“Maisy, what about this one? So pretty!” Angie showed me Ryan’s phone. She’d continued going through the dresses while Ryan and I bantered. It was a full-length chiffon gown with a bodice that resembled a halter top. It had beautiful crystal-and-silver beading not only on the bodice itself but also on the crew neckline, which almost looked like a giant, sparkling necklace. There were two delicate jeweled straps that crisscrossed in the back. It was the perfect mix of “I rock out” and “I’m a girl.”
Best of all? It was the same pale green as my eyes. I loved it. “This one. Tell them this one.”
Only a minute after he pressedSEND, there was a reply. “The designer, a woman named Erika Chang, is going to come by later tonight and do a fitting.”
We pulled up to the theater’s private entrance and ran past the waiting paparazzi to get inside. A man who introduced himself as Pablo gave Angie and me passes to wear. He said there would be a barbecue in the back of the theater at lunchtime, along with a craft-services table set up backstage. Then he told Ryan to follow him. Ryan kissed me too quickly, promised to see me soon, and was off.
“What now?” I asked Angie. I didn’t want to come across like some pathetic groupie. Even if Christa Harbinger had just walked by and I almost passed out from the thrill of seeing one of my idols in person.
“I’m worried that if we wander around backstage, we might piss off the wrong diva and get kicked out. I vote we sit out front and watch.”
We were not the only ones to do so. A lot of the people appeared to be journalists or bloggers, ready to share their experiences at the rehearsals and what the stars would be doing two nights from now.
A boy band was currently onstage, discussing the logistics of their set while their dancers stretched and gabbed. As they started their sound check, I turned to Angie.
“You never did tell me what happened with you and Fox last night.”
She kept her eyes trained on the stage, her mouth twisting. “We ended up staying at the restaurant until it closed, and they had to kick us out. Then he drove me home, and we stayed in the driveway all night, talking. I never realized how much we have in common. Or how much I enjoy hanging out with him.”
“Seriously? That’s amazing!”
She let herself smile. “He asked to see me again tonight. I said yes.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
“I guess some part of me feels bad. Like I’m betraying Hector, even though I know I’m not. Fox actually gets that. It makes it easier that he loved Hector, too.”
“I get to pick out my bridesmaid dress. You’re not sticking me in some neon-orange monstrosity.”
“Stop,” she said, nudging me with her arm. But she was still smiling.
The boy band finished, and five more acts ran through rehearsal. Some I knew better than others, but it was fun to get a behind-the-scenes look at the process.
I sat up straighter when Ryan finally came onstage. Even though I’d spent so much time with him, he still exuded that charisma and magnetism that made him impossible to ignore and resist. Like if the music thing hadn’t worked out for him and he’d become a long-distance truck driver, he’d have a different woman waiting for him at every truck stop.
Then Skyler Smith glided onstage. She was a tiny, curvaceous, platinum blonde and absolutely stunning. She looked like the kind of woman who got dressed every morning with the assistance of animated woodland creatures.
Skyler gave Ryan two air kisses. Which I was totally fine with.
Fine-ish with.
Then she wrapped her arm through his and stayed put, resting her head against his upper arm.
That was my bicep she was leaning on.
Jealousy just about crushed my windpipe.
“I always like when people carry their dogs around in their purses,” Angie said. “Makes it much easier to spot their crazy.”
I’d been so focused on how that ... that ... wannabe man-stealer was touching my boyfriend that I hadn’t even noticed her yappy Chihuahua in her oversize bag.
“Maisy? Are you okay?”
“Why is she hanging on my boyfriend?”
“I’m sure they’re just friends. It’s not something you need to care about.”
I did care. A hundred and crazy percent. Because if Skyler Smith didn’t control her whoremones and get away from my man, I was going to have to knock out America’s Sweetheart.