“Ignore her crankiness,” Val told Taylor. “She’s just mad that I saw Josh Hartnett sitting in first class and she didn’t.”

“That wasn’t Josh Hartnett; that kid was eighteen years old,” Kate said.

“I told you, they age slower out here. It’s all the fresh California air,” Val replied.

“Yes, because that’s exactly what Los Angeles is known for,” Kate said dryly. “Clean air.”

Taylor stopped and took in her friends. It was like being home again. “God, I missed you two,” she said, taking them both in with a content smile. First Valerie, with her shoulder-length curly blonde hair and typical slightly eclectic attire of jeans, a flowy peasant top, and oversized hoop earrings. In stark contrast next to her stood Kate, with her stick-straight ebony hair pulled back in a serious bun and wearing a gray pinstripe pantsuit and no-nonsense Marc Jacobs one-inch heels.

The fact that these two women were finally in Los Angeles left Taylor feeling quite sentimental. “You guys look so great.” She sighed happily.

At that, Kate leaned over and whispered loudly to Val. “Oh no—I think she’s gone soft on us.”

Val covered her mouth with one hand, “I told you about that giggle I heard,” she said to Kate.

“That’s right!” Kate pointed at Taylor, suddenly remembering. “You. Spill it. Giggling? Mysterious evenings out? What’s been going on out here?”

Taylor gestured to their surroundings. “Can we at least get out of the airport? I think we’re gonna need a few drinks for this.”

Valerie shrugged amiably. “Fine, I want to get back to your place to freshen up, anyway.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Freshen up? You spent twenty minutes doing your makeup on the plane before we landed.”

Valerie fixed Kate with an ultraserious stare. “Katherine. We are in L.A. One must look their best at all times out here. You never know who you might meet.” Val looped her arm through Taylor’s as the three of them headed in the direction of the baggage claim. “Tell her, Taylor.”

Kate pulled her suitcase along, keeping up with them. “Yes, tell me, Taylor,” she said teasingly. “Tell me how the celebrities are just falling off the trees around here, like oranges.”

Taylor stared straight ahead as they walked, praying she didn’t lose her shit right there in the airport.

“Um, well . . . let’s get back to my place. Then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”


BACK AT HER apartment, after getting Kate and Val set up in her guest bedroom, Taylor poured them a round of their usual mango martinis. She sipped her drink quickly, figuring the buzz would help loosen her tongue, which lately seemed to get stuck anytime she even thought the name Jason Andrews.

Oh yeah, and Scott Casey, too. Of course.

Realizing she couldn’t delay any further, Taylor sat her drink down on the kitchen table. Determined to get this over with.

“Okay, look—I need to tell you guys something. Actually, now it’s a couple of somethings.” She took a deep breath. Slowly, ease into it slowly.

“So here’s the deal: the firm put me on this project, and I had to keep things quiet to avoid any publicity conflicts with my trial.” Taylor stopped. Damn—that had come out wrong. “Not that I thought either of you would purposely tell anyone,” she backtracked, “but—”

“Oh my god . . .” Kate whispered. Her eyes widened in shock. “You’re not coming back to Chicago.”

Taylor shook her head. “Of course I am. That’s not it.” She regrouped. “Anyway, for this project, I had to work with a certain someone, and help him out with—”

Valerie gasped excitedly. “I knew it! You’re dating somebody!”

Taylor pointed at her emphatically. “No. We are definitely not dating. Well, but then there’s kind of this other guy, but I just met him last week and I don’t really know where that’s going . . .”

Seeing that her friends were totally lost, she pulled herself together. “Let me start over. About a month ago, I met—”

She was cut off by a loud knock at her front door.

Taylor held a finger up to Val and Kate. “Hold that thought for a second while I get this.”

As she headed into the living room, she overheard Kate mumble to Val, “Hold what thought? I haven’t understood a word she’s said yet.”

Taylor unlocked her front door and opened it. Before she could react, Jason barreled right in, all fired up.

“Where have you been?? I tried calling you—is your cell phone off? I need you to tell me who the hell I can sue. I just met with Marty—we got back the mock-ups for the new publicity posters the studio’s going to use to promote Inferno .”

Jason stormed into the kitchen, so engrossed in his rant he didn’t notice Valerie and Kate. He opened Taylor’s fridge and helped himself to a bottled water.

