I told her my phone number and then she opened the car door. I went with her through a couple of security checkpoints, and it seemed as if none of the guards were too pleased about me being listed as Noah Douglas’s guest. They hadn’t been given a name, and they kept checking my driver’s license. Which I didn’t understand, because the word guest wasn’t going to magically morph into my name if they looked at my ID often enough.

But we got inside and it was like a whole other glitzy, glamorous world. It was dark and it took my eyes a second to adjust. There was also music playing, and several people were on the dance floor already. Thankfully it wasn’t too loud and allowed people to still have conversations. There were waiters wearing white tuxedo jackets circulating with champagne flutes, and a large bar to provide whatever other kinds of drinks people wanted. To one side there were dining tables set up with crisp linen cloths, and on the other there were soft-looking padded benches and sofas. It was all sleek and modern with different-colored lights flashing from the walls.

Everywhere I looked there was one famous person after another. It was like I’d walked into my favorite movie. Or all my favorite movies put together. Brad Pitt smiled at me as he walked by, and although he was old enough to be my dad, it did make me feel a little light-headed.

Morgan stuck to my side, asking if I wanted something to eat or drink.

But surprisingly enough, my almost constant dull roar of an appetite had gone totally silent. My stomach was still upset over what had happened to Noah with that fan. “No, I’m good. But thank you!” I wondered whether she was going to babysit me until Noah arrived. Which made me feel a little ridiculous, as she seemed to be about my age, if not younger.

“Okay, I’m going to grab some food. Do you want to wait here for me?” she asked.

I kept surveying the crowd and saw Zoe Covington. “I see someone I know. I’ll be over there. Thanks!”

As I made my way over to Zoe, it suddenly struck me how presumptuous I was being. She might want to be alone with her husband or had other friends she wanted to chat with, and I was about to insert myself into their lives.

So I stopped, unsure of what to do, but Zoe saw me and waved me over.

When I got closer to her, I realized that her face looked pained. “Are you okay?” I asked.