“Veronica?” It was her annoying little assistant, Diego. “Madison Parker here to see you.”
Madison Parker? What did that publicity hound want now? Madison had approached Veronica at a movie premiere and introduced herself. Since then, she had been to the Gossip office a couple of times to see her, trying to peddle “juicy inside stories” in exchange for puff pieces about her own “rising career.” Unfortunately, Madison’s idea of “juicy” never amounted to much. And her “rising career”? Girls like her were a dime a dozen in L.A. She was lucky if she had a future selling Cellulite Busterz or organic cat food on the Home Shopping Network. Still, Veronica knew from experience that a good piece of info sometimes came from the unlikeliest of sources. You never know what you’ll find in the trash.
“Fine. Send her in.”
A moment later, Madison breezed through the door. As always, she was immaculately dressed—this time in a formfitting pearl gray dress with a plunging V neckline.
“Veronica,” Madison said pleasantly as she slid smoothly into a leather chair. “Thanks so much for seeing me.”
“I have a meeting in five minutes.”
“No problem,” Madison said. “I just wanted to pass on some information that you might find…interesting.”
Veronica straightened some papers on her desk. “Yes? What?”
Madison leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “It’s about Gaby Garcia. She was at Les Deux last night for the Dead at Dusk video game launch party and she totally went home with Aaron Daly. I have pictures of them all over each other.”
“Madison,” Veronica said flatly. “Why you think I’d care about the questionable mating habits of Hollywood nothings is beyond me.”
Veronica watched as Madison went through what looked like the five stages of grief before her beady little eyes landed on the spread of pictures on the desk—pictures of her costar Jane Roberts. Veronica noticed how the wannabe starlet’s eyes narrowed. Isn’t that interesting?
“You and Jane are good friends, right?” Veronica asked.
Madison looked up. She seemed to consider this, and then said, “You’ve seen the show. What do you think?”
Getting snippy with me isn’t going to get you in the mag, honey. “Let me put it this way: How badly do you want to be profiled in Gossip?” Veronica asked. She knew she was taking a risk, but after years in Hollywood, she also knew how powerful a motivator jealousy was. And somewhere in the sweet little story about Jane and Jesse’s sweet little romance, there was a time bomb waiting to go off. It was up to Veronica to be there at the very second it happened, so Gossip could be the first to run it—in full, fabulous, gory detail. And if by some chance there wasn’t a time bomb after all…well, creating explosions was something Veronica was very, very good at.
Staying true to form, Madison barely hesitated before asking, “What do I have to do?”
“Find out what is really going on with Jesse and Jane,” Veronica said. “There is no way he isn’t cheating on her. I want names and I want photos.”
Madison seemed to consider this. “I could do that.”
“Good.” Veronica glanced pointedly at her watch. “Don’t come back until you have something.”
“Fine.”
Veronica waited until the girl was gone before allowing herself a slow, satisfied smile. She had an instinct that this arrangement just might yield results, and her instincts were usually dead-on. That little nobody might be good for something.
38
BIRTHDAY BOY
“I’m nervous,” Jane whispered to Scarlett as they headed into Goa. One of the L.A. Candy cameramen was at the door, filming their entrance.
Scarlett looked her up and down. “Why? You look so pretty in that dress, and those peep-hole shoes are hot.”
“Peep-toe,” Jane corrected Scarlett, smoothing her black silk minidress. Scarlett prided herself on being ignorant about fashion. On the other hand, ever since L.A. Candy had been on the air, Jane had gotten all sorts of free dresses and shoes to wear—including the ones she had on now—from publicists representing various designers. It was all so they could get that coveted line in a magazine, “Jane Roberts at Il Sole, wearing a black minidress by so-and-so designer.” Jane had begun ripping the address sticker off the front of the boxes and saying they had been sent for both girls. It didn’t really make a difference because most of the things that were sent, Scarlett was more likely to bury in her closet than actually wear. Tonight, Scar was dressed in her usual jeans paired with a black silk tee. “It’s just that it’s the first time my friends and Jesse are gonna hang out, you know?” Jane went on. “Not to mention we’re totally late. And it’s his birthday. So I want everyone to have a good time and get along.”