“And get this,” he fumed angrily, “the dumbasses who designed the posters have me pictured in this scene where I’m putting out a fire with all these other firemen. But if you look at the poster from the side, the water from the hose of one of the other firefighters looks like it’s shooting right out of my crotch. And the best part is, they want to put this poster over the theater entrance for the premiere. I can just see it—” He gestured grandly to the air. “ ‘Come see Inferno! Get pissed on by Jason Andrews!’”

With that, he threw Taylor a wink. “It should be right up your alley.”

Finished with his rant, Jason took a sip of water. Then he finally noticed Kate and Val. He smiled charmingly.

“Oh. People. Hello.”

Kate and Val sat in silence at the table. They stared at the sight of this god, this ideal man of modern time, standing before them in all his glory.

In their friend’s kitchen.

Valerie began giggling nervously.

Kate held her martini glass aloft, still frozen in midair after Jason’s grand entrance.

“Taylor Donovan,” she whispered hoarsely. “What is this man doing in your kitchen?”

Jason tipped his Evian bottle. “Having a drink of water.”

Taylor threw him a look—he wasn’t exactly helping the situation. She turned to her friends to make the introductions. So much for easing slowly into the conversation.

“Kate, Val—I think you know Jason. Jason, this is Kate and Valerie, my friends from Chicago.”

Valerie jumped out of her chair, finally finding her voice. “You little shit!” She wagged her finger in Taylor’s face. “How could you not tell us this?”

Not waiting for an answer, Val rushed over to shake Jason’s hand, gushing effusively. “It’s so nice to meet you, Jason. I’m a big fan—I’ve seen every one of your movies. Like six times.”

Hearing that, Jason proudly folded his arms across his chest and shot Taylor a satisfied grin. “Told you,” he mouthed. Then he turned back to Valerie, who stared at him in a daze, still holding his hand.

“Thank you. That’s always nice to hear,” he said warmly. “So you two are friends of Taylor?”

Kate and Val managed mute nods.

“You’re visiting from Chicago, then?”

More nodding. Chicago, yes, uh-huh, whatever. We saw you naked in Overload.

Jason turned to Kate, trying to draw her out. “So what do you ladies have planned for tonight?”

Val and Kate shrugged, silly grins still plastered on their faces.

Taylor intervened, gently extracting Val’s hand from Jason’s. “I tried to get us reservations at Koi, but they were booked this whole weekend. We’ll come up with something else.”

At this, Jason rolled his eyes. He whipped out his cell phone, unable to suppress his smile. “You never cease to amaze me, Taylor.”

Despite herself, she felt her cheeks blushing.

Jason held Taylor’s gaze as he spoke into his phone. “Yeah, Marty, it’s me. Get me a table at Koi tonight. Party of . . .” He looked at her questioningly. “Is this a girls-only night, or are guys invited, too?”

“Oh my god, guys are so invited!” Valerie cried out, practically barreling Jason over in her excitement.

Over Val’s head, he looked at Taylor teasingly. “I guess that means you’re stuck with me again, Ms. Donovan.” He grinned at Valerie, to explain. “She thinks she hates me.”

He winked, as if to say they all knew the likelihood of that being true.

Twenty-two

THE GIRLS SCRAMBLED to get ready. As they rushed in and out of the bathroom, trying on various outfits (Val’s fifteen now came in very handy), Taylor’s friends demanded to know every detail of her relationship with Jason. So she told them.

How she couldn’t stand him when they first met.

How he was arrogant and rude, and how he insulted her on national television.

How she fought and fought and fought to get off the Andrews Project, but nobody at her firm had listened.

“And now?” Kate asked, sitting cross-legged on Taylor’s bed. They both were already dressed. Val, however, still fussed in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

“And now, I don’t know,” Taylor said, shrugging. “I guess I find him, you know, tolerable.”

“Tolerable.” Val turned around from the mirror. “You find Jason Andrews tolerable.”

“Well . . .” she hedged.

“Would you like to amend your answer, Taylor?” Kate asked in a sly lawyer’s tone.

Then she told her friends about Vegas, and how in a moment of alcohol-induced weakness (that was still her story and she was sticking to it), she and Jason had almost kissed. Until they were interrupted by a horde of screaming fans.

“Man, I hate when that happens,” Kate interjected. “Screaming hordes of fans ruin everything.”