Clem was quiet for the rest of the evening, senses still reeling from being so close to a half-naked Johnny Darling. She could hardly bear to look him in the eye. And it wasn't as though she'd never been around a shirtless man before, either; she'd gone to plenty of pool parties during her high school years and been around guys cavorting in their trunks. No, this was because it was John, he of the sculpted abs and toned arms. She'd admired him from afar for the last ten years, after all, and to suddenly be in his presence while he was in nothing but well fitting slacks was beyond her level of coping. And she knew he'd known of her discomfort, too.

She wanted to die of embarrassment.

Her sister knew something was wrong with her, and kept catching her eye from across the gallery. Once she even mouthed "Should we go?" Clem's way, and Clem had shaken her head and smiled, trying to reassure Hyacinth that she really was fine.

She grabbed another drink from a passing waiter, trying to calm her nerves. John wasn't much help, insisting on remaining near her, ostensibly to make sure she was okay.

"Your color's funny," he told her with a smile.

"Oh John, please, you can't spend the entire night hovering around me, waiting for me to topple over or whatever. I'm fine, honestly." Clem tried to look normal.

"Your sister would never forgive me if I let you pass out in a dead faint and did nothing to help, now, would she?" he teased, putting a hand on her back, making her tingle at the contact.

Clem resigned herself to having John Darling-Ezekwesili tagging after her for the rest of the evening, laughing about how many young women would give anything to be in her shoes. Every time she stopped to look at a painting, he was there, drawing her out, trying to make her feel comfortable.

"So." John smiled at her. "Clem. Short for Clementine, right?"

Clem nodded. "And my sister is Hy, short for Hyacinth," she added with a laugh. "My father named us."

"He must've been a very unusual and lovely person, to come up with such lovely and unusual names."

Clem nodded. "He died before we were one year old, I don't remember him, but my mother says he was."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Clem shook her head. "It's okay, and I'm glad we have our names to remember him by. We're even kind of like our names, you know?"

John looked at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Hy is beautiful and fragrant, like a hyacinth, and I'm, well, round—"

"And sweet? Like a clementine?" John smiled at her, sailing smoothly over her reference to her shape. "And remember, clementines have blossoms as well, very fragrant, unless I'm mistaken."

Clem wondered what it must feel like to be so confident, so assured of oneself, and at such a young age, too. He was only 25, she knew, barely four years older than she was. And yet here he was, rubbing elbows with studio heads, throwing his head back to laugh at something the gallery owner said to him. He was probably one of the youngest people there, excluding Hyacinth and herself, yet he was the most relaxed, hands casually in his pockets as he spoke to this person or that.

It was interesting to see the many, many women who came into his orbit, wanting something from him. Clem could see them trying to figure out what his connection to her was, because surely he wasn't romantically involved with such a plain creature? She stood sedately by his side, listening to the conversations and contributing as little as possible.

Hyacinth came to find them a bit later. "You guys about ready to go?" she asked. "We have to be on set ridiculously early tomorrow morning, John, you know? I don't want to look all puffy for my close ups."

"Sure, I'm ready," John responded easily. "Clem?"

"Please, I'm only here because you guys are, I'll do whatever you want."

So the trio left, after saying good bye to the gallery owner and Anastasia once more.

"I'll be in touch about the jacket, I was totally serious," Anastasia said to her.

"What's she talking about?" Hyacinth asked as they waited for their car to pull around up front.

"Your sister got a commission to make Anastasia Ruiz a jacket like hers tonight," John explained.

"Please!" Clem was horrified. "Not a commission, nothing like that. She liked my jacket and asked if I'd make her one, that's all."

"Sounds like a commission to me," Hyacinth agreed as their driver opened the door for them.

"Hy, stop joking," Clem begged. "It's not like she's going to pay me or anything."

"Why wouldn't she?" John asked as they settled down for the ride to Hyacinth's Hollywood Hills house. "I'm sure she doesn't expect you to do it for nothing. And it's not like she can't afford to pay."

Clem just shook her head, dismissing their words.

"Well, ladies, thank you for a delightful evening," John said when they arrived at Hyacinth's house. "This is the best time I've had in recent memory." He walked the girls up to the door, and Clem was embarrassed that she was with them. What if they wanted a private moment for a more personal good night?

But John seemed fine as he hugged both girls and pecked their cheeks good night.

"See you in the morning, Hy," he said. "And Clem, don't be a stranger, let's get together again soon, shall we?" And with a cheerful wave, he was gone.

