as dates, what they were going to wear, where they would stay in the city that night, when Portia came whirling in with a copy of the
New York Post. "O. M. G.!" she said dramatically, whipping the paper open and slapping it down in front of me. "Look at this!" It
was the infamous Page Six gossip column, and staring out at me was a large, full-color photo of Kiran Hayes in a hot pink dress,
draped all over some Adonis and smiling seductively at the camera.
She had grown her dark hair out, and it fell in perfect waves over her tan shoulders and back. Gorgeous as always. "What is this?" I
asked, pulling it closer as Noelle, Tiffany, and Astrid rose out of their seats to better see. "Check the cap!" Portia instructed, pointing a
manicured nail at the text beneath. '"International It Girl Kiran Hayes celebrates her eighteenth birthday in style at the Ritz in Amster-
dam,'" I read aloud. "'But don't fret, kiddies. Word is Miss Hayes will be bringing the party stateside next month. Think you're a VIP?
You'll know if you receive an invite.'" "Sweet!" Tiffany said, sitting down again. "There's nothing like one of Kiran's birthday par-
ties." "She didn't have one last year," I pointed out. "That was because of all the... unpleasantness," Noelle said dismissively. "Did you
guys know she was planning a party here?" Vienna asked from the other end of the table. "No," I replied.
"Of course," Noelle said at the same time, digging out a spoonful of yogurt and berries from her bowl. She looked at me from
across the table and smirked. Of course she knew and I didn't. Of course. But did that mean I wasn't going to be invited? That I didn't
rate as one of Kiran's VIPs? "So, Reed. Have you thought about who you're going to bring to the fund-raiser?" Noelle asked, smoothly
changing the subject as she took another bite of breakfast. "Do I really need a date?" I asked. "I'm going to be busy enough as it is
without babysitting some guy." "Are you kidding? Of course you need a date," Portia said as she slid into a chair at the other end of
the table. "How would it look if the chairwoman of the event didn't have a date? Answer? N.G."
Great. I had no idea people cared about such things. I glanced over at a small table near the corner, where Josh and Ivy sat together
and alone, talking urgently over their untouched meals. Suddenly I felt hollow inside.Were the rumors that Josh and Ivy were together
true, or did it just look that way? Part of me wished I knew for sure, but a larger part of me wanted to know nothing--wanted to be able
to keep living in my own little world. A world in which he was still pining over me. He couldn't have started up with someone else so
fast. Especially not a girl like her. And he certainly couldn't have been kissing Ivy in front of Pemberly. He was Josh. A gentleman. A
thoughtful, caring, sensitive person. He just couldn't. As I watched, Josh leaned even closer to Ivy and hot anger shot through me. Did
he really have to be so public about it? Did he really have to rub my face in whatever he and Ivy had? I was going to find a date who
would put Josh to shame. I would do it if it killed me. And I was also going to find some way to prove that Ivy had been stalking me.
He could never be with her if he knew that. Right? My phone trilled, knocking me out of my daze. I fished it out of my bag quickly
and checked the screen. The call was coming from the manager of the St. Sebastian.
"It's Cheryl Wallace," I told Noelle. Her brows knit as I answered it, which gave me a thump of foreboding. Did this mean that
something was wrong? "Hello?" I answered. "Hello, Miss Brennan. This is Cheryl Wallace from the Saint Sebastian," a woman's
voice said pleasantly. "How are you this morning?" "Fine. How are you?" I asked, confused. "Well, I have some bad news, unfortu-