Scarlett put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “Translation: You don’t want me to be a bitch to him.”
Jane stared meaningfully at her friend. “Something like that.”
“Got it.”
Really? Jane thought. Lately Scar had been even more stubborn and difficult than usual. These days, Jane was having a hard time connecting with her best friend and confiding in her about stuff—especially her relationship with Jesse. They’d driven to Santa Barbara together last Thursday to have Thanksgiving dinner with their respective families. Scar had made so many sarcastic comments about Jesse on the way up that Jane felt like she had to say something. There was something about driving that made having difficult conversations easier.
“I know you don’t trust Jesse because of his reputation,” Jane had said to Scarlett. “But I’m the one who’s been dating him for the last month. Don’t you think I’d know better than the tabloids? Why can’t you be happy for me?”
Scarlett had been quiet for a few moments, staring out the window, and Jane wasn’t sure if she was going to respond. Then finally Scarlett turned to her and said, “Okay. You’re right. I’ll give him a chance. If he’s the person you say he is, then I’m happy for you.”
They had left it at that. And Scarlett hadn’t made any nasty remarks about Jesse since. But she hadn’t been particularly warm to him the few times he’d been over either. Jane could tell Scarlett hadn’t changed her mind about Jesse, but she was trying to keep her criticisms to herself.
If Scarlett doesn’t behave tonight… Jane didn’t finish her thought. She wasn’t sure where she was going with this. Would she give Scar an ultimatum, like start being nice to Jesse or we’re not friends anymore? That seemed kind of extreme. Still, in more ways than one, it felt like she and Scarlett had been drifting apart lately. Was it just a phase they were going through or something more?
Once inside, Jane tucked her red clutch under her arm and glanced around, looking for Jesse’s table.
“Can I help you?” a server dressed all in black asked her.
“I’m looking for Jesse Edwards’s table.”
“Right this way.”
The waiter led Jane and Scarlett upstairs, to a more intimate room, where Jesse sat at a corner table covered with piles of presents and colorful cocktails. Two set lights hung overhead. Several L.A. Candy cameras were already there, shooting.
“Jane!” Jesse called out, waving. He quickly stood up, looking a little unstable, but still totally gorgeous in his black suit and white collared shirt with no tie.
Jane smiled uncertainly at him. She and Scarlett were only twenty minutes late, but in that time Jesse had clearly gotten a head start on the birthday cocktails. He seemed…drunk. She had seen him drink before. But they had spent most of their nights at quiet restaurants and movies, not clubs.
Jane went up to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Happy birthday,” she whispered in his ear.
Jesse clasped her in a hug. It felt too tight, too intense. “I’m sooo fucking happy you’re here,” he whispered back, his words sounding slightly muffled. “It wasn’t a party until you got here. Hey, let me introduce you to my friends.”
“’Kay,” Jane said. She wasn’t sure
what to make of Jesse’s…state. On the other hand, it was his birthday. His twenty-first, in fact. Maybe the guy was entitled. It’s just that she would have felt a little more comfortable if the whole thing wasn’t being filmed. Relax, Jane, she told herself.
She turned and surveyed the table. Madison and Gaby were already there, sitting on the other end. Madison’s magenta satin strapless sheath contrasted with the pale pink of Gaby’s baby-doll dress. They both blew kisses at her, then returned to flirting with two cute guys with identical buzz haircuts.
On the other side of the two guys were D and Hannah, whom Jane had invited at the last minute. She was glad they’d made it.
“Hi, sweeties!” D called out, toasting Jane and Scarlett with his dirty martini. Was that a purple velvet smoking jacket he was sporting? “You are both to die for. And Jane? Your new friend Hannah here? Love!”
“Hi, Jane!” Hannah said, smiling shyly. She looked really pretty in a mocha shift dress with a loose bow accenting the V neckline.
“Hey, guys! Hannah, this is my friend Scarlett I told you about. Scar, this is Hannah, from the office,” Jane said.
