I agreed to another round. It was irresponsible, perhaps even foolish. But after we’d sealed the deal on how we’d “met” each other, I heard him say, “Another?” and I agreed.

I couldn’t imagine calling a cab, going home to that depressing house with my equally depressing roommates, and falling into my sad excuse for a bed alone. Not after all of this excitement. After four years of boredom—boring guys, with boring jobs, who all said the same boring things—I was finally out with someone who inspired me. I wanted to be the “dream” girl I’d always imagined myself to be. I wanted to flirt. I wanted to giggle at Billy Jay Johnston’s jokes until I felt delirious.

The alcohol continued to flow. Billy told me very small details about his past, saying that when he’d been “too young to know better,” he’d joined the army and gone to Afghanistan. Unsure of how to respond, I’d frowned, wondering if he’d seen combat. But in response, he’d just waved his hands over his whiskey glass and joked.

“With most guys, their dads really want them to join the army. To make a name for themselves. With my dad, it was the opposite.” He laughed at this, clearly fighting his harsh feelings.

“We all have fucked-up relationships to our parents, don’t we?” I asked him, shrugging slightly. “I mean, I don’t think I know a single person who doesn’t approach the world without some kind of hurdle. My mum is completely alone back in Coventry. She calls me at all hours of the day and night. I miss her; I do. And a part of me wishes I could bring her here. But what for? I’m never going to make it as an actress. It was a younger girl’s dream, and now I’m just playacting until I’m too old to work at the agency.”

Our jokes had shifted, revealing our bleak realities. Before the mood grew too somber, Billy lifted his hand, and ordered a round of tequila shots. The next minute, we were knocking first one, and then two shots back. The alcohol burned my tongue, the back of my throat, and I shivered, looking into Billy’s eyes.

As we stood to pay, I bumped into him, and he wrapped his firm arm around me. As I leaned easily into his body, I knew that we would be a good fit, if we let it happen.

Billy smacked a hundred-dollar bill on the counter of the bar and then led me out into the parking lot, not bothering to pick up change.

“You really might be a businessman, if you can toss around that kind of money all the time,” I said, slurring a little.

“I’m an architect, baby,” he joked, kissing my forehead—avoiding my lips. “Oh, that’s another thing. I don’t think we should be using our real names. Who do you want to be?”

“Who do I want to be?” It was such a strange question to hear out loud, as I’d always wondered it of myself, as well. Bringing myself away from his body, I gazed into his eyes, searching. “Why don’t you name me?” I asked him.

“When I look at you, I see Ruby,” Billy said. His voice was husky, his eyes sensual. “I can’t see anything else.”

“Then I’m Claire,” I said, taking my grandmother’s name—it sounded classy enough. “Claire Harrington. The English Rose you plucked from the top of the London Eye.”

I thought surely he would kiss me, then. The heat between us was intense, forcing me to take a step back. Silence fell, and a long pause, measured by my heartbeats, drew out. I licked my lips nervously.

“And what will you call yourself?”

“I’m just Mike,” Billy answered, moving away from me, back toward the street. “Just Mike Mansfield. Mike and Claire. A match made in heaven, don’t you think?”

I didn’t answer, because I couldn’t find the words, so I just nodded.

“I think we should call it a night,” he said. “But before I go, give me your number so I can text you our plans for later.”

Realizing I was too drunk to type the numbers into his phone, I recited them to Billy. Then, I watched as he spun back down the road and began to stride away from me. His steps were long and sure, making him look dominant and powerful. His shadow grew long beneath the streetlamps. I watched him skirt around the corner, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t invited me back to his place. I called for a taxi and then threw myself in the back, my head rolling with the events of the day.

That morning, I had been panicked about when I’d have the money to return to England. When I’d have enough money to face my fears—and give up on acting. But with a thousand dollars, I could afford a one-way ticket and flee Los Angeles if I wanted to.

No matter how much I was attracted to Billy Jay Johnston, I knew he wasn’t the type to stick around long. It was better that we didn’t cross the boundaries of business associates. The world was filled with attractive, charismatic men. I didn’t have to sleep with this one in particular. It would just complicate things, I told myself. But that didn’t do anything to dampen my desire for him.