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Sophie turned to me, and I gave her a hug.

“How’s Russell?” Katherine asked quietly.

"He's doing better now. I haven't actually seen Russell in about six months. The work he's doing is classified, I think. But I got to talk to him on the phone last month, and he sounded... happy. Purposeful. Like he'd finally found something worth doing."

"I'm glad," Katherine said, and I could tell she meant it. I’d had Bruno check up on him. So far he was keeping his nose clean. The Department of Homeland Security was keeping a tight leash on him.

“Sophie!”

Katherine and I both turned to see a tall blonde man walking purposefully over to Sophie’s side. Our friend looked flushed.

“Kit, Code. I’d like to introduce you to Patrick Greene, he’s my date. He works as⁠—”

“I don’t have anything to do with the movie industry,” Patrick said as he held out his hand.

I grinned. “In that case, it’s great to meet you, Patrick. My name is Code Drakos.”

The four of us talked for a little bit before Sophie and Patrick were called off by another group of people.

"Come on. Let's find Angelica and Bruno. They're probably causing trouble somewhere."

We found them by the bar. Angelica in a glittering silver gown, holding court with a group of industry people while Bruno stood slightly behind her, looking as uncomfortable as I felt. He caught my eye and raised his beer in solidarity.

"Code!" Angelica launched herself at me, somehow not spilling her champagne. "Your wife won an Oscar! Can you believe it?"

"I can believe it."

"Always so serious." She kissed Katherine's cheek. "You were magnificent, darling. The speech, the dress, everything."

"You helped pick the dress."

"I know. I'm a genius." She waved her glass. "Bruno and I have a bet about how long you two last before you flee back to Tennessee."

"What's the over-under?" I asked.

"I said one more hour," Bruno said. "Angelica said three."

"She wins," Katherine said. "We promised Simon and Roan we'd stay until at least midnight. They're here somewhere, being very uncomfortable in their tuxedos."

"Speaking of uncomfortable," I muttered as another photographer tried to get our attention.

Katherine tugged me away before they could corner us. We wound through the party, stopping to talk with her director, her agent, various people whose names I'd forget by morning. Everyone wanted to congratulate her, touch her Oscar, bask in her success.

And through it all, she kept me close, her hand in mine, grounding herself the same way I was grounding myself in her.

Finally, we escaped to a balcony overlooking Los Angeles. The city sprawled below us, a sea of lights. The noise of the party faded to a dull roar behind us.

"You hate this," Katherine said.

"I don't hate it."

"Code."

"Okay, I'm not a fan." I pulled her against me, her back to my chest. "But I'd endure a thousand parties like this if it meant watching you win that Oscar."

"Liar. You'd endure maybe three."

"Fine. Three. Then I'd drag you back to Jasper Creek and never let you leave."