“To be fair, I didn’t mean to insult you,” he says as he slips the hotel keys into his back pocket and hands me Jess’s VIP badge. “I just don’t want to see you throw away her career. And don’t have any hard feelings about her not giving you her number. Unlike her costar, who seems to enjoy chatting with strangers on the phone, Jess has had a much different experience.”

“Stalker?”

“Well, let’s say that someone found her number and put it up on an unsavory message board, so…”

My eyebrows fly up in surprise. “Eesh.” He hands me the badge and I slip it on over my head. “Okay so we have everything, but I think we forgot to…”

He picks up the bag with the wig from the bed and holds it out to me. I can now see that there’s also a satin pouch—a contact lens case? “You know how to put on a wig, right?”

“I’ve dabbled in cosplay,” I say, then I make a face. “I hate long hair.”

“Jess has it, so you do, too.”

“Can’t Jess shave her head?” I ask. “I’ll shave mine in solidarity—”

“No. Now go.” He points to the bathroom, checking his smartwatch in the process. “Hurry up. We should probably be at the con by one at the latest.”

“You’re one of those on-time-is-late people, aren’t you?”

“You’re one of those always-late people, aren’t you?”

“I’m mostly on time,” I mutter as I trudge into the bathroom and lock the door. I’m beginning to regret signing up for this scheme. I’m not sure what I thought it would be like—that I’d magically morph into Jessica Stone? Moon Prism Power Make Up and throw some glitter and just…be a celebrity? Don’t be ridiculous, I chide myself.

I start with the contacts first. I hate contacts. Fortunately, I’ve worn them enough for cosplays so I don’t need hours to put them in but, starflame!, that’s going to take some getting used to. It’s like condoms for my eyeballs.

Remember why you’re doing this, I think to myself as I blink the lenses into focus. You’re doing it to save Amara and—who knows?—maybe even Jessica Stone’s career.

True, I did not expect a sorta hot but bossy Slytherin (I still think he’s a burnt Hufflepuff) to hover over me like a helicopter parent the whole time, but I think there’s a way to fix that.

One thing at a time.