Morgan.
Mama Valentino.
Racing to the door, my stomach upset from nerves, I bolt to the top of the stairs. Down below the cleaning staff are mopping the floors. Others are taking down decorations, while some are carrying trash bags heading toward the kitchen.
Panicked, I look for a familiar face, but no one even bothers to look my way.
Was this all just a dream? Who am I?
My eyes dart back and forth, trying to remember where the closest mirror is located.
“Darling!” Valentino walks toward me, his smile planted on his face. “You broke the internet with that dress.”
“Valentino?” I cry, grabbing his shirt in desperation.
“Oh, darling.” Valentino pulls back, confused by my panicked state. “You look horrendous.”
“Valentino,” I mouth again. “Who am I?”
“Oh, honey, you really drank too much tequila, didn’t you? You are the most fabulous, internet-breaking actress there is!”
“What’s my name?”
Valentino’s expression shifts, his botoxed face showing concern somehow as a few lines appear. “Scarlett, what’s wrong with you? Did you take something last night? Did Johhny come here?”
“Say my name… again.”
“Honey…” he drags out, annoyingly. “Scarlett Winters is your name.”
I pull his shirt toward me, the sudden movement causing him to gasp.
“Tell me everything that happened last night?”
“Everything that happened? Honey, let me at least grab a coffee. It was a big night.” He whistles. When my expression doesn’t shift, he continues, “Do you want to know everything that happened last night?”
I nod, pulling him down to sit with me at the top of the stairs.
“Where do I start…” He places his pinky in his mouth, biting on it as he thinks. “Everyone was raving on about how amazing the night was. You’re an internet sensation.”
“Enough with the internet sensation, okay?” I rush, frustrated. “I need to know everything that happened last night. Please.”
“Well, you were gorgeous, the dress was a hit. You had some sort of fight with Morgan outside, and I don’t really know what happened, but Jemima said that it got heated over Noah.”
He treads lightly at the mention of his name, watching me carefully. Although I consider him a close friend, I’ve never truly admitted the truth to him. I didn’t need to when it came to stuff like this—Valentino had a radar.
“Anyway, you ended up at the bar. Darling, you smashed that tequila and became the life of the party.” He laughs, obviously some private joke. “You were flirting with the cute bartender—”
/> “The bartender?” I gulp, knowing exactly where this story’s heading.
“The bartender… Avril, Aaron.”
“Adriel?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. Handsome boy. Honey, maybe a little bit too young for you. He asked about you, though. I can’t remember what since it was the start of a conga line, and someone gorgeous was riding me from behind.”
The memories of Adriel flash in my mind. Our conversation, his refusal to serve me, then telling him he was fired.
“What else?”