LAUREN
CONRAD

Sugar and Spice AN L.A. CANDY NOVEL

This book is dedicated to Maura, Lo, Jillian, Natania, and Britton because they have always been there for me. I am honored to call them my very best friends.

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

1 NOT DATING

2 BEST FRIENDS

3 SECOND CHANCES … SECOND THOUGHTS

4 ARE YOU SERIOUS?

5 THE OPPOSITE OF A NOBODY

6 HISTORY

7 NOT JUST A FRIEND

8 YOU HAVE TO LIE TO PEOPLE IF IT’S FOR THEIR OWN GOOD

9 ARMPIT FALLS

10 SO WHO’S THE GUY?

11 BOYS

12 SOPHISTICATED TO SUPER-SLUTTY

13 BOY TROUBLE

14 DÉJÀ VU

15 THE TWO SISTERS

16 OR MAYBE YOU’RE JUST BEING DELUSIONAL, AS USUAL

17 THE PERFECT GUY

18 KIND OF THE TRUTH

19 SHE SAID, SHE SAID

20 GOSSIP FEST

21 THE OTHER TEAM’S PLAYBOOK

22 FAME AND FORTUNE

23 BIRTHDAY GIRL

24 TWO STEPS AHEAD

25 JUST US GIRLS

26 RELATIONSHIP PROBLEMS

27 THAT CRAZY, LOVESICK GIRL

28 THE CENTERPIECE OF L.A. CANDY

29 ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY, MADLY

30 WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS

31 SURVIVOR

32 HOW AWESOME WAS THAT?

33 REAL LIFE

34 BECOMING NOBODIES

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

BOOKS BY LAUREN CONRAD

D-LISH (GOSSIP YOU HATE TO LOVE)

Copyright

About the Publisher

1 NOT DATING

“Over here!”

“Let’s get a shot of the two of you!”

“Smile, girls!”

Jane Roberts felt hands on her shoulders—her publicist? random PopTV assistants?—maneuver her into place as several paparazzi shouted out to her and Scarlett Harp. Nearby, dozens of fans waved wildly, screamed the girls’ names, and snapped photos with their cell phones.

Scarlett bent her head toward Jane’s. “What are the rules on skipping the red carpet at your own premiere?”

“Ha-ha,” Jane said, grinning. “Think you’re gonna have a hard time getting out of this one, Scar.”

“I’m giving them five minutes, then heading inside for a drink. Something tells me I’m gonna need it tonight.”

“Good luck. I think we’re stuck here till, like, seven thirty. Besides, live television and booze aren’t the best combination. And I’m pretty sure the two drinks you had at dinner should tide you over.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Flashbulbs began popping brightly. Jane took a deep breath, fixed a smile on her face, and tried not to feel overwhelmed. Of course PopTV made sure the media was out in full force on the red carpet for L.A. Candy’s Season 2 premiere. Their little show had somehow become the top rated on the network, and a lot was riding on the premiere. The party would air live on PopTV, to be immediately followed by the episode itself.

Jane glanced over her shoulder at the sprawling lawn of the magnificent Spanish-style Hollywood Hills mansion. Hundreds of people were at this event: photographers, fans, and an assortment of entertainment industry types. On a makeshift stage near the infinity pool, pop star Aja was revving up to sing. There were TV cameras everywhere.

PopTV really knew how to throw a party!

“Scarlett, turn more to the left,” a photographer shouted.

“Stand closer together!” another one added.

Jane obeyed, never breaking her smile. After all, as one of the four main girls on L.A. Candy, tonight was work, not play (even though she had to act as though she was having fun).

But Scarlett wasn’t quite so understanding. “Good thing they’re here to tell me how to pose for a picture. I couldn’t have figured it out without them,” she muttered. She glared at a PopTV assistant who was coming toward her with a powder brush; the assistant backed off.

“Scar!” Jane whispered.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m trying my best.”

As the photographers continued shouting directions and taking pictures—why was it taking soooo long?—Jane kept her smile in place and resisted the impulse to touch her long, blond, wavy hair, which felt stiff and weird from the insane amount of hair spray the PopTV stylists had subjected it to. Nor was she totally comfortable in her black ruffle dress by a new designer named Mario Nuñez, which accentuated her five-foot-five, sort-of-in-shape figure nicely, but made her feel way older than her nineteen years. Nunez’s publicist had worked it out with Jane’s publicist: a free dress for Jane in exchange for publicity for Nuñez. (Jane could see the magazine caption now: “Jane Roberts rocks a Nuñez strapless at the L.A. Candy premiere!”)

