Page 307 of Rush

Behind me, Riley makes a strangled noise into her drink—like she’s just had an orgasm by proximity.

And Ava stifles a giggle.

I smile, trying not to fumble over my words. “Same could be said for you. But you probably already know that.”

Be cool, Elena.

He laughs, low and warm. “You staying in town?”

“Um…yeah. I’m presenting at the Oscars, actually.”

“Good.” His grin sharpens. “I’ll be in touch—if you’d like.”

I’m too stunned to speak or answer before Mark appears, like he’s been summoned from the ceiling, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“Sorry, bud—gotta steal her. Business calls.”

Ava gives me ago get ‘emsmirk as Mark leads me back through the crowd.

“Meet David and Dani,” he says. “They both worked on some killer albums last year. Pacific’s already talking about the next record, and they want to start early.”

“Already?” I ask, my heart still half-beating from the interaction with Julian.

“That’s how the game works.” Dani reassures me. “Strike while the iron’s hot.”

It feels good to think about work. To celebrate something concrete. To focus on anything other than the mess of my love life.

Hours pass in ten-second bursts.

At some point, Riley dances on a couch with Ava, both clutching mini champagne bottles, screaming the lyrics to “Crumble” at full volume. I lean against the wall, letting the cool seep into my back, finally catching my breath.

My phone buzzes inside my purse.

Alex.

Why would he be calling me now? A part of me wants to answer, but Philippa’s words echo in my head—I hit ignore.

I’m going to need more fucking boxes.

A week passesafter the Grammys, and it’s official.

Broderick is done with me.

No calls. No messages. No congratulations. Not even a double-tap on the photo of me holding the Grammy.

I made my choice. I left him standing in the wake of his grand gesture, and now I have to live with it.

This is my fault—my stupid foolish heart.

I want to call. I want to fix it. But the unanswered voicemails tell me everything I need to know.

Space.

Rather than wallow in the hotel room, Riley and I fill the week with anything and everything that might distract us. Our first time in Tinseltown—we might as well make it count.

I try to keep my mind off Broderick. It doesn’t work. If I’m not sobbing quietly in bed, I’m doing it in the shower.

We spend our days hiking Runyon and our nights partying with Ava—either at her place or at the Chateau Marmont. I’m constantly stunned by the celebrities we brush shoulders with.