Kieran handed it over and she inhaled until her head spun. “I’ll go change. Could you please bring me a vodka red bull?”

“Of course.” They kissed her cheek. “See you soon.”

Alone in the dressing room, Eden sipped her alcoholic energy drink. She’d had a lot of them tonight. She remembered an article about a chick who had too many Jägerbombs and died. Was she going to die?

Don’t be stupid.

Even if her heart was fucked, she needed the energy. Kieran’s people would want to talk and she still had to see Willow. She’d tried not to stare into the crowd more than usual, but she’d spotted his outline among the dancers. He’d come to see her.

As she reapplied her concealer, she saw her pupils were wide and her heart was pounding like a drum. Nerves that had nothing to do with caffeine. When had she last been this excited to see a guy?

The answer was a slap across the cheek. Orchestra. Her school dress brushing her knees, his beautiful fingers and shiny red Audi.

Enough.

She stood, heading for the door. This Willow thing didn’t matter, she needed to get back out there and do her job. Kieran’s people turned out to be a Men’s Magazine Executive and some indie rock producer from the Netherlands. Neither of them was a particularly useful contact, but she knew better than to be rude. Minutes ticked by while they chatted and Kieran excused themselves to go outside and smoke.

The producer touched a hand to her side. “Shall I order us a bottle of champagne, Bunny-Girl?”

Eden wished with her whole heart that Cheryl or Andy was around to buffer her from this goon. But if they were out with her all the time, they’d never go home.

“Bunny-Girl?”

She smiled sweetly at the producer. “I have to go see someone. Back in a minute!”

The guy looked annoyed, but he let her go. She’d learned if you never actually said goodbye, thirsty dudes couldn’t lay a guilt trip on you. And industry people were weird, they tended to respect you more if you didn’t drink with them. Hopefully, Willow felt the same way because it was nearly three in the morning. She entered the main section of the club, scanning for red hair.

“Descent!” A girl in a green headband pulled her into her arms as though they’d known each other their whole lives. “You were amazing! Oh my god, I love you!”

She smelled like sugary perfume and alcohol and her skin was scorching hot. Eden pulled back, her overworked heart kicking like a mule. “Um, hello?”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! Did I scare you?”

“A little,” Eden said, feeling silly. “Nice to meet you.”