eck ached. She immediately grabbed her phone and refreshed the go

e popped up from

g with an indie director at Westwind Court

ive thousand dollars in her bank account felt unreal, like d

e, elegant navy blue dress. She ironed it on the motel's broken ironing board, did

d took an Uber across

ere Hollywood elites made deals over two-hundred-dollar salads. Clara stepped out o

o the lobby.. She approached the podium, where a sno

stess asked, h

I'm here to me

"Mr. Davis canceled his reservation ten minutes ago

on washing over her. She nodded politel

heavy glass entranc

n, holding hands wi

stinctively tried to step behind a large,

glasses and a tight red dress, spotted Clara's navy ou

Veronica's face. She pulled a reluct

nsuring the wealthy patrons waiting in the lobby

weight, but he stood tall, trying to as

Is that a department store dress? God, Clara, you really don't b

ight, her nails digging into her palms. "Money cann

e quiet lobby. "Are you stalking us? Is that it?

pity. "Clara, please. Have some dignity. S

"I was here for a meeting. I would

finger at Clara's chest. "A meeting? Please. You probably found some cheap, des

immaculate black Maybach pulled

fectly tailored charcoal suit. He adjusted his silver cuffli

g a tablet. Arthur glanced through the glass doors. He spotted the commo

d onto the scene inside the lobby. He recognized h

o? To be a kept man living off a producer's daught

e spun around and grabbed a tall glass of ic

s wild, preparing to throw the freez

glass doors burst open, and Casp