Yes, the future Bond, James Bond, texted me the morning after a premiere—and after-party—that I basically weaseled my way into and drank too much at. Texted to check up on me and give me his cure for a hangover.

Eat a big breakfast, he tells me. No caffeine. Lots of water.

It’s very sweet.

Somehow, I’m able to roll myself out of bed and sit upright at my computer. My intention, of course, is to write this article.

Before I can—there’s another text from Gabe.

If you’re free, I’m having a party tonight.

If I’m free.

I’ve never been more free in my life.

I spend the rest of the day hydrating and telling my reflection that we are not allowed any drinks. Of any kind.

Reader, I’m sure it won’t surprise you to learn that these pep talks amounted to bubkes in the face of a celebrity’s house party and an open bar.

Let me set the scene for you.

There’s the aforementioned open bar. There’s a beautiful backyard with a pool and hot tub. It is filled with equally beautiful people. Yes, it’s December, but it’s also California and the pool is heated. I can see the steam floating off it from where I’m standing in the living room waiting for the next round of Running Pyramid to start.

That’s right. Running Pyramid.

I’m not good at games.

I’m not good at running games. I’m not good at word games. I’m not good at games.

You will not be surprised to learn that Gabe is very, very good at Running Pyramid.

You may be surprised, however, to learn that this is usually how his house parties go. Not the booze-soaked, endless orgies of Hollywood lore. Nope, instead, we all take turns running from room to room, reading prompts off a list and trying to get our teammates to guess correctly with a few choice words.

I was assured that it would be easier with a drink under my belt.

That might be true for some, but I tried it, and trust me, it did not get any easier. I’d like to share with you stories of how actors like Oliver Matthias and designers like Margot Rivera killed at this game, but unfortunately, after only one drink on very little sleep, I completely passed out.

In Gabe’s dog bed.

I don’t remember much of the rest of the evening, but I do know that at some point, Gabe himself lifted me up and out of the dog bed, and carried me into his guest room. Where he tucked me in and left me to sleep off the second drunken night we’d spent together.

The evening didn’t end there.