Fame Game 03: Infamous

  “What’s it called?” Drew asked.

  “It’s called ‘Thank You,’” she said.

  And then she sang the song about the girl and the boy who wanted to belong together but didn’t. And how the girl would never forget the boy, not as long as she was still singing.

  She sang it with tears in her eyes. And when she was finished, Drew pulled her into a long, hard hug.

  “You’re going to be amazing,” he whispered into her hair.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Really.”

  And then she waved good-bye to him and walked toward the double doors of Rock It! Records, knowing that her future was riding on the next hour. She hoped beyond hope that everything would be all right.

  33

  TOTALLY UNEXPECTED

  “Hey there, miss, you need a ride?”

  Madison smiled as she pulled open the door of Ryan’s brand-new vintage Mercedes and slid gracefully into the passenger seat.

  He grinned back. “Nice dress.”

  She plucked at the hem of the Alexander McQueen mini. “What, this old thing?” “This old thing” was a serious splurge; it had cost her a cool $1,300. (Which was enough for a down payment on a trailer in Armpit Falls—not that Madison was ever going back there again.) “Nice car,” she added.

  “I thought you might like it,” Ryan said. “I bought it from a friend of my dad’s. He gave me a deal, because he says I found him the perfect dog.” Then he grinned. “You’re not going to believe who it is.”

  Madison widened her eyes. “Not Tiny—”

  Ryan nodded. “Tiny,” he confirmed.

  Madison laughed. “Well, good for Mr. Bitey. I guess he shaped up once he got the taste of the high life.”

  “Beverly Hills is a lot cushier than Lost Paws, that’s for sure.” Ryan pulled into the street, then headed toward Venice. “Gjelina still okay with you?”

  “Sounds great.” Gjelina was his favorite Italian place. In other words, they were not going to an El Segundo hole-in-the-wall or some Topanga Canyon hideaway, the way they used to. Unless Ryan and Madison magically turned invisible, they were going to be seen. Together. In public.

  Which was exactly what had caused all the problems between them last time. But if Ryan wasn’t worried about it anymore, why should she be? Maybe he’d managed to shake his nearly pathological hatred of cameras.

  (Madison had a moment of uncertainty then; should she alert her favorite paparazzo? Because if pictures of her and Ryan were going to appear—and surely they would—shouldn’t they be as flattering as possible? Lorenzo always made her look so glamorous. . . . But then she slipped her phone back in her purse without dialing him. She was going to have to take her chances.)

  “You want to put the top down?” Ryan asked.

  Madison nodded enthusiastically. She didn’t care if it ruined her new blowout. Today was the first truly warm day they’d had in weeks. Yesterday’s rain seemed to have washed the sky clean, and now, in the late afternoon, it was a bright and endless blue.

  Madison watched a mother herding two young daughters across the street. The older one looked quietly furious, and the younger one was wailing. Madison felt a pang of recognition. “So Sophie’s begun an outpatient treatment program,” she said, watching the little one attempt to kick her sister in the shins.

  “Good for her,” Ryan said.

  “Yeah, because a taste of the high life didn’t straighten her out at all.”

  “Maybe this will.”

  “I’m not holding my breath,” Madison said.

  Of course she hoped Sophie got her head together. She had withdrawn her accusations of sexual harassment against Trevor, which was a step in the right direction. Madison suspected, though, that she’d done it for purely selfish reasons: Sophie realized that if she bit the hand that fed her, no other hand was going to show up. Ever. And while she might not have a chance to get back on The Fame Game, there were a hundred other reality TV shows that might welcome her onto their cast.

  Like Psycho Bitches—was that a show? If not, it should be, and Sophie should star in it.

  Ryan cursed under his breath; a giant SUV had just cut into his lane and then slammed on his brakes. “Nice driving, TRY TOFU.”

  Madison squinted. “Is that really what his license plate says?”

  “Yep—do you need glasses or something?”

  As a matter of fact, Madison did. But she didn’t like the way they looked on her, and she was incapable of sticking fingers in her eye to put in contacts.

