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Fortunately, the bartenders at the Beverly Wilshire make one mean nonalcoholic Cosmopolitan.

    “Devi! Wait up!”

    I turn and see Andrew Garrison hurrying toward me. I like Andy, but I wish he hadn’t called out to me. Because when I turn, I get a full view of Blake strolling down New York Street. He sees me, too, and holds up a hand in a tentative wave. My chest tightens, and I fight the urge to go toward him.

    Then I see that he’s with Elliot, and I no longer have to fight—I’m staying way the hell away from that one.

    Not that I have much choice. Elliot shoots me a fierce look, takes Blake’s elbow, and starts walking with him in the opposite direction. As I watch, I see Blake jerk away. Then he turns and points to me. He puts his fingers to his ear in the universal symbol for “Call me.”

    No way, Jose.

    I turn away, unnerved, baffled, and thinking the kind of lusty thoughts that I really didn’t want to think about Blake. Not anymore.

    I shake off the thoughts and try to focus on Andy, who is now breathless beside me, a book of Sudoku puzzles tucked under his arm as usual.

    No luck; I’m still thinking about Blake. And Lindy’s right, of course: I still love him. But like I already said, love really isn’t our problem. Trust and commitment, however…

    I sigh. Damn Lindy for putting the thoughts in my head. And damn me for falling for him in the first place.

    “Heading out?” Andy asks, obviously completely uninterested in either Blake or my lust.

    “Meeting a friend for shopping,” I say, my voice as reverential as if I were talking about a religious experience.

    “You must be heading toward Prada.”

    “Yeah,” I say. “How did you know?”

    He just laughs and shakes his head. “Devi, your fascination with Prada isn’t exactly breaking news.”

    Okay. He has a point. And I would blush, except that I’m not in the least bit embarrassed by my Prada-lust. Prada, I figure, is totally worthy.

    “You did great today,” he says. “Your performance was dead-on.”

    “Thanks. That means a lot.” I’m not lying when I say that. Andy is the one person on the set who has personal experience with Play.Survive.Win. Not only was Andy forced to play the game—and almost died doing it—but he’s been working with Mel for a few years now, trying to locate other game survivors. Apparently he was some kind of tech-head before he got sucked into the game. In other words, he’s a total computer geek, and I know he’s been a lot of help to Mel, investigating Web sites and stuff that have been used as clues in the real-life version of the game. More important for my purposes, though, he’s the movie’s story consultant. And that means he’s been working closely with Tobias, the screenwriters, and the producers for months.

    “When I first suggested to Mel that we turn her story into a movie, I told her you’d be perfect for the role,” he says. “And then when we started negotiating with the studio and Tobias, I kept pushing. I mean, I’ve seen all of your movies, so I knew you could nail the part. I’m really pleased to see that I was right.”

    Okay,now I’m going to blush. “That’s really sweet, Andy.” I’m not sure what else to say. I mean, I’m glad that he thinks I’m good in the role.That part is flattering. But I can also tell that Andy has a little bit of that fan-boy thing going on.

    Normally, that would give me pause. Clingy obnoxious fans freak me out (for obvious reasons). But Andy is of the polite breed. He’s also part of the production team, which makes him safe. All of which means that his fan status is charming rather than creepy.

    Even so, I can’t help but feel a little bit self-conscious. Which is yet another downside of the whole celebrity thing. People know all about your life even without you ever telling them one single thing. It takes some getting used to. Trust me on that.

    “So, I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee,” he says, a little bit hesitantly. “Tomorrow’s scenes are intense.