“Hi, Hannah-from-the-office. Nice to meet you,” Scarlett said, waving.
Jane sucked in a breath when she spotted who was sitting across from D and Hannah. Braden. And next to him, Willow. Jane and Braden locked eyes for a moment. He smiled and gave her a little wave. She smiled back. Seeing Willow at his side, it occurred to Jane that maybe his silence or distance or absence or whatever had nothing to do with her and Jesse. Maybe he’d just been too busy with Willow.
“…and these are my boys from high school, Antonio, Nelson, Howard, and Zach,” Jesse was saying, pointing to the two guys with the same haircut and two other guys sitting near them. “And this is Tracey—”
“Trish,” the girl—a striking blonde—corrected him with a giggle.
“Sorry, Trish, Winona, Ella, Starlie, and Lela,” Jesse finished, going down a row of cute, mostly blond girls. “You already know Braden and Willow. Hey, everybody, this is Jane. And this is her friend Scarlett.”
“Hey,” Jane said, waving politely.
“So I’m gonna need a drink and a seat, birthday boy,” Scarlett told Jesse. Jane smiled to herself. Good. At least Scar was trying.
“Straight to the point, huh? My kinda girl. Come, you sit next to me,” Jesse said, taking Scarlett’s hand and pulling her in his direction.
Jane frowned, confused. At that moment, Madison raised her cell phone in the air and snapped a quick picture of Jesse and Scarlett. “Scarlett, love your shirt!” Madison called out cheerfully.
Scarlett ignored Madison and glanced at Jane, then Jesse. “Uh…not that I want to deny you on your special day but that’s Jane’s seat. I’m gonna sit over there,” she said, pointing to the end of the table where D was enthusiastically waving her over.
“Sure, whatever! Zach, I gotta go to the men’s room. You gotta go to the men’s room?”
“Yeah, man, I gotta go to the men’s room.” The guy named Zach rose from his seat and nodded his head in the direction of the bathrooms. He and Jesse disappeared before Jane had even had a chance to sit down.
Jane stared after them and took her seat. What the hell was going on? Why had Jesse asked Scarlett to sit next to him? And since when did guys go to the bathroom together? She twisted a lock of her hair around her finger. This was not how she had imagined the evening. Not at all. She gripped her clutch nervously, and felt the outlines of her birthday present to Jesse inside.
Jane ordered a vodka soda from the server and sunk back into the couch. She watched one of the flickering lights on the table as the conversation and laughter rose and swelled around her. Five minutes passed, then ten. Various people asked her questions (“How long have you and Jesse been dating?” “Where’d you get that dress?” “Do you live in L.A.?”), and she was vaguely aware of answering them, but her mind was totally not present. Where was Jesse? He had been gone for almost fifteen minutes. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane noticed Braden watching her. He looked…worried. Sympathetic.
Feeling more uncomfortable by the minute, Jane started scanning the restaurant for Jesse. She spotted him from the balcony, weaving through the busy tables down below. He had his arm around some tall blond girl with serious boobs. Zach was following right behind, sandwiched between two tall, busty blondes of his own. Jane felt as though she had been kicked in the stomach. She bit her lip, trying not to cry. She turned her head to see if anyone else had noticed. She saw that Scarlett had spotted him as well. D and Hannah were both looking over at her with worried expressions. Great, I have an audience for my humiliation, she thought. Madison was pushing buttons on her cell phone and seemed oblivious.
Scarlett got up from her seat and rushed over to Jane. “Jane? You wanna go? This party’s lame,” she said in a low, angry voice.
Jane rose uncertainly to her feet. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom first,” she mumbled. “Just wait for me here?” She took off just as Jesse and his entourage arrived at the table. She didn’t want to be there for that.
When she got to the women’s bathroom, there was a long line of pissed-off-looking girls. “This sucks. Why do clubs always have at least one broken stall?” one girl complained.
“If this keeps up, I’m gonna pee in that fancy potted plant over there,” another girl piped up.
“Do your coke somewhere else!” a third girl shouted at the closed door marked W.