  “It’s like a cosmic message from Sophie,” she said. “‘I’m doing fine now—try tofu!’”

  “You’re funny,” Ryan said. “And you have a funny family.”

  “That is the world’s biggest understatement,” Madison replied.

  She gazed out the window; now they were stopped in traffic. She could smell exhaust and the faintest hint of early-blooming magnolias. She was struck again by how much she loved L.A. As crazy as it was, and as hard as life there could be, it was home to her.

  “How’s your dad doing?” Ryan asked. “He called the other day, but I missed it.”

  “He claims to have taken up jogging, but I’m going to have to see it to be convinced.”

  Madison still couldn’t believe how friendly Charlie and Ryan had become. Apparently, Charlie was teaching Ryan all about the inner workings of his new-old Mercedes. And maybe, just maybe, Ryan was teaching Charlie how to be a responsible, upstanding human being.

  “He’s coming over for dinner next week,” Madison added. “If you want to join us.”

  “Sure,” Ryan said. “I’ve got this book I told him I’d lend him.”

  Oh, Charlie doesn’t read, Madison wanted to say. But then again, what did she know? She’d also once insisted he didn’t steal, and look how wrong she’d been.

  She’d had a long heart-to-heart with him after Ryan brought him over for their continental breakfast reunion. They had agreed to see each other once a week, at an established time. “Like prison visiting hours,” Charlie had said brightly.

  “Noooo,” Madison had corrected, “like a regular lunch date. You’re in Los Angeles, remember? Not the county pen.”

  It was almost funny, except that it wasn’t. Charlie needed to learn how to act like an adult, for maybe the first time ever. And Madison believed he was capable of it. She just had to make sure that their relationship got rebuilt slowly. Carefully. She’d learned the classic lesson last season: Actions speak louder than words. So Madison wasn’t going to assume Charlie had changed simply because he said so; she was going to make him prove it—over a period of months, if not years.

  And she was going to keep him far, far away from any jewelry stores.

  “Something I’ve been meaning to mention,” Ryan said, bringing her back to the present. “Lost Paws won a really big grant recently, and we’re going to be expanding.”

  “That’s fantastic,” Madison said. “Congratulations.”

  “The cool thing is, we now have the money to hire a general handyman/Guy Friday type. Do you think Charlie would be interested?”

  On impulse, Madison grabbed Ryan’s arm and happily squeezed it. “Oh, that would be perfect,” she said. “He would love it.” Then she realized that her hand was on his bicep—a cheek kiss seemed to be okay, but was fervent grabbing a no-no?—and quickly withdrew it. She sat back in her seat and stared out the window, confused all over again. She didn’t know what was going on between her and Ryan, but whatever it was, she didn’t want to mess it up this time.

  “Good,” Ryan said. “I’ll give him a call.”

  Had he even noticed the way she’d gripped his strong arm? Did he have any idea how much she wanted to touch him again?

  No, probably not.

  She fingered the small diamond studs that she’d bought with her first reality TV show paycheck, back when she was the Bad Girl on L.A. Candy. Then she met her own blue-eyed reflection in the car’s side mirror. You have come such a long way
since then, she thought.

  “I have some news, too,” she offered.

  “Tell me,” Ryan said, trying to peer around the SUV. “And make the story really long, because we’re not moving again anytime soon. I hate the 10 freeway.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to be in front of the cameras that much longer,” Madison said.

  Ryan’s head snapped in her direction. “What?”

  She smiled at his shocked face. “I mean, there are always going to be paparazzi. At least I hope. But I think I’m going to . . . change my focus.”

  “You’re not quitting reality TV, are you?” Madison could hear the hope in his voice, and she tried not to hold it against him.

  “Not exactly. I’m going to produce it,” she said. Saying it made her feel giddy and thrilled, even though nothing was certain yet. “I started a production company, Beauty-land, a long time ago. I stopped paying attention to it for a while, what with all those animal cages I had to clean and dealing with my nightmare of a boss,” she said pointedly, narrowing her eyes at him. He shrugged, smiling. “But I’ve been ramping it back up, and I’ve met with some people at Gallery. They’re interested in working with me.”