Before famed producer Trevor Lord chose her to be on his new reality TV show, Jane had no idea that so many “spontaneous” celebrity photos (“Anna Payne stocks up on pumpkin soap at Lush!” “Jared Walsh hand-feeds sushi to Brazilian supermodel Catarina at Geisha House!”) were actually prearranged by publicists. Of course, before L.A. Candy, Jane had been clueless about what really went on in Hollywood. Now that she was a celebrity (although she still had a hard time thinking of herself that way), her life had completely changed. She and Scar were no longer the anonymous girls from Santa Barbara who moved to L.A. seven months ago, Jane to intern with a top event planner, and Scar to be a freshman at USC. Back then, the girls didn’t wear nine-hundred-dollar designer dresses that they didn’t have to pay for, and paparazzi didn’t try to record their every move.

“Gaby! Let’s get you in the picture, honey!” one of the publicists called out.

Gaby Garcia, the third L.A. Candy girl, waved to the photographers as she walked up to Jane and Scarlett. “Hey, have you been inside yet? There are soooo many hot guys here!” she gushed.

“Hey, Gaby,” Jane said. She liked Gaby, who could be a little spacey but was sweet and easy to hang out with. She looked pretty tonight in a pale mocha sequined slip dress.

Scarlett wrapped an arm around Gaby’s shoulders. The two of them had become fast friends in the last few months, which Jane thought was kind of funny, because they couldn’t be more different. “Hey, stranger. What’s new?”

“Not much. Oh, yeah, I got highlights!” Gaby patted her light brown updo and peered around. “Where’s Madison? Shouldn’t she be in the picture, too?”

Madison. Jane pretended to adjust her dress in an attempt to mask her reaction to Gaby’s comment. She couldn’t let the photographers—or anyone else—see her lose her cool. If she and Gaby and Scarlett were going to discuss Madison at all, it was better to do so “backstage” behind a locked bathroom door, not on the red carpet where every word and facial expression was being noted, recorded, scrutinized.

The fourth girl on the show, Madison Parker, was the last person Jane wanted to see tonight—or ever (although of course she was here, somewhere, so an encounter was inevitable). Three months ago, just before Christmas, Madison secretly leaked photos of Jane hooking up with her then-boyfriend Jesse’s best friend, Braden. When the story broke in Gossip magazine, Jane almost had a breakdown, and Madison pretended to be a good friend and came to her rescue, holding her hand through the entire painful, humiliating ordeal. Madison even let Jane move into her penthouse apartment after Jane and Scar had a big fight.

After she found out what Madison had done, Jane packed her bags and moved back in with Scar, full of apologies. That was on Valentine’s Day, five weeks ago, and Jane and Madison hadn’t spoken since. Jane had told Trevor in no uncertain terms that she would not film any scenes with Madison ever again. She still couldn’t believe she had fallen for Madison’s act, or that she had chosen a backstabber like Madison over Scar, who had been her best friend since kindergarten.

Scarlett squeezed Jane’s hand and turned to Gaby. “Madison’s probably getting an emergency Botox treatment,” she said, too low for anyone else to hear. “I guess her mom never told her that being a manipulative, lying bitch can cause wrinkles.”

“Funny,” Gaby said, giggling awkwardly. She was obviously uncomfortable poking fun at Madison. Gaby and Madison were close, or they used to be, anyway. Jane wasn’t sure where things stood between them these days. Jane wondered if Gaby felt weird being friends with Madison, even though Madison hadn’t done anything to her personally, because Gaby was friends with Jane and Scarlett, too, and maybe she was worried about seeming disloyal to one or the other side?

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw Dana, one of the PopTV producers, hurrying across the lawn toward them, clipboard in hand. The woman looked super-stressed, as usual. And she was dressed in all black again, except her outfit was more tailored and less faded than her standard attire. She had even put on makeup, which was saying a lot, considering that the most Jane had ever seen on her face were the remains of her morning muffin.

“Okay, everyone, thanks, but I need to talk to the girls,” Dana said loudly, ushering Jane, Scarlett, and Gaby toward the end of the press line and off the red carpet. “Listen up, ladies. In”—she squinted at her watch—”ten minutes, Alli’s going to take you over to the back terrace so you can get miked for the intro segment kicking off the party. There will be people to touch up your hair and makeup. As soon as we’re done shooting that, we’ll move you over to the statue garden for a segment leading into the first commercial break. And then … let’s see … Jane, I’m going to need you to do another segment, to introduce Aja. Everyone’s lines will be up on the teleprompters, so don’t worry about that.”

“Why can’t I introduce Aja? She’s, like, my favorite singer ever!” Gaby complained.

“That’s fine with me,” Jane offered.

Dana gave Gaby an impatient look. Gaby pouted and mumbled, “Okay, whateverrrrr.”

