Miranda noticed me admiring her ring. “You like my droolery? Don’t you love the ring? When we got married, Brian gave me a tiny, tiny ring. It only would have been worse if it had been a marquis cut.” The thought of this was so ridiculous it made her throw her head back and cackle. “This was a present after Green Eggs and Ham made four hundred million. And believe me, after what having three kids did to my body, I deserve every carat.”

She turned to Troy. “Do you like the house, honey? You with the architectural eye?” Mrs. turned to include me in their conversation. “We’ve finally gotten through the work here. You should have seen it when we moved in. I refused to stay here with all that dust, so we rented up at Tigertail for over a year. It’s great to finally be home.”

Suddenly she was distracted, or maybe she was faking it. With another squeeze of Troy’s hand, she moved on to greet some bigger names. Troy and I got our drinks. I felt silly sticking so close to him; I felt like one of those “helicopter girls,” always hovering over her date.

“Are you going to be okay if I break away for a sec?” Troy asked. “I see my actress I have to deal with.”

“Sure, no problem, I’m fine.” Troy was turning away into the crowd of incredibly sleek physiques before I even got the sentence out.

I was hoping I didn’t look as awkward as I felt. I knew people went to parties on their own all the time. It was just that these were movie people and it was different. You couldn’t have a normal conversation with them, like “Where will you go on vacation?” or “What part of town do you live in?” If you asked direct questions, they thought you were working for the tabloids and digging for dirt. Celebs never wanted to be specific about their neighborhoods, because that would let the paparazzi know what Starbucks to stake out in the morning for a no-makeup and sweatpants photo. All conversation had to be about superficial stuff like the weather and how incredible the party was. I drifted out through the open glass doors onto the lawn and saw Brian Robinson surrounded by a handful of admirers near a faux fire pit that was electrically burning.

“I mean, if you haven’t been to China, you’ve got to get yourself there. The Ecstasy you can get there is amazing, and the women are incredible,” Brian was saying. “I’m telling you, there’s nothing the women in China won’t do for a Westerner. It’s like how it was here in the States in the ’60s and ’70s—they’re going through their own sexual revolution right now.”