  “Wow,” Ryan said. “That’s awesome.”

  She nodded. It was awesome. At this point, two of her ideas had been marked for likely production. She’d sent Jack Stanbro a bottle of Champagne in thanks, and he’d simultaneously sent her one in congratulations; she had a feeling she was going to like working with him.

  She wondered if Kate would be interested in talking to Jack about a show focused on people trying to make it in the music business. Like American Idol but without the whole karaoke feel. The judges would be the various A&R execs. . . . Maybe the performers would all live in a house together. It’d be like The Real World but without the total crazies. And everyone on the music show would have talent. It could be called House of Rock. . . .

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Ryan said.

  “My thoughts are worth way more than that,” Madison teased. But then she told him about all of her ideas, and he offered some of his own, and before they knew it, the traffic had cleared and they were pulling up to the entrance of Gjelina.

  Madison took a deep breath as they exited the car. She wasn’t going to worry about whether or not this was a date, or whether or not she and Ryan had a future. She was simply going to enjoy her time with him. She’d planned out so much of her life. She could afford to let this piece of it unfold naturally.

  “Madison Parker,” cried a voice. “Over here! Give us a smile.”

  She bit her lip and turned to Ryan. “Um—there’s a photographer. I’m sorry. They’re never in Venice. Do you want to turn around and go somewhere else?” She wasn’t sure he was really okay with being photographed—even if he said he was.

  What Ryan did next was totally unexpected. There, on the sidewalk outside Gjelina, in front of strangers, diners, and paparazzi, he took her hand, pulled her closer, and kissed her.

  His lips were warm and soft, and then she was kissing him back, while her heart thudded in her chest and butterflies zipped around in her stomach. She’d never felt this way about anyone—she understood that now more than ever.

  She also understood that Trevor was going to kill her for dating someone who wouldn’t film. But she didn’t care.

  Finally, after all these years, she understood what happiness felt like.

  It felt like this.

  Everything else would come in time. She didn’t know exactly what she wanted next, but she didn’t have to. She was Madison Parker, after all, and whatever it was, she knew she was going to get it.

  EPILOGUE

  MOMENTS IN THE SUN

  Now this was a red carpet, Madison thought, as the door of her town car slowly opened, revealing a crush of people and press outside the Chinese Theater that exploded all around her. She reached up to take Ryan’s outstretched hand, and she could hear the shouts of the crowd getting louder by the minute.

  Ryan looked a little nervous, but he was movie-star handsome in his Ralph Lauren Black Label tux, his hair lighter from the two weeks they’d spent on the beach in Miami. (It was a celebratory vacation, thanks to the excellent news from Jack Stanbro at Gallery.)

  “You ready for this?” Madison asked her boyfriend, smiling.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, smiling back bravely. Over the last six months, since their date at Gjelina had rekindled their romance, he’d seen his picture printed a lot. He still didn’t love it, but he’d learned to take it in stride.

  Up ahead were dozens of screaming girls holding out posters for The End of Love, which was premiering tonight. Madison thought back to the red carpet where she’d first seen Carmen, before she knew they’d be working together on The Fame Game—and how a supposed Madison Parker fan had rudely snubbed her the instant Carmen Curtis appeared. Tonight, though, Madison didn’t feel a single twinge of jealousy. Her own moment in the sun was coming soon, and right now she could afford to let Carmen enjoy hers. Of course, it would be the first of many. Carmen had recently wrapped another movie. She was only a supporting character in it, but it had an amazing cast and was sure to be a hit.

  Speaking of Carmen, the actress was already near the theater entrance, looking chic and romantic (very Julia Capsen, her character in the movie) in a gold, strapless Valentino gown with a long train. Variety had written that she was even better than Gwyneth Paltrow in Shakespeare in Love—and since Gwynnie had taken home an Oscar, things were looking pretty good for the Topanga Canyon silver-spooner.