“Ten minutes, all right?” Dana reminded them. “Alli will … What, Ramon?” she barked into her headset. “What do you mean Hannah’s got the flu? Well, is she throwing up? We need her to—” Dana hurried away. Hannah Stratton, who worked with Jane at Fiona Chen Events, was on the show from time to time. She and Jane were good friends, on and off camera. Jane hoped she was okay.

“Sorry about Aja,” Jane apologized to Gaby, who simply shrugged and snatched a glass of champagne off someone’s tray.

Jane felt bad (especially since she was pretty sure that it was another guest’s partially consumed champagne Gaby had just taken from a busboy, not a waiter). Jane wished that Dana and Trevor wouldn’t treat her as the star of L.A. Candy, since the show was supposed to be about the everyday lives of all four girls, equally. In the beginning, Dana had explained to Jane that viewers seemed to relate to her the most. But why? Okay, so maybe Scar intimidated people by being so beautiful (without even trying) and rocket-scientist smart. And maybe Madison used way too much makeup and hair bleach for the average viewer. What about Gaby, though? Why wasn’t she relatable? She was nice, funny, cute, and had a cool job at a PR firm called Ruby Slipper.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you guys!” Gaby said suddenly. She handed her empty champagne glass to a random party guest, who glared at her, and fished through her black beaded clutch. “Here,” she said, holding out a business card. “This woman came up to me before. She said she’s a publicist, and she wants to talk about repping me.”

Scarlett took the card from Gaby, and she and Jane studied it. It read, ANNABELLE WEISS, followed by an address on La Cienega Boulevard and some other contact info.

“She sounds—” Jane began.

“Sketchy,” Scarlett finished.

Jane made a face. “Scar! I was about to say great. I love, love, love my publicist! Gaby, you should have one, too. So should you, Scar.”

“Why, so I can get into more trashy tabloids, talking about my cayenne-pepper-and-celery-juice diet?” Scarlett said.

“You mean your Chinese-takeout-and-pizza diet?” Jane teased her. “Seriously, Sam totally turned my image around after … you know …” She hesitated, not wanting to say the words “Gossip scandal” out loud. The subject still pained her. “She got a lot of really good articles about me in the magazines,” she went on. “And she, uh, talked to all the reporters about me and Jesse so I didn’t have to.” Actually, she didn’t feel much like saying the word “Jesse” out loud, either.

“You mean when he started getting wasted all the time and hooking up with other girls?” Gaby said. Gaby was like that—no filter. She wasn’t trying to be mean; she just blurted out whatever she was thinking, without thinking.

Scarlett ignored Gaby’s comment and motioned to Jane, indicating that she look behind her. Caleb! Her high school boyfriend had made it to the party.

“Come on, Garcia. Let’s go check out the hors d’oeuvres,” Scarlett said, shrugging and smiling at Jane as she led Gaby toward one of the catering tables.

“Janie!”

Jane found herself face-to-face with Caleb. She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, not since she found out that he’d recently moved to L.A. He was as gorgeous as ever, especially in his dark red button-down shirt and jeans.

“Caleb! I’m glad you could come! Is Naveen here?” Jane had also invited Naveen Singh, another high school classmate and Caleb’s best friend.

“Naveen had to go to Boston for some family thing,” Caleb said with a smile. “God, it’s great to see you!”

Caleb started to give her a hug. Jane glanced around quickly, making sure they were alone. She didn’t need photographers catching her having a mini-reunion with her ex. Or worse, Trevor or one of the other producers, who would surely seize on Caleb as a potential TV “love interest” for Jane. She and Caleb had split up almost a year ago, and in any case, she was taking a break from boys. She didn’t need the drama after what she’d been through recently.

Since no one seemed to be paying attention, Jane let Caleb scoop her up in his arms, which felt unexpectedly warm and familiar. And strong—probably because he used to be on the swim team, and wasn’t he working in construction these days?

“You look amazing in that dress,” he whispered in her ear.

Jane blushed. “Thanks. I—”

Someone’s cell began buzzing. It took Jane a second to realize that it was hers. She wriggled out of Caleb’s embrace and peeked at the screen. BRADEN CALLING. Ohmi-god, Braden? Why was he calling her? He’d emailed her a couple of times after her breakup with Jesse, to check in on her, but that had been it.

She and Braden had always been friends, and at the same time way more than friends, although the timing had never worked out for them to actually date. But why was her heart racing so fast at the thought of hearing his voice?

“I, uh, have to get this,” Jane told Caleb. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“No worries. I can just hang out here and wait,” Caleb said.

Jane turned her back to him and hit Talk. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jane. It’s Braden.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“Well, I’m sitting here flipping through channels and seeing your face. They’re showing these commercials for your party tonight.”

“You mean the ‘teasers’?”

