Read Online Hollywood Nights by Sara Celi - Free Book Online Page A

sunglasses when he saw me walk into the back yard. “Looks like it.”
    “I had trouble choosing.” I patted the garment bag. “But I think this one will do.”
    “And you didn’t have any problems using my card?”
    “They seemed to know you pretty well at Barneys.”
    He laughed once. “They do. And what about your phone?”
    I held up a different plastic bag. “Verizon was happy to oblige me in the purchase of a new iPhone. Already set it up with Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Snapchat.”
    “Good.” Tanner nodded at me a few times. “The party starts at eight, so I’m thinking we’ll leave here around eight fifteen. Don’t want to get there too early.”
    Three hours later, I reemerged from the pool house in the black dress. I had to admit I liked what I saw in the bathroom mirror—the entire ensemble made me appear skinnier, and the outfit would stand up to anything else I encountered; no one had to tell me that.
    I found Tanner in the main house, nursing a short glass of thick, brown liquor
    “Maybe I should drive,” I said.
    He looked up from the glass. “Nonsense. We have James to take us, remember?” Then he broke into a wide grin. “Nice outfit.”
    I turned around to show off the entire designer ensemble. “You know, I can spend some money when given the chance.”
    “I’ll have to remember that.” Tanner grabbed his cell phone off the kitchen counter. “Let’s go.”
     
     
     
    I’d seen parties like this before, but they always happened with me standing on the outside, watching people prettier and more successful than me living a better life on the inside. More than once, I’d walked out of Twisted and heard music coming from the nightclub across the street, or saw traces of a red carpet and loads of security in front of one of the buildings a few doors down. These kinds of parties wound up with full page spreads in LA Weekly and all over various lifestyle Instagram accounts hyper-focused on posting the most gorgeous shots of the life only a few people lived.
    But when the Mercedes pulled up to Katsuna’s entrance, I wasn’t on the outside anymore. I was on the inside. Just like that.
    “I’ll come around to the passenger door and help you out of the car,” Tanner said when the car stopped. “Wait for me, and whatever you do, no matter what anyone says to you, smile demurely and act shy.”
    “Got it.”
    “Think of this as one big role. Tonight’s scene one: A new romance blossoms.”
    “Sounds like the title of a bad romance novel.”
    He winked at me, got out of the car without another word, and made his way to the passenger side while he buttoned his sports jacket. The kind of car exit that could have been in a slick car commercial.
    I took a deep breath. Showtime.

 
     

     
    A fter seven years in Hollywood, I had learned one big lesson: go big. Go big and go bold. It was the only way to make fame stick around. And I didn’t want her to leave. Fame made me rich. Powerful. Fame could also be one alluring, promising, cold-hearted bitch.
    I fed her anyway.
    I waved at a few of the shouting photographers and opened the passenger side of the town car. Behind me, shutters clicked a dozen times a minute as freelancers and tabloid journalists rushed to get the perfect shot of me, my ass, and the woman who stepped out of the car one red-bottomed Louboutin pump at a time.
    I took Brynn’s hand and muttered, “You okay?”
    “Absolutely.”
    Brynn pasted on a tight smile, and showcased her rows of gleaming white teeth. Together, we walked down a small, plush red carpet to an awaiting step-and-repeat where we’d pose for more official photos. Sponsorship logos for Red Queen Bourbon, Katsuna, LA Unlimited , and FaceIt! Makeup decorated the placards. As Brynn and I posed together in the center of the display, photographers shouted questions our way.
    “Tanner, who’s the brunette?”
    “Is that your new assistant, or the mystery woman you were seen with last week at