Ignoring the commotion, Jane crossed her arms over her chest and waited. She tried not to think about Jesse. In their few short weeks together, he had been practically perfect. She had come this close to falling for him. She knew he liked to drink. So did she. But she had never seen him drink this much. And she had never seen him even look at another girl, much less let one hang all over him. What had changed? Or was this the real Jesse?
Jane’s head was spinning as she finally stepped inside the bathroom and shut the door. Once alone, she leaned over the cold, white porcelain toilet for several minutes, oblivious to the long line of impatient girls outside, oblivious to everything but the anxiety welling up inside her. Her face felt hot, sweaty. Her palms were shaking. Deep breaths, she told herself. But deep breathing did nothing to quell the rising tide of panic. She felt so sick. She felt a wave of nausea overtake her.
It was pitch-black outside when Jane woke up to the sound of her cell ringing on her nightstand. She groaned sleepily, reached over, and checked the number. Jesse. Again. He had been calling and texting her all night.
“Leave me alone,” Jane mumbled at the phone, and tossed it on the floor.
Jane felt awful. She was so mad at Jesse for making her look pathetic in front of everyone. But she was even madder at herself. She had ignored what everyone had said and allowed Jesse to do the same thing to her that he had probably done to every other girl he’d dated.
What was so hard was that despite his behavior, she still cared about him. He had hurt her, but a part of her still wanted to see him again.
You idiot, Jane thought to herself as she looked at the wrapped present on the floor.
There was a framed picture of them inside. The picture was from one of those cheesy photo booths (she and Jesse had gone into one after seeing a movie together). The photo—four photos, actually—was a skinny strip of goofy black-and-whites: Jane and Jesse smiling; Jane and Jesse laughing; Jane and Jesse kissing; Jesse and Jane kissing some more and holding up their palms, as if to shield themselves from the paparazzi. The photos were so…them. Jane had framed the strip herself, wrapped the whole thing in pretty wrapping paper, and tucked it into her purse, to give to him after his birthday party, when they were alone.
It was her silly-shy-totally-awkward-Jane way of telling him how she felt about him. Because she was—or at least, she had been—pretty sure that he felt the same way about her.
Her phone started ringing again. Jane reached down and turned it off. Then threw it at the wall, hoping it would break int
o a million tiny pieces.
39
HOLLYWOOD’S NEWEST IT GIRL
“Do you think she’s gonna break up with him?” Gaby asked Madison the next morning, over lattes at Starbucks. “I totally would. Or maybe she already broke up with him. Have you talked to her?”
“Hmmm,” Madison said absentmindedly. She was too busy checking out the latest issue of Talk magazine. Inside was a photo of Jane with the blazing red headline: HOLLYWOOD’S NEWEST IT GIRL!
WTF, Madison thought, irritated.
“On the other hand, he’s super-hot, and he’s super-rich, right?” Gaby went on, studying her nails. “So maybe with a guy like that, you let him get trashed and flirt with girls once in a while, as long as he makes it up to you later with nice presents. Like something that sparkles!” She giggled.
Madison turned the page, which featured a full-page spread about Jane and “her #1 new hit show, L.A. Candy.” Her show? When had it become her show? It was supposed to be a show starring all four girls. Of course, Scarlett’s part was becoming more and more diminished as the season rolled on. The producers had to consistently cut out most of her footage because viewers didn’t get her. Sure, she was gorgeous. But different. Too different. And kind of a loose cannon. On the show, she was meant to be seen, not heard. Madison wondered if she would even be on the next season. Well, if not—then good riddance.
Madison continued reading the article. It went on and on about how viewers related to Jane because, even though she lived a glamorous life, she still had that “every girl” quality.
“Every girl” quality? Gag.
And then the next line caught Madison’s eye. “Jane is the breakout star on L.A. Candy.”
Madison could feel the blood rushing to her head. Calm down, she told herself, feeling that she was about two seconds away from picking up her piping-hot latte and flinging it across the Starbucks patio at some poor, unsuspecting customer. Damn it. Damn it! How dare this so-called magazine treat her like this?