The Seat Filler - Sariah Wilson Page 0,33

to Zoe, it suddenly struck me how presumptuous I was being. She might want to be alone with her husband or had other friends she wanted to chat with, and I was about to insert myself into their lives.

So I stopped, unsure of what to do, but Zoe saw me and waved me over.

When I got closer to her, I realized that her face looked pained. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m just worn out. I know I’ve been sitting for the last few hours, but these shoes hurt more than I’d anticipated. I need to sit down and this is where Chase left me, so I’m afraid if I go somewhere else he’ll never find me again, because I forgot my phone at home.”

It might have sounded a tad melodramatic, but as busy and big as this party was, it was probably a valid concern.

“Let’s get you off your feet, then!” There was a group of young women in a corner seat next to us. They were preening for their camera, making the same movements and faces over and over again, obviously filming it for an Instagram story or something similar.

“Excuse me!” I came close to them, and they all glared up at me when I spoke. “Would you guys mind scooting over? My friend is pregnant and needs to sit.”

They looked me up and down and obviously found me lacking. Their ringleader said, “So? How is that our problem?”

These entitled little . . . Something inside me cracked with anger. “Listen, you look like you’ve never even sniffed a pizza, let alone eaten one, so I could probably snap you like twigs. But even worse, I will get my phone out and film you refusing to let Chase Covington’s pregnant wife put her swollen ankles up. What will happen to your likes then?”

I’d only wanted them to move over, but at my threats they up and left, shooting me dirty looks. I did a “ta-da” gesture with my arms, and Zoe laughed as she sat down.

“I have to get your number. You are definitely someone I want to be friends with.” She sighed with relief as she settled onto the seat.

This was a Cinderella fantasy. No way would she want to be my friend when I went back to my regular life. So I smiled at her. “Where’s your husband?”

“I sent him off to get me food. They have In-N-Out at this thing, and I’m starving.”

“Don’t you have people for that?” I asked with a laugh.

“We do. But sometimes I make Chase be the people so his head doesn’t get too big.” There was a small table at kneecap level, and she put her feet up on it and sighed again. “I thought you said you were a seat filler. Who brought you to the party?”

“Well, Noah Douglas did. But not like on a date. He’s just going to give me a ride home after he makes the rounds.”

“Oh. Interesting. The Vanity Fair party is not really a place to bring a not-a-date. I mean, companies pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to be advertisers at this event just to score tickets to it.”

Wow. I had not known that. “Honestly, we’re not even really friends. I groomed his dog once.”

Her eyebrows flew up, and I felt the need to explain. “That’s not a euphemism. I have my own dog-grooming business and he has a dog.”

“We just got a dog. His name is Nemo. If I had my phone, I’d show you a picture. He’s a little cocker spaniel and the sweetest thing. My twins adore him, and he’s so patient with them. We should probably have a groomer, too. Do you have a card?”

Shelby was going to punch me. “I don’t have it with me. If you want to look me up online, my company name is Waggin’ Wheels. Or I’m sure you can have your people call Noah’s people and track me down.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She let out another big sigh.

While I knew about Chase, I realized I’d never read anything about his wife or kids. “Are you an actress, too?”

“Definitely not.” Then we spent a long time chatting as she filled me in on how she ran an ocean conservation nonprofit with her husband and that they did their best to keep their family out of the spotlight. She said they’d met over Twitter, of all places, just before she graduated from college.

“Is it hard?” I asked. “Being married to a movie star?”

“It is. I wouldn’t

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