hollywood’s new ‘it’ couple?”

“Issa, you sound upset about this. This exposure is fantastic!” Pamila sounded completely baffled at Issa’s disappointment. 

“I mean, I’m not exactly thrilled. I literally met him for two seconds-two very rude seconds, by the way-and now I’m a love interest? We’re starting promo for the series soon, and I’m trying to be taken seriously for my work, not for being one of Jordan W.’s groupies.” 

Having seen so many young women in Hollywood get tossed by the wayside because they were considered nothing but party girls who bounced from one fling to another, Issa had promised herself never to compromise her reputation as a serious actor by engaging in public flings. She recalled seeing Jordan talking to another actress before she was photographed with him. Who knew how many others he’d talked to or even gone home with? She wanted no parts of it.