Jay wanted a blowout the second I landed in L.A. A ridiculous guest list. I shut it down before he even finished his pitch.

“Come on, Emily. Just a soft launch? Your welcome-back era needs champagne.”

“Three days, Jay. I need to unpack my life before I celebrate it.”

He groaned like I’d just canceled his birthday. “Fine. But I’m still doing something. No take-backs.”

That’s how I found myself three nights later in his living room, barefoot, dancing off-beat to a trending ...