Yet as they passed, the two women stopped and spun around. “Oh my God! Look at the cute doggy!” one of them squealed. Her voice was so high that Kera actually winced.

“Oh my God!” she said again, hitting even higher notes this time, and running over to Brodie. She knelt down and began petting Kera’s dog. “You are the cutest thing! Just the cutest thing ever! What’s your name?” she said in a voice one might use on a baby. “What’s your name? You must have a cute name! I bet it’s the cutest name ever!”

The other Crow gazed at Kera and finally asked, “Well . . . what’s her name?” Kera felt her eye twitch at the woman’s tone. It was unbearably haughty and annoyed all at the same time.

“Brodie Hawaii.”

“I knew it!” the one kneeling by Brodie squealed. “I knew you’d have a cute name! You are just the cutest thing ever!”

Letting Brodie lick her face, the woman asked, “Can she come running with us?”

“ No. ”

It was like the world stopped at her one word answer. The three women focused on Kera, their mouths open in shock. Then Kera realized that Brodie was staring at her, too. As if the dog couldn’t believe she’d just told them no.

Good God, what was happening?

Feeling pressure, Kera quickly explained, “She doesn’t have a leash or collar, and I don’t feel comfortable just letting her—”

“Oh, no problem.” The woman stood, smiled. “We’ll get her everything she needs.”

“I—”

“Would you like that, beautiful Brodie Hawaii?” she asked the dog. The dog. “Would you like to come with us and get a pretty new collar and leash and yummies? Would you like some yummies?”

“I would rather that I choose her—”

“Please?” the woman begged. “Please? We promise to take good care of her. We won’t let anything happen to her. And there’s this great place on PCH that sells the best designer dog stuff.”

“She doesn’t need—”

“Thank you!” the woman cheered, gripping Kera in a bear hug. “Come on, Brodie! We’re going to have so much fun!”

She walked off and Kera’s dog followed. Without question. Not even a look back at Kera like, “Is it okay, Mom?” She just followed the high-pitched female. Maybe that was it. The woman’s voice was so annoying and high that dogs were forced to follow.

The other woman gazed at Kera for a moment and asked, “Are you planning to go into acting?”

Kera shook her head, not sure why the woman was asking. “No.”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t. You have a great, exotic look that could probably get you some work in rapper videos. But those thighs, sweetie.” She bared her teeth in a grimace that Kera could feel nothing but insulted by. “It’s probably for the best,” she finished on a whisper. Then she followed her friend who’d just stolen Kera’s dog.

Kera turned and stared at her teammate until Annalisa said, “How about I get you to Paula so you can get moving on themoney issue. That process can be time-consuming.”

“Those two women have my dog . . . and they insulted my thighs.”

“They’re casting directors. That’s why.”

Kera took a step back. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“That’s why they asked you if you wanted to act. A lot of newbies come here and that’s what they want to do with their second lives. Become actors. But some of them think that they may have the look for the new action movie filming in downtown L.A., but they really don’t.”

“I don’t want to be an actor.”

Annalisa shrugged. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t need anybody insulting my thighs while stealing my dog.”

“They’re breaking it to you now so that you don’t have to hear about it from some other casting director who won’t take the time to be nearly as nice.”

“They weren’t nice.”

“Of course they were nice. They didn’t say a word about your square-shaped body.”

“My square . . . what?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal.”

“But they stole my dog!”

“They’ll bring her back. Are you always so distrustful?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.”

“Name’s Paula,” the older woman told Kera as she sat behind her big mahogany desk. She had long gray hair that she wore in a braid down her back and a small tattoo under her eye that suggested she’d done prison time. “I handle the day-to-day business of the Crows.”

Kera sat down on the other side of the desk. The office was big but stuffed to the ceiling with boxes filled with—Kera assumed—paperwork. It was like being trapped in a hoarder’s house.

“So,” Paula began, “how are you fitting in?”

“Well—”

“Great. Now, we retrieved your backpack from that coffee shop. Don’t ask how,” Paula barreled on, dropping the black backpack onto the desk. “It still has your ID, credit cards, and such. Also some cash.”

“You went through my bag?”

“Yeah. To see what you need, which is apparently a lot.” She opened a folder and took out papers.

“Here’s the info for your bank account with Malibu Central. They’re about five miles from here, right off PCH. It’s part of a Crow-owned and -funded bank system. All stateside Crow money goes through there so we don’t have to worry about losing it if there are any more federal bank problems. Plus, we’re connected to the Swiss Crow banks, so we’re covered internationally, too. You have your own account. Here’s a debit card and a credit card. This paperwork has your passwords and PIN numbers. Please don’t carry that with you as some of our sisters have done. They freak out when they lose it and we have to change everything. It’s a pain in the ass—don’t do it. And since you seem to be the paranoid type—”