  Beside Carmen was Luke Kelly, grinning his trademark Aussie smile and waving to the screaming fans like a princess on a parade float. He’d left his new girlfriend at home—or maybe he was between romances. Again. It was hard for Madison to imagine she’d ever thought of having her publicist set up a date with him. She squeezed Ryan’s hand, and he squeezed it back.

  There came another wave of loud cheering, and Madison turned to see Gaby striding up the carpet, beaming. She was toned, not emaciated anymore, thanks to her hours of practice and performance on Dancing with the Stars.

  Who could have imagined that being on another reality show would be the best thing for Gaby? She’d quit drinking again, this time for good, and she’d managed to beat her addiction to Botox. And, to top it all off, she’d actually won the dance competition. When the results came out, no one was prouder—or more surprised—than Madison. (But she had to admit, Gaby did do a kickass tango.)

  Madison motioned for Gaby to join her and Ryan near the bank of photographers. Gaby was unescorted, but her new boyfriend (her dance instructor, Isaac) would be joining them later, along with Lily, who was just getting back from a shoot in Las Vegas. Jay had found his way home to Long Beach, and no one had heard from Fawn at all. Neither, as far as Madison could tell, was missed.

  “You look great, Gab,” Madison said, giving her roommate a hug.

  “You too,” Gaby said breathlessly. “You picked the Marchesa!”

  Madison nodded. “And my own accessories,” she said, fingering the layered gold necklaces at her throat. They lacked the diamonds that her past red-carpet necklaces had boasted, but they had been a gift from Ryan, so they were worth much more. Besides, while Charlie had been behaving himself perfectly since his return, there was no reason to tempt him with more diamonds.

  The two of them posed for photos together for a minute, then turned back to each other.

  “Have you seen Kate?” Gaby asked.

  Madison shook her head. “She probably got mobbed by eleven-year-olds even before she got to the carpet.” Kate’s most recent single, “Thank You,” had been a major hit, and Rock It! was releasing her first album in a matter of weeks. Everyone was expecting it to be a smash, a perfect mix of folk-pop sweetness and indie bite.

  Drew Scott was a producer on it, not to mention the cowriter on a handful of the songs. Once Kate got over her interest in hyper-produced music, they’d become a good team
. Romantically, though, things had never really worked out between the two of them. (Madison suspected it might have something to do with the not-so-secret torch he carried for Carmen.)

  “It turned out we were better in the studio than the bedroom,” Kate had confessed. “But hey, at this point in my career? I’ll take a good producer over a good boyfriend any day.”

  An admirable sentiment, Madison thought. But seeing as how Kate had been spotted around town with a young and handsome oil heir lately, maybe she was having her cake and eating it too.

  “Madison, over here. Turn this way!” cried a photographer, and Madison obligingly gave him her best angle. (Although, really, she didn’t have a bad one.)

  Yes, things were looking good for everyone on The Fame Game. Well, almost. Sophie was on some unnamed island off the South American coast, filming a knockoff I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here. Her communication with Madison was sporadic, thanks to the whole living-in-a-mud-hut thing, but from what Madison could tell, Sophie was seriously regretting her involvement. What was it she’d said? Something about not having toilet paper and eating fire-roasted crickets . . . ?

  Poor thing! If Sophie ever made it back, maybe Madison would offer her a job as a PA on one of her two new shows with Gallery.

  Or maybe not.

  The first show was reality TV—Madison’s specialty, obviously—but the second was actually a scripted comedy . . . about reality TV. (Hey, you write what you know.) Madison had sketched out the pilot, Jack Stanbro had set her up with a team of writers, and lo and behold, she was an executive producer of the future hit, Get Real.

  Madison wondered if Trevor Lord had had any inkling of the success his girls would enjoy back when he assembled his TFG cast. Or of his own rise up the ranks of PopTV. She smiled, thinking of him. She loved to give Trevor a hard time, but she’d always be grateful to him for helping her become the star she was destined to be.

  “Well,” Ryan said, “I’ve had about enough of this posing. What about you?”