“Tina! You made it!” Alice’s voice rang out in the space around them, perhaps a little too loudly. She gave Tina a quick hug then pushed her slightly away, inspecting her dress. “You look great! Feeling adventurous tonight, eh?” This last was said in a slightly lower voice.

Tina smiled tightly. “At least I came, Al.”

“And you look fabulous. Now stop acting like you’d rather be anywhere else and I’ll introduce you to some people.” Alice took her by the elbow and steered her into the thickest part of the crowd. “For Pete’s sake, TK, smile,” Alice hissed, looking at her with a frown. “No, not like that. Would you relax? You act like you’ve never been to one of these before. Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

Tina allowed Alice to lead her over to the bar where Alice got her a gin martini. Tina gulped it down in one go. Alice blinked at her. “Riiight. Don’t relax too much, okay?” Alice plucked the glass from her hands. “I don’t want you ducking out early with the first idiot that comes by, just to escape.”

Alice’s agent, Kevin, rushed up to them just then, all a-twitter, and put a hand on Alice’s shoulder. “Aha, there you are, Alice. I’ve got Jonathan Rothman from the Times over there, and he’s making noises about doing a profile on you.” He smiled at Tina apologetically. “Tina, can I borrow her for a minute?” Without waiting for a response and above Alice’s mild protests, he led her away. Alice turned slightly and made a “just a minute” gesture with her finger at Tina before the crowd swallowed her up. Tina sighed, motioning to the bartender for another cocktail.

“Having fun?” A short man with more than a passing resemblance to Woody Allen – was that Woody Allen? Nah, couldn’t be – had appeared at her side, seemingly out of nowhere.

“The time of my life,” Tina said with more than an edge of sarcasm. God, she hadn’t even been here for ten minutes yet. She should have just shown up in her work clothes. She was the only woman there in red, and she felt like a tart. She should have left her hair unwashed and dressed in black like almost every other woman there. I’m going to kill you, Alice.

Oh no. Some other guy was coming towards her and Woody. This one was burly, bald, holding a highball glass like a beacon and wearing… Wait, was that tweed? You’ve got to be kidding me. In L.A.? How? More importantly, why? Tina knew enough to recognize that one couldn’t pull off such a disastrously pretentious ensemble unless one had friends – bought friends – in very high places, backing their ludicrous wardrobes and tripping over themselves to pour their benefactor’s equally ludicrous, equally pretentious choice of Scotch. Why can’t even moderately attractive men hit on me anymore? She gulped down her drink and scuttled like a crab in the general direction of the ladies’ room. Tina craned her neck, searching in vain for Alice, before grabbing a flute of champagne from a lithe barista weaving through the crowd and bearing a tray. She couldn’t take much more of this. She didn’t think she’d last another ten minutes, let alone the whole party.

Tina downed her glass of champagne, ignoring a clumsy attempt to be picked up by some lecherous old publisher or other. This was a mistake. She was the only blonde in attendance dressed in anything other than black, making Tina feel as if she stuck out in this crowd of literary types, and not in a good way. She maneuvered her way to the ladies’ room, where she took to washing her hands and trying to mentally practice another round of self-affirmations as she looked at herself in the mirror.

I do look good, Tina mused. She fished in her bag for a moment, then carefully re-applied her lipstick. Even if the attention wasn’t the type she was used to or would have preferred, she supposed might as well make the most of it. Tina took bracing breaths, squaring her shoulders before leaving the restroom. If Alice was going to be busy all night, so be it. She’d stick it out on her own.