Chapter 2

The RV idled in the dark alleyway behind the Staples Center.

Katy pushed the door open. Her sneakers hit the wet asphalt. She pulled her black face mask up higher over her nose and walked into the shadows of the fire lane, searching for the hidden VIP entrance.

She pressed her shoulder against the damp brick wall. She moved slowly, hiding from the massive crowd of screaming fans gathered on the main street.

Her personal phone vibrated violently in her pocket. The sharp, obnoxious ringtone echoed off the brick walls.

Katy flinched. Her heart leaped into her throat. She dug her hand into her pocket and yanked the phone out, desperate to silence it.

The screen glowed in the dark. The name 'Rex Vance' flashed across the glass.

Katy's jaw clenched. A wave of pure disgust rolled through her stomach.

She wanted to hit decline. But Rex was a loose cannon. If she ignored him, he would run to the tabloids and make up a story. She pressed her thumb against her index finger, digging the nail into her skin, and answered the call.

"What do you want, Rex?" she snapped.

"Someone sounds grumpy," Rex's arrogant, mocking voice poured through the speaker.

He didn't waste time. He immediately brought up the box office numbers for her latest indie film. He laughed, the sound dripping with malicious joy over her failure.

Katy let out a cold laugh. She didn't hesitate. She brought up the photos leaked last month of him stumbling out of a nightclub with two different women.

The line went dead silent. Katy could hear his heavy, angry breathing. She had hit the nerve.

Rex cleared his throat. His voice dropped lower, taking on a smug, secretive tone.

"I just got my VIP pass for the Hollywood Gala tomorrow night," Rex bragged.

Katy rolled her eyes in the dark. "Congratulations. You finally begged your way into a room full of people who hate you. I'm hanging up."

"Arther Knowles is the surprise guest," Rex said quickly.

Katy stopped breathing.

The brick wall against her back suddenly felt freezing cold. Her brain completely flatlined. The insult she had ready died on her tongue.

Her hand gripped the phone so hard her knuckles ached. Her lungs refused to expand.

"Hello? Katy?" Rex laughed. "Are you jealous you won't be in the same room as the Best Actor?"

Katy snapped back to reality. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. The sharp pain grounded her. She forced her vocal cords to relax.

"I don't care about fake social events," Katy said. Her voice was perfectly flat. "And I certainly don't care who attends them."

She pulled the phone away from her ear and hit the red button. She shoved the phone deep into her pocket.

She looked left. She looked right. The alley was empty.

Katy's knees buckled. She slid down the wet brick wall and crouched on the dirty ground.

She pressed both hands over her mouth. Her shoulders shook violently. She screamed into her palms, the sound completely muffled by her hands.

Arther was going to the Gala. She could see her husband. In public. Tomorrow night.

Katy shot up from the ground. The fear in her posture vanished. Her spine straightened.

She pulled out her work phone. She dialed her agent, Julian Croft.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Get me a ticket to the Gala tomorrow night," Katy ordered.

"What?" Julian sounded completely lost. "Katy, you explicitly told me yesterday to reject the invitation. You said you hated the organizers."

"I changed my mind," Katy lied smoothly. "I just heard Anna from Vogue is going to be there, and she's actively scouting for the September issue cover. I am not letting Isabella snatch that spot. Get me a seat at the front."

Julian sighed heavily into the phone. "Fine. I'll call them. But you owe me."

Katy hung up. She took a deep breath of the damp alley air. She adjusted the brim of her hat.

She walked out of the shadows and merged into the massive sea of screaming fans, heading straight for the ticket gates.