He nodded toward the bar. “Buy you a drink?”

She looked back at me and I waved her away. “Go on! I’ll meet you!”

“I’ll be right here!” she yelled, grabbing a stool. Alek was already ordering their drinks.

I nodded, weaving through the crowd and deciding to take a detour upstairs first.

Jim Carrey was one of my little brother, Henry’s, absolute favorites. It was worth a shot, right? He was still standing there near the railing, talking to someone I didn’t recognize-a short, balding guy in a suit.

I dug a receipt out of my purse and climbed the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t disappear before I got to the top.

“Mr. Carrey?” God, this was embarrassing. Was I really doing this? It’s for Henry, I reminded myself, imagining his shock and awe when I gave it to him and told him the story-embellished, of course.

He glanced at me and then did a double-take, his eyes moving first to the plunge in my neckline and then to the hem of my skirt.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said, holding out the receipt and a pen. It was one of TJ’s-it had his name, followed by his title, ‘financial consultant,’ along with his business phone number. That was when I noticed my hands were actually shaking! “But could you sign this?”

He blinked at me for a moment, as if he was considering, and then he smiled brightly, that same smile you see on screen, too big and wide and a little bit fake.

“What’s your name, sweetie?”

“It’s for my brother,” I explained as he took the pen and paper, looking around for a hard surface to write on. “His name is Henry.”

“Turn around,” he told his friend, and the balding guy hesitated for a moment, looking at me-he was staring, really. Then he sighed and turned, leaning over the railing slightly.

“Agents.” Jim grinned at me and it was real this time. “They’ll do anything.”

“Thanks a lot!” the guy mumbled, glancing over his shoulder as Carrey used his back to put the receipt on. “Just because I’ll bend over a railing for you…”