Page 61 of The Bodyguard

“Uh, huh. Yup,” Briar says, nodding but still not meeting my eyes.

God. I need to deal with this.

“Okay, so are we going with the nude dress or the black?” My stylist, Ellie, asks, holding up both of them.

“Can we normalize calling them tan instead of nude? What even is a nude dress?” Briar snorts.

“This.” Ellie wiggles the dress and laughs.

“Black,” I reply quickly as my phone rings. “Hi Nick.”

“Are we doing dinner after the show?”

“Sure. Are we meeting anyone else?” I ask both him and Briar.

She shakes her head as Nick says no.

“Tomorrow you have the E-News interview and lunch with Dario and Melinda,” Briar whispers.

Dario and Melinda, or Delinda, as they’re known in the media, are the latest American sweethearts. I met them last year at the Grammys and we immediately became friends.

When I told my mom and sister, Ivy, over dinner the following week, they both rolled their eyes at me.

“People like that aren’t real friends.” Mom told me. “You should spend more time with Gina outside of work.”

“I see her every day.” I shook my head.

“Well, maybe if you hung out socially, you’d meet more friends and be closer. Maybe she feels taken advantage of?” Ivy said.

I had dropped my fork.

“I’ve been on set for six months making a movie. Do you think I can just take a day off? It doesn’t work like that.” I snapped. “And Gina is earning twice what she did as a corporate assistant.”

More than Briar, which I now regret.

She held her hands up, glancing at Mom. “I’m just saying. You’re earning way more than her, so it’s got to be uncomfortable.”

“Did Gina she say that?”

Ivy shrugged.

“Ivy. Did Gina say that?” I demanded.

“She said you don’t let her date Hollywood men.”

Oh, my god.

“For a reason. They would just use her.”

“You sound jealous to me.” Ivy shrugged again.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ivy.” I tossed my napkin on the table.

“Savannah. Stop it. Don’t come into my home with your Hollywood superstar routine and think you can bully your sister around.” Mom slammed her hand on the table.

“What? Are you kidding me?” I had pushed my plate away. “They’re talking crap behind my back, and you expect me to be okay with it?”

“Well, are they wrong?” She lifted a brow. “You are a multi-millionaire. Gina works very hard for you. Maybe you could show her some respect.”

---