A wave of sadness washed over her as she thought of her family back in Ohio, and she shook her head as though the action would help rid her of the negative emotion. She turned her attention back to the task at hand. The dress was relatively modest, sitting just below the knee and without even a hint of cleavage on show, but the shimmering red material contrasted perfectly with her pale skin and long dark hair. Just right for date night. It was Saturday evening, she was heading to a cool bar in Hollywood to meet a guy, and she had to look like she’d made an effort.

She shoved the dress back in the closet between two sweaters.

But not too much of an effort.

“I really wish you wouldn’t go.”

Amy jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She spun around to see her roommate, Kasey Taylor, sitting on the edge of one of the two single beds that took up most of the space in their small bedroom. She was pulling agitatedly at a loose thread on the bedcover. It was Kasey’s tell, fidgeting with stuff when she was anxious.

“Shit.” Amy laughed. She held a hand to her chest, where her heart pumped furiously beneath her trembling fingers. “I didn’t hear you come into the room. You almost scared me half to death.”

Kasey didn’t return the smile. She looked at Amy with a worried expression. “It’s not too late to cancel.”

A pretty blonde with girl-next-door looks, Kasey was studying theatre and dance and had already appeared in a couple of commercials for a well-known tampon brand, but Amy knew her best friend’s concern wasn’t an act.

She turned back to the closet. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” Kasey said. “All you have to do is pick up your cell and send a text. You know, something along the lines of ‘Not going to make it tonight. Or ever. Don’t contact me again, loser.’”

“I don’t have his cell phone number.”

“So stand him up.”

“I can’t.”

Amy picked out tight blue jeans and a white tank top and threw them onto her own bed. Then she bent down and fished out a pair of gold strappy sandals from the bottom of the closet. She dropped her bathrobe to the floor, wriggled into the jeans, and pulled the tank top over her head, combing her fingers through her hair. As she sat on her bed to fasten the sandals, she could feel Kasey’s gaze on her.

Eventually her friend spoke. “Look, I’ve got another commercial in a few weeks. The pet food one. I could—”