“Well, you look great. I know I suggested a professional blow-dry and glam, but you don’t need it. You’ve got the talent to handle things yourself.” Cassidy’s smile helped Sasha relax despite the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of spending time with Xander.

“I don’t want him to think I’m that girl anymore,” she said. The one who cared so much about appearances and making it in Hollywood that she made the wrong choices and hurt people in the process.

Cassidy leaned against the doorframe, her head tipped to one side as she studied Sasha. “I met that girl and now she’s my best friend. Do you really think that would have happened if there was something wrong with how you behaved? Or dressed? Or…” She stepped all the way into the room. “I think you’re too hard on yourself about how and why things ended between the two of you.”

Sasha frowned. “Maybe. Maybe not. But the fact remains, I’m more centered now.” She trusted her own judgment a lot more than she ever had and did her best not to let other people influence her decisions.

Her cell rang and she picked it up off the bed, staring at the word Mom on the screen. As if Annika Keaton knew her daughter had been thinking about her.

“Ignore it,” Cassidy said, aware of how insistent Sasha’s mother could be.

Not manipulative per se. Annika just thought she knew what was best for Sasha based on her own mistakes.

Sasha shook her head. “She’ll just keep calling.” She picked up her cell and accepted the call. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. How’s New York?”

“Great. The hotel is so much fun. It’s decorated so beautifully. High ceilings in the suite, bay windows, and Cassidy has an attached room. It’s all good.”

Her mother talked about how she’d filmed as an extra in Manhattan before changing the subject to the one Sasha had been dreading. “So have you talked to him?”

Sasha sighed. “Yes, Mother, I’ve spoken to Xander. We’re meeting up soon to discuss the character I’ll be playing, and before you ask anything else, further questions are off-limits.”

There was no way she could focus and do her job if her mother kept calling to remind her to be careful, not to make the same errors she had.

“I’m just looking out for you,” her mom said.

“I appreciate it, but I don’t need you to worry. I’m an adult and I know what I’m doing. And now I need to go or I’m going to be late. I love you and I’ll talk to you soon.”

“But–”

“Bye, Mom.” Sasha disconnected the call, tossed the cell onto the comforter, and met Cassidy’s gaze. “Well, that was fun.”

Her friend laughed. “You’ve learned to handle her well.”