"How do I look?" Camilla asked.

Jane made a face at her friend. "You look like shit, let's go to dinner."

The girls were in the eastbound tube of the Holland Tunnel in Camilla's car, and she was touching up her lipstick in the rear-view mirror.

"Ca-milla! Could you please not kill us tonight? You should've let me drive so you could primp."

"I'm not primping, I just need to fix my lipstick," Cam said, poking at her hair. "Besides, you can't drive for shit."

"At least I wouldn't be hitching at my skirt and pulling up my stockings every ten seconds," Jane said scathingly.

Camilla looked over at her friend. "You look really nice tonight, you know?"

"Really?" Jane was pleased in spite of herself. She was wearing an A-line minidress that accentuated her long legs and hid her lack of curves, she thought. It was a shade of blue that brought out the gray in her eyes, or did in the daytime. And she'd borrowed Cam's silver strappy sandals with the heels. Even though they couldn't acknowledge each other, this would be Charlie's first time to see her dressed up, so she was happy she passed the Camilla test.

Camilla herself was dressed to kill, of course. She was wearing a black strapless dress that was cut dangerously low in the front. Her face and body spoke for themselves. She was stunning. In fact, Jane was amazed that Charlie had met them both and somehow noticed her, and not Cam. 

They made it out of the tunnel in one piece, and Camilla tucked her car into a parking garage; no way was she going to trust the mean streets of New York with her baby. It was a very cold night, but extremely clear, which was lucky, since neither of them had thought to bring an umbrella. The girls walked the three blocks to the Oak Room, where, sure enough, there was a list, and their names were on it. Jane could see her friend breathe a sigh of relief. Jane herself hadn't been worried, because she'd asked Charlie to make sure their names were on it.

They climbed the stairs to the second floor, holding hands, but stopped at the top. The room was loud, filled with people who were famous and people Jane had never seen before, and it looked like everyone was drunk, or on their way.

"Okay, obviously house rules apply, unless it's Charles," Camilla said in a nervous whisper. House rules were that they only left a place with each other. Jane had never needed the house rules; they applied to Camilla only, really, who was such a good friend that Jane had never worried about being stuck anywhere alone.

"Would you really leave with him?" Jane asked curiously.

"Fuck yeah," Camilla answered with a smile. "This is Charles fucking McAllister, Jane! It would be like meeting Paul McCartney in the 1960s, you know?" She was scanning the room. "Do you see him?"

Jane shook her head. She was fairly certain no one in the room had ever seen her with Charlie, or if they had, they wouldn't remember her. 

"Ohmygod, there he is, there he is!" Cam grabbed Jane's arm with excitement. "Let's go over and say hi!"

"No, I don't think we should," Jane said, holding back. Charlie had seen them, too, but was studiously ignoring them, holding a drink and talking to someone.

"You're right, we shouldn't look too eager," Camilla agreed. "Let's get a drink first."

"Camilla, we're underage!" Jane said quietly, shocked. Other than some champagne and wine at family functions, Jane had never really consumed alcohol.

"Oh, come on, no one's going to ask for ID here, it's a private party!" Camilla dragged her to the open bar, and less than a minute later they were both drinking vodka martinis. 

Jane took a sip and nearly gagged at the taste. She saw Charlie watching her and took a big swallow, just to see if she could get him to change expression. Sure enough, his eyebrows went way up as he watched her lift the glass, and she took an extra swallow, just because. She lifted her glass in a small salute before turning to Cam, who had already attracted a couple of admirers.

Jane turned to look at Charlie again, and saw that he, too, had a few girls hanging on him. Seeing him smile at the girls as they touched him was making Jane upset, and her drink, which really did taste foul, was gone before she knew it. She turned back to the bar for another drink, turning to watch Charlie, whose cluster of girls had now grown to four.

Camilla turned to Jane, trying to include her in the conversation. Jane sighed inwardly, smiling at the guys, who obviously had no interest in her. She knew that they were both assessing the situation, trying to figure out which of them had the better shot with Camilla, and which would be stuck with her. 

