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ring.
    “Hey, Sunshine. I was just thinking about you.” His voice coos into my ear, everything I ever want to hear. But I’m too livid to care.
    “You’re right, it’s not enough,” I seethe into the phone, gripping it so tightly it creaks under the pressure.
    “Whoa! What are you talking about?”
    I dip into the alley between the gym and a café for some privacy.
    “I can’t do this. I can’t be the other woman. Heather is never going to let this happen, regardless of what she may tell you.”
    “No, she’s cool with it. Heather couldn’t care less who I’m sleeping with. You’re giving her way too much control over this situation.”
    “Oh, am I? Then tell me, why the hell is she wearing my panties on the front page of TMI?”
    “What?” he asks, his voice going flat with disbelief.
    “Oh yeah, pull it up. You’ll see.” I pace, rage and fire up a cigarette while I wait.
    “Fuck me,” Devon whispers when he sees what she’s done.
    “How the hell did she even get them?” I snarl, spewing cigarette smoke between my teeth.
    “The maids? Hell, I don’t know, maybe she bought some.”
    “Bullshit. This isn’t a coincidence. Heather would never wear bright purple panties. She is totally playing with me.”
    “Exactly, she’s playing with you. Heather doesn’t give a fuck about me. She’s competitive as hell and beyond bored. Don’t let her tricks get to you.”
    “Too late. I can’t do this. I refuse to be the other woman. Find a way to get rid of her, Devon. I mean it. Or I’m done.” I throw my hand in the air, hating the words, but knowing it’s the only way. Heather will never let us be happy, and until Devon finds a way out from under her thumb, I refuse to stick around and suffer this abuse.
    “But, Carly, I love you.” He says this like it should be the only thing that matters. It twists my heart like a vice, but it reinforces my decision.
    “And I love you. But Heather isn’t my problem to solve.” I hang up before he has the opportunity to change my mind. I lean against the alley wall, sliding down it until my butt hits pavement and my head falls onto my knees. Fuck my life. For every single step forward, I take a million back.

Chapter Nine
    If I looked any hotter, I’d replace James Franco’s fine ass on that famous Gucci billboard overlooking Sunset. The backless black silk jumper I’m wearing is to die for. It’s elegant, understated and sexy—everything I’m supposed to be—beyond fuckable, and totally unattainable. Strings were pulled to get me a same-day appointment with L.A.’s most sought-after stylist. My balayage highlights are on point and the thousand-dollar hair extensions flowing down my back are so buttery soft I can’t keep my hands off them.
    We’re three stories above the Pacific Ocean. Booze cruising the Malibu coast on the late Vincent Hugo’s favorite toy. It’s either an insane display of his wealth and power or the biggest compensation purchase ever. Considering how much ass Spence gets, I’m pretty sure small dicks don’t run in the family.
    “I’m excited to see your movies, Miss Klein. I’ve heard your work is outstanding.” A man I’ve never seen in my life approaches Spence and me. We’re standing in the center of the party, everyone milling around us like we’re a centerpiece. He leans in for an air kiss and I can’t help but return the gesture. Kissing strangers like they’re my besties is the theme of the night.
    “That’s very kind. I hope you enjoy what you see.” Charm and grace drip from every pore. Because that’s who I have to be. The man turns to Spence.
    “Mr. Hugo.” He clasps Spence in a strong handshake like they’re old college buddies. They lean together. The man whispers into Spence’s ear. They pause, then erupt into laughter. Spence is still chuckling when he walks away.
    “Who was that?”
    “The president of the Academy.”
    “What did he say?”
    Spence shakes his head and takes a sip of