"I'm sorry, I hope I wasn't in the way," Clem said as soon as they were inside.

Hyacinth shook her head. "Don't be silly. If he wanted to be alone with me, he could've found a way."

Clem grabbed her sister's hand as she headed toward the kitchen, stopping her. "Are you disappointed?"

Hyacinth considered. "Maybe a little, but we still have months together on this movie for things to happen, you know? I have heard over and over that he's a real gentleman, very thoughtful and all that, so he could be taking it slow, or he could've held back because you were there, who knows? Don't worry about it, Clem. I think he liked you, you know?"

Clem stared at her sister.

"No, not like that," Hyacinth said with a laugh. "But he was sticking pretty close to you all night, don't you think? You guys could end up really being friends, wouldn't that be cool?" She continued to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water.

"He was probably just being a gentleman, like you said," Clem offered, following her sister into the kitchen. "He kept teasing me about being nervous. That's probably why he was hanging around me."

"Well, whatever the reason, it was really sweet of him, I think," Hyacinth replied with a smile. "Now, I've got to get out of his dress and these heels, my feet are killing me."

Clem said good night to her sister and got in her car for the drive back to Santa Monica. She relived the evening as she zoomed down the freeway, which was relatively uncrowded for a Friday night. Her mind was crowded with images of John, standing holding a champagne flute, shirtless in the bathroom while waiting for his shirt to dry, or when he'd touched her back or put his arm around her shoulders.

She told herself to stop it. Johnny Darling wasn't interested in her, never would be, couldn't be. He had Hy, after all? Beautiful, kind Hyacinth, who was on an equal footing with him in the entertainment industry and would have a similar trajectory with her future.

Clem sighed as a song by The Jacks came on the radio. Of course she knew and loved all of the boys voices, but she had to admit that John's voice moved her in a particular way. She could picture the accompanying video perfectly, and thought about how the boys looked when they were younger, bopping around the stage as they sang together. She'd even seen them in concert once, with Kim and Alan; even when they were teens, Hyacinth's life had been on a different path, with the commercials, the guest starring roles on TV shows, the constant auditioning. Hyacinth had had an agent since she was eight years old, simply due to the dizzying and confusing range of offers that poured in for her. What had started as something Hy could do to "earn a little money for college" quickly became a career that was out of their mother's control. And by the time it had become obvious that Hyacinth wouldn't be going to college, it had been equally obvious that Clem would, and Hy had graciously told her mother and sister that she'd love to pay Clem's fees.

Clem was so deep in her thoughts that she nearly missed her exit.

Her mother was waiting up for her.

"Did you have a nice time?"

Clem nodded. She told her mother about the beautiful artwork and hanging out with Hyacinth and John, and meeting Anastasia Ruiz. She left out the encounter with Ridgely and spilling champagne on John's shirt.

"And mom, Ms. Ruiz loved my jacket and wants me to make her one with an old jacket she's got!"

"See, I told you you should do this for a living!" Jill's voice was pleased and excited.

"Mom, please, it's nothing like that, it's just fun that someone artistic liked an artistic choice I made." Clem was embarrassed at the implication, that she could take a hobby and turn it into a career. She was an English major, and planned to be either a writer or a journalist.

"Well, it's fun to think about, anyway," Jill said. She ruffled her daughter's hair. "I just want to make sure you know how proud of you I am. You don't have to be a movie star like your sister, you understand that, right, honey?"

Clem nodded and hugged her mother. "No worries, mom. Good night."

"Good night."

After she was in bed, Clem's thoughts wandered again to John.

Even though she could never admit it to Hyacinth, meeting him had been one of the high points of her life. For him to turn out to be so kind and smart and fun was just a bonus. And he really seemed to enjoy her company. Imagine if she actually got to be friends with him, spend time with him? And not just with Hy, but the two of them, sitting around discussing books and art and whatnot, how cool would that be?

But this was ridiculous, wasn't it? John was friends with lots of people way smarter and more interesting than her. Plus she was just a student who lived at home with her mother. No jet-setting superstar would want to spend time with her.

Would he?

Clem fell asleep and dreamt she was an artist having an opening at the gallery where she'd just spent the evening. John was there, of course, with Hyacinth, and he bought some of her work, which was the most amazing thing, the most amazing feeling.

"Thank you so much," dream Clem said to dream John.

And dream John hugged her, hard, in front of everyone. "I always know what I like," he told her with a wink.