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“Plus,” Marcie adds, “she isn’t as eager to admit that her clothes ended up in second-hand stores because she was totally broke and needed some quick cash.” She gives me a wink through the mirror.

I spin on my heels. “Really? She said she donated them.”

“Oh, please! No one wanted to hire her because she had earned the reputation of being a diva,” Marcie says with a mischievous smile. “Anyway, I’m just saying. Don’t let people get you down. You never know what’s in someone else’s closet. And mean girls like her usually carry a lot of skeletons in theirs.”

“Thanks for that,” I say with a smile. “You live on our street, right?”

She turns around and leans back against the counter. “Lived. I moved out a few years ago when I started college. My parents still live there, though.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, nice. What are you studying?”

“Just got my bachelor’s, and I’m starting med school in the fall.”

“Whoa. Impressive.”

She winces. “I’m honestly freaking out a little,” she jokes. “What about you?”

I swallow hard. “Mmm, college wasn’t on the table for me. I’m the LA cliché. Struggling actress here.” My tone is light, but it’s strongly contradicting the way I’m feeling. I’ve always wanted to go to college, but education isn’t cheap. And Zander didn’t like it when I left the trailer. Or should I say “prison?” It feels like a best suited term.

She laughs, making her wavy hair shake. “All actors are struggling until they get their big breakthrough. It’ll happen.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, we should get back out there. The auction is about to start,” Marcie says. “I’m sure you don’t want to spend your night holed up in the restroom.”

“Right,” I say. Even though I wouldn’t mind staying here all night chatting with Marcie. She’s so easy to talk to. “Although, isn’t that how friendships start?” I say with a chuckle. Not that I would know.

“For sure.” She laughs. “But we could grab lunch or do some shopping instead, if you want? Or both,” she says, cocking her head to the side. “I’m eager to get to know the girl who’s managed to leave Colton so smitten. He always looks so brooding.” She laughs again, and I join in.

He really does. “I know, right? And yes, I’d love that.”

“Awesome. Give me your number, and I’ll text you?”

“Sure.” As I enter my contact information into her phone, I notice it’s the same model as mine.

“Thanks,” she says, holding up the device for emphasis. “I’ll message you.”

And just like that, my heart grows a little warmer. I didn’t know how much I needed a friend until tonight. I’ve always been perfectly fine on my own, but I also never thought I’d be getting married, so what do I know? This new life feels like a new beginning, and I’m seizing it like a lifeline.

Colton

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask Jane for a second time as we wait for the valet to bring the car around. I could have sworn I glimpsed a shadow of something in her eyes when she was talking to Stephanie and Paula. But when she came out of the restrooms with Marcie Rosemont, she was all smiles. Still, I have this sinking feeling something happened.

“Yes,” she says with a weak laugh. “Why do you keep asking? I told you, everything’s perfectly fine. It was a great night.”

“Okay,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket to check my email while we wait. I’ve got an email from my childhood friend—slash only friend—Wade. He’s congratulating me on the engagement and sending me the finalized information about his wedding weekend. “Crap,” I blurt. “I totally forgot this was coming up. We’re going to the UK next weekend.”

Her head snaps toward me. “Wait, what?”

“Sorry, I forgot to tell you before.”

“You forgot?” she says, struggling to keep her voice low. We take a few steps aside to avoid being overheard. “About your own friend’s wedding? And you failed to mention you’re planning to take me out of the country.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s not like I’m kidnapping you. Yes, I forgot. Simple as that. I’m not a very good friend, Jane. You’ll notice I don’t have many of them, so it shouldn’t come as a shock.”

“Well,” she whispers, crossing her arms. “You’re obligated to disclose any trip with me at least a month in advance. It’s in the contract.”

I sigh, looking around to make sure no one is hearing this. “You’re right, and I’m truly sorry,” I whisper, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire. I’m in the wrong, and I know it. “But I can’t skip my only friend’s wedding, and I can’t attend without my fiancée. It would seem suspicious.”

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