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Authors: Andrea Wolfe

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BOOK: Haze
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Dan's body's language immediately
screamed
, his shoulders tightening up, his arms crossing against his chest like a bouncer. "Whoa, dude, chill out. I was just
playing
. I don't care what the hell you two are doing."

Something finally clicked in Stacy because she looked distraught. Jack butted in again before she could say anything else.

"It didn't sound like you were playing," Jack said, "and you were being fucking rude to Effie here."

For some reason, it actually appeared to be helping. Jack was delivering a verbal beating, one that seemed to be knocking Dan's ideas right out of circulation. Jack wasn't lying or making up stories to cover our asses, just defending me from undue, inappropriate attention.

Stacy stood there, ruminating. "God, will you two calm down, please?"

I didn't know whose side she was actually taking. She seemed to be trapped between the two men, her long-term friend and her former boyfriend. But just because Dan was her old friend didn't mean she would take his side over the man she actually dated.

"Yeah, Jack. Just relax, man." Dan was trying to be diplomatic, but from my perspective, he couldn't be redeemed, not now. Not ever. It was too obvious that he was only trying to be nice because his job required it of him.

"Well, I think we need to be going. It was so nice meeting you,
Dan
," Jack said promptly. "It's a real shame we never met prior to this magic moment."

"Jack, seriously, man. It was just a joke. MCI loves you. I don't know shit about the girl you're with."

"I'm sure." Jack punctuated his sentence with a nod. "I'll let them know that their shitty A&R guy who ran into me at a party convinced me to take Lexy Brown elsewhere. You'll be real popular around the offices."

Whoa
. This had heated up fast. Dan looked like he wanted to punch Jack, but obviously realized that Jack had
something he wanted
. Well, that his company wanted. A successful transaction would obviously benefit him as well. Jack had the upper hand and he had successfully changed the path of things.

Dan's eyes gave me one more look, a look that felt creepy and scummy and everything else that was a synonym for uncomfortable or uncalled for. "I'm
gonna go, Stacy. Have fun with your
friends
." He turned and disappeared into the crowd before we could say anything else.

Stacy immediately turned to Jack. "What the hell was that all about?"

"Can we sit down, please?" I asked, feeling lightheaded and weak. I pointed toward the chairs by the pool that was essentially just a nice decoration since no one was swimming. It was an area clear of drama and semi-private.

After sitting down in a semi-circle together, Jack began explaining what had happened.

"Fuck." Stacy stared down at the sunlight reflecting in the pool. "I didn't know I wasn't supposed to say anything."

I instantly defended her, my mind cooled down from before. "You couldn't have known. It's just...
messy. I try not to bring it up."

"God, of all the people we could have run into, it had to be him."

"I hate to say it, Stace, but he's kind of an asshole."

She shrugged. "Yeah. He's close to my family, though, so there isn't much I can do about it." She ran her hand through her hair, pulling the loose strands from her face. "Did you mean what you were saying back there?"

Yeah, I really wanted to know that as well...

He laughed. "I was just talking out of my ass. Trying to scare him." His glorious green eyes met mine. "Effie, don't sweat it, please. I don't want this to ruin your first visit to Hollywood." Jack's fingers
lightly stroked the nape of my neck, the sensation instantly calming, as irrational as
calm
felt.

"Yeah, all right," I said weakly. I looked over at Stacy, trying to gauge her response to all of this. Her face was neutral, her features accentuated by the light of the sun. No matter what Jack said, I'd never stop believing Stacy was far prettier than me. I mean, when she walked down red carpets, the flash bulbs sounded like machine gun fire.

I realized that I had successfully suppressed the recent tension with Sam, the divorce stuff, the dying company drama, and
that
was what made this all worse. "I want to talk to you about it all later, though."

"On the plane ride back tomorrow, okay? Let's just try to have fun while we're here." He gave me the most optimistic look I'd ever seen. I could barely explain
why
it looked optimistic, but that didn't matter.
I felt it.

"Effie, I'm so sorry. I hope everything turns out all right." Stacy obviously felt horrible about what had happened, and I knew what that felt like. I had done the exact sort of thing before and actually lost a friend over it.

I paused, allowing the words to digest slowly. I glanced around at the world I was in, the strange universe I was currently a part of. Seth Rogen popped up in the background, and that only made everything weirder. To my right, Jack, my rich, handsome, protective boyfriend. To my left, his ex, my favorite actor, an inspiring woman in my life. Combined, they had more talent that the rest of Hollywood combined—at least in my eyes.

Making decisions wasn't easy right now, not when I was here. I couldn't worry about this, not now. I couldn't chastise Stacy because she just didn't know. On top of that, she had been drunk, same as me, just trying to have a good time at this petty, superficial event.

"Okay," Jack said, piping in, "we're all going to go out to dinner and then we're going to go to the club at the hotel. It's going to be mindless fun. God knows we all need it."

"I have to be on a plane to Chicago early tomorrow morning, though," Stacy said.

"You can sleep on the plane, can't you?" I asked, trying to encourage her participation. I wanted to wipe the tension away, to start anew with her after the incident.

She looked at me and smiled, a response that would have been blog-entry-worthy had I not already known her. "Okay, I'll go out for a little bit at least. You convinced me."

"Okay. Can we get the hell out of here now?" Jack asked.

"Sure. I'll say a couple of goodbyes and then we'll go." She walked off into the crowd.

Jack stood up with me and put his arm around my back, leading me around the house toward the front. I didn't need to think hard about any of this. Normally, this sort of arrangement—guy and girl hanging out with guy's ex girlfriend—would have been problematic. Look at what happened with Timothy and me...

