I was still watching him when the party planner came up to me, mortified, clearly worried I was one of those punitive celebrities who would end her career because of a mistake. She didn’t know that I honestly do not fucking care.

So now, instead of a fancy fete on a breezy June night, attended by guests with perfect hair and makeup, my party has devolved into this. The house smells like the sweaty cloud of Le Labo left over after a hot yoga class at One Down Dog. But the heat and the rain have lent a fun comradery to the evening: Women have put their Nine Zero One Salon–done hair into messy buns off their shoulders and the guys have rolled their sleeves up. Everyone’s drinking too much wine, so the vibe is actually better than it probably would have been.

It should be lovely.

Maybe it would be, if I didn’t give up on finding Grayson on the main floor, go upstairs, burst into my own bedroom, and find Grayson there with the costar of his latest Marvel movie.

I don’t even linger. I turn on my heel and leave, knowing he’ll follow me.

I storm to the sunroom, which is on the opposite end of the house from the party. Rain pelts the panes of glass all around us. The humidity reminds me of Florida.

“Can you please admit that you’re sleeping with Elsa?” I snap, as soon as the door is shut. “I don’t even care if you are. I just don’t want you to make an idiot out of me when I’m the last to know.”

“I’m not cheating on you.”

“You are!” I raise my voice. “I know you are! I’m not dumb, Grayson! You’re in the bedroom with her doing what, then? God. I mean, seriously, have a little respect for me.”

“No, Lana. Will you lower your voice?”

“Lower my—no! It’s my birthday and I can have a meltdown if I want to!”

“Lana.”

“Grayson,” I say, in a mocking, schoolyard tone.

“I’m Hitchcock.”

“Ex … cuse me?”

“In Spielberg’s new biopic, I’m going to play Hitchcock! I told you about it, remember?”

I stare at him blankly.

“I’m going to be Alfred Hitchcock. I got the part, babe!”

I blink a few times at the redirect. “What does that have to do with you in our bedroom with Elsa on my birthday?”

“I couldn’t talk about it in front of anyone!”

“So … why wouldn’t you have pulled me into the bedroom?”

He goes red. “Because they haven’t casted the Grace Kelly part yet and I think Elsa would be good for it.”

I roll my eyes at casted and then say, “You don’t think maybe I would be good for it?”