“Yeah, those. Sorry I couldn’t make it, by the way. I just wanted to call and, you know, wish you luck. Not that you need it. You look great, Jane. I mean it.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet. Thanks!”

Jane had invited Braden as a courtesy, knowing he would never come. He hated the Hollywood scene and didn’t want anything to do with L.A. Candy, refusing to sign a release to be on the show. Mostly, it was because being an aspiring actor and being on reality TV didn’t mix. Jane also suspected that he wanted to stay out of the media spotlight as much as possible after the Gossip nightmare.

“Is that your mom?” Caleb asked Jane. “If it is, tell her I said hi!”

Jane glanced up, startled. She hadn’t realized that Caleb was still standing there. Was this his immature way of trying to find out if it was a guy?

“Who was that?” Braden asked her.

“What? Oh, um, that’s Caleb,” Jane replied.

“Caleb? Who’s Caleb?”

Awkward. “He’s … um … an old friend.”

“Hey! Who are you calling an old ‘friend’?” Caleb teased her. “That one of your new boyfriends, Janie?”

“No!”

“No, what?” Braden said, sounding puzzled.

“I was just telling Caleb that you’re not one of my—oh, never mind.” Jane shook her head, silently praying for someone to come rescue her. This was insane, having a three-way conversation (sort of) with her old boyfriend (whom she used to be madly in love with) and her good friend (slash guy she had intense, complicated feelings about).

At that very moment, Jane spotted Alli coming down the tiki-torch-lit path, speaking into a walkie-talkie. “Sorry, Braden, but I’ve gotta run. I’ll call you later, okay?” Jane told him. “Alli!” she cried out, rushing over to her and giving her a quick hug. “I’m soooo glad to see you!”

Alli looked totally confused. “You are?”

“I am! You need me for something now, right?”

“Uh, right. I’m supposed to take you and the other girls over to the terrace for the opening segment, and—”

“Great! I’m ready!”

“So who’s Braden?” Caleb said, once again standing right behind her. “Is that that guy I read about in the magazines? Didn’t you and he—”

“I’ve gotta run, Caleb. I’ll see you later, okay?” Jane said. Then, before he could say another word, she turned to make her escape, trying not to trip on her black stiletto heels as she followed Alli down the path.

But what was she escaping, exactly? Two guys whom she used to like? Who used to like her? Who maybe still liked her, by the way they were acting? Or did guys always act like this, all possessive and territorial and she’s-mine-I-saw-her-first?

It was a very good thing she was not dating these days.

2 BEST FRIENDS

“Yeah, so Jane and I used to be best friends. It’s really sad,” Madison Parker explained to the umpteenth reporter.

Madison dabbed at her eyes for good effect, being careful not to mar her five-hundred-dollar makeup job. She’d tried out a new stylist for the season premiere party tonight—some of the biggest names in Hollywood used him—and he hadn’t disappointed. On the other side of the pool, which was filled with fragrant white gardenias and floating candles, a group of girls held up a sign that said, WE LOVE YOU MADYSON!!!!!!! in hot pink. Learn to spell, morons, she thought, annoyed.

The reporter from Gossip magazine—Tiffani?— nodded and scribbled in her tiny notebook. “So why do you think Jane moved out? And are we going to see that on tonight’s episode?”

“Shhh, that’s not till next week,” Madison stage–whispered, pretending to be letting Tiffani in on the biggest secret ever, even though she had told the same thing to five other reporters earlier. “I’ll tell you why Jane moved out. Everyone knows that she hooked up with her boyfriend Jesse’s best friend, Braden, back in December, and that Jesse found out, right? Well, Jane got this insane idea that I told Jesse about it.”

Tiffani looked puzzled. “But didn’t Jesse find out from our magazine when the pictures—”

“All I know is, Jane blames me,” Madison cut in. “It’s crazy. I would never do anything like that to her. I loved her like a sister. I still do.”

Tiffani nodded and scribbled some more.

This is soooo easy, Madison thought.

Things hadn’t looked very good for Madison last month, when Jane got hold of some emails proving that Madison had leaked those photos to Gossip. Any other girl might have given up, under the circumstances. But not Madison. She not only refused to confess or apologize to Jane … she decided to go on the offensive, talking to every reporter who would listen about her way-more-interesting version of events.

Madison studied her new set of dark purple acrylic nails. The nails on her right hand spelled LOVE! with tiny rhinestones; the nails on her left spelled FAME! “And that’s not all Jane did,” she said to Tiffani. “Jesse forgave her for hooking up with Braden, and they got back together right after New Year’s, right? But Jane was still obsessed with Braden. She was hanging out with him and having secret meet-ups, and that’s why Jesse dumped her again. And now she’s not