But no, Stacy was not your run-of-the-mill ex-girlfriend. She was the ex-girlfriend worth hanging out with, the ex worth knowing, without a doubt.

And the thing with Dan would probably turn out just fine. I didn't need to be so paranoid. Tomorrow, Jack would assuage me with his knowledge and sensibility, his ability to simplify and act. I would voice my concerns and everything would be okay by the time we arrived in NYC.

All of this was making me reconsider my goals, however. I didn't know what I wanted them to be anymore—Dan being an asshole record label employee definitely didn't help my perception of the business—but I had time to think about that later.

Couldn't I just find another job if I lost the one at MCI? It was a huge city, so there had to be plenty of jobs available. Yet, the more I tried to convince myself it would be okay, the more overwhelming that prospect seemed.

Relax, Effie.

By the time Stacy met us up front, the limo had already arrived.

Chapter 16

We grabbed sushi at a semi-famous place, one where framed celebrity photos and autographs were pinned to the wall.

"Do you have one up there, Jack?" I asked.

He laughed. "No. But Stacy does." My vision followed his finger to a photo of Stacy smiling with the head sushi chef, her autograph decorating the bottom of the photo. I was surprised that I hadn't noticed it prior to him drawing attention to it.

"Hey, it was for a charity thing," she said awkwardly. "I know
you
don't get hounded for that stuff, Jack, but it's hard to say no without looking like an asshole."

"It's fine by me," I said supportively. "Good for you."

"See, at least someone cares," Stacy laughed, and it made me feel good about the whole lame exchange.

The sushi was great, and nobody bothered us while we ate. Then again, we had somewhat of a private booth away from the regular tables at Jack's request. I had some kind of super spicy 'dynamite' roll, one that Jack kept eying hungrily.

"Why didn't you just get it yourself?" I asked. "I'm not giving any of it up."

"He's always stupid about sushi," Stacy added.

"God, you guys are jerks," Jack said, quietly sipping his sake.

It was a good time.

After we were done eating, we headed back to the Roosevelt to go to Teddy's. Even though it was definitely a hipster hotspot, it was said to be a real taste of Hollywood nightlife.

"I don't love this place," Jack said. "I'll say that up front."

Stacy concurred. "Me either."

"Well, we can skip it, I guess," I mumbled quietly, hoping no one would take my suggestion, but adding to the conversation anyway. Teddy's—for me at least—was intended to be more of a distraction than anything else since I really wanted to come back to Los Angeles as soon as possible and experience even more.

"But," Jack said, pausing to ramp up the suspense, "it's a good introductory place. And I don't
hate
it. Samantha Ronson used to DJ here."

"Wait, who is she again?" I asked, her name instantly evoking a very blurry memory of something.

"There was all that shit about her and Lindsay Lohan. Someone was supposedly a bad influence on the other. Typical stuff here."

"I've met Lindsay a few times," Stacy interjected quietly. "She's really talented, but she's lost her focus."

Jack and I both nodded, our Lindsay Lohan knowledge already exhausted—and ready to enjoy ourselves.

The inside was great, the space filled with all sorts of attention-grabbing, stylish eye candy. Beautiful chandeliers hung from the ceiling, overlooking the fun that was taking place down below. It was dim and sexy, dark enough that you didn't have to feel self-conscious—but not so much that you fell over because you couldn't see where you were going.

Lights pulsed with music, the crowd was tireless and enthusiastic. The soundtrack was a blend of techno and Top 40, a combination I was okay with. Jack grabbed us all some drinks—I never really liked dancing while holding a glass or bottle, so I would drink
fast
—and then we prepared to have fun.

I'm not going to lie, I wasn't usually one for going out to clubs like this. Jack had joked about it early on, speaking of his party past like it was something that he was ashamed of or had totally outgrown.

But something told me I just needed to embrace this weird scenario, to take the plunge and go for it. I hated to keep harping on the same redundant fact—yes, I was hanging out with Stacy Levons in Los Angeles and I couldn't believe it as usual—but damn, everything felt fresh and new when you added an element like that. There was no other way to describe it.

On top of that, it baffled me that I hadn't even considered the fact that Jack might have brought me to meet Stacy. I mean, even when we had arrived in Los Angeles and I had been elated to just be within the city limits, I hadn't considered it at all.

We danced and danced, all three of us, for what seemed like hours. I wasn't checking my cell phone, wasn't concerned about any worldly thing. After the incident today at the party, it was exactly what I needed. The dancing was a perfect catharsis, a full purge of my neurotic, panicked state.

Jack was goofy and charming on the dance floor—oh God, and it made everything far more fun than it should have been—always impressing us with a new move after we assumed we'd seen it all. He was totally uninhibited, and it only made me more comfortable with my own awkward dancing. Well, I felt awkward dancing most of the time, anyhow.

"There's no right or wrong way to dance," Jack had said, real wisdom for the ages. It was as if he had sensed my initial apprehension.

And even cooler than that, Stacy didn't feel like a third wheel at all. There were no awkward dynamics or anything else. I danced with her sometimes, I danced with Jack other times, and we all danced together most of the time. It was hot and sweaty and loud, but that was just what I needed.

Although I wasn't sure of the exact time when Stacy left, it seemed like she stuck around longer than she had planned originally. It made me feel good to know that perhaps she had had fun in my presence. She was also an actor, so maybe she was just acting—but it felt real to me.

We screamed our goodbyes to her, deciding to remain on our own for a short while after she departed. She waved as the crowd scattered enough to let her through. If anyone had paid attention, they probably would have been begging her for an autograph. I was somewhat surprised to see that not everyone was attacked at all times by screaming fans.

BOOK: Haze
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