She took another big swallow of her drink, nodding at something one of the guys was saying. She smiled over her glass at the guy, who had blond hair and muscles all over. He was something called a "grip" on the movie. It had something to do with the cameras. 

She tipped her glass back. "Whoops, it's empty," she said to the guy with a laugh. She turned back to the bar, this time asking for a glass of white wine. The bartender raised his eyebrows at her request, but served it to her without saying a word.

Camilla was looking at her when she turned back. "Is that your third drink?" she asked, concerned.

"Second," Jane lied. 

Charlie had been joined by another girl, and all five were vying for his attention, flipping their hair all over, touching him, laughing in annoyingly high-pitched voices. Jane gritted her teeth.

Charlie flicked his eyes over to her as he took a sip of his drink. He knew that Jane, who'd been there all of ten minutes, was already working on her third drink. He was mildly comforted by the fact that she seemed to have switched to wine, but still. She looked amazing, too, and he wanted to tell her, but of course he couldn't. So he just watched her, paying just enough attention to the women around him to know when to nod and smile.

"Well, we're going to go say hi to some people we know," Camilla said to the grips. She waved at them and walked away, holding Jane by the elbow. The guys watched them go, like Jane knew they would, though she also knew that they were watching Camilla, not her.

Charlie didn't know that, however, and from where he stood, it looked like Aaron and Matt were checking out the girl he was head over heels for. He felt the first, ugly, prickles of jealousy. The girls were headed his way, at least.

"Charles, remember us?" Camilla asked, smiling prettily. "I won the lunch with you at the River Cafe? Camilla and Jane?"

"Of course," Charlie said, smiling and stepping close to hug first Camilla, then Jane. "Lent you my glasses, didn't I?" he asked Jane.

"Yes, and I never returned them, either," Jane said apologetically. "I don't have them with me, I'm so sorry."

Charlie shook his head. "No, please, keep them, honest, it's fine," he said. The girls he'd been standing with were looking at the newcomers with undisguised hostility. Jane they dismissed immediately, but Camilla was another story.

"Do you know someone here?" Charlie asked curiously. "You didn't mention anyone when we met for lunch."

"Yeah, we're friends with Amy? The, um--" Cam stumbled.

"Script clerk," Jane supplied. "She's the script clerk."

One of the girls who'd been standing with Charlie, a truly stunning girl with jet-black hair, leaned in to Charlie, pressing herself against him. "Oops, sorry," she said with a laugh, shaking her hair out of her eyes as she smiled up at him. She pressed her breasts into his arm as she reached across to flick an imaginary piece of fluff off his collar.

Jane watched this with narrowed eyes and drained her wine glass. Camilla saw this maneuver and her eyes widened. She knew as well as Jane did that she was no drinker. 

"Jane? Maybe you should slow down a little, huh?" she said with a smile, putting her hand on Jane's arm.

"I'm fine, it's only wine," Jane answered. "Be right back, just off to get another." And she went back to the bar, where the bartender served her another glass of wine. She turned just in time to see the girl with the black hair smooth Charlie's hair back, and she drained half her glass before she even got back to them. 

She walked into a chair on her way back, and Charlie looked up at the noise, concern in his eyes.

"Sorry about that," she said, rejoining the group. Around her, the party had gotten even louder, it seemed to Jane. And there was definitely more furniture in the room. 

Someone started playing the huge jukebox that was against the wall, and Charlie set his drink down. "I love this song," he declared. "May I have the pleasure?" he asked, holding his hand out. Jane saw that Camilla already had her hand partway up, an acceptance on her lips. But he was reaching for Jane, pulling her behind him, weaving between the people who were already dancing.

He put his arms around her waist, pulling her close, though not as close as he would've liked. He looked into her eyes. "You need to slow down on the drinking," he said to her.

"What are you doing?" Jane asked, motioning to his body.

"What? What are you talking about? I'm dancing with you," he answered in frustration.

"Well, we look ridiculous, because this isn't a slow song," Jane said, stepping away from him. "I thought we were supposed to be undercover tonight? No one's supposed to know about us, right? People are going to know if they see us glued together while, um, Lil Jon and the East Side Boyz are playing, you know?"

She turned to walk away, but at that moment the song ended, and the next one was a slow one, dammit. Charlie triumphantly pulled her back into his arms, and put Jane's reluctant arms around his neck.

"What's the matter with you?" he nearly hissed at her. "You're getting pissed before you've even been here half an hour. You're going to be falling down in a bit, and I can't even look after you properly. Please stop," he begged.

"Look after me?" she repeated, mimicking his accent. "I don't need anyone to look after me, Charles McAllister, thank you very much. Why don't you go back to your bimbo posse and take care of one of them? The one with the black hair? Seemed as though she'd like nothing better."

"What? Who?" Charlie asked in confusion.

"Little miss big tits with the pretty hair?" Jane dropped her arms from his neck. She nearly lost her balance and fell over; she probably would have if Charlie hadn't caught her.

"Oh my god, are you jealous?" he asked incredulously, and Jane saw that he was struggling not to laugh. It was just too much for her. 

Jane felt tears stinging her eyes, but held them back. She glared at him, her pain naked in her eyes. Jealousy was such a petty emotion, she knew that. 

"Come on," he said, leading her off the dance floor. 

Jane looked for Camilla as they were walking, but she was nowhere to be found. Charlie saw her looking, and said, "Your friend went to the toilets, I saw her go. The line's a mile long, we're good." 

He walked Jane through a door that led to some kind of storage closet, lit by a bare bulb. It smelled like bleach.

"What are we doing in here?" she asked, still angry. 

"We need to talk," he said, looking very concerned. "What's the matter with you? You know there's nothing going on between me and that girl, or any of those women. You know that, right?" He stepped closer to her. 

"It's just so unfair," she said, finally giving in to her scalding tears. "I just felt like--I just feel like you're ashamed of me," she finished in a soft voice. "You have those pretty girls you get photographed with at clubs, at restaurants, all over the city, or those bimbos out there, to--to flirt with, to be seen with, whatever. Then you have me, plain Jane, the one you keep hidden, the one you fuck in secret--" By now her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Jane, no! Oh god, no!" Charlie said, aghast. He put his arms around her, hugging her painfully tight. "I'm doing all this to protect you, can't you see that? Do you know what kind of hell your life would be if we were seen together? The last woman I was involved with got death threats made against her, did you know that?" He loosened his hold enough so he could look at her. "Jesus, Jane, you're so precious to me. 

"And I thought you wanted to keep it a secret, too?" he asked softly. "Do you want Camilla to know? Hm?"

Jane looked at him, eyes streaming. She slowly shook her head, leaning her forehead against his chest, grasping his biceps.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. "This is just so hard for me. I know that's no excuse, I know that, but I've never felt this way before, about anyone, and no one can know. Everyone sees me and sees how ugly I am, and no one thinks I'd ever have a chance with someone like you, and I have to watch those horrible girls pawing at you--"

"Sshh, shh," he soothed, stroking her soft hair, feeling terrible for having made her cry. "If it's any comfort, this is hard for me, too, you know? I saw those guys watching you and it made me furious."

"What guys?" Jane asked, lifting her head so she could see him.

"The grips. Aaron and Matt?"

"They weren't watching me, they were watching Cam's ass," she said, laughing for the first time. Charlie heard it, saw her face, and felt marginally better. 

"And what have I said about you using that word to describe yourself in front of me?" he admonished, kissing the top of her head. "You promised."

"I'm drunk, cut me some motherfucking slack," she responded, putting her arms around him.

"Yeah, about that? You going to cut back a little? Please? For me?" he put his forehead against hers. 

"Yeah, okay," she said. "I'll try to keep my petty jealousy under lock and key, too," she promised.

"You can let it show a little," he teased. "It's kind of cute in moderation, if I'm being honest.

"Now kiss me big before we go back out there?" he asked, and she did, a kiss that tasted like wine and made Charlie's head swim, and got his blood pumping to parts of his body where it wasn't needed right then.

Jane felt him twitching and laughed a soft laugh as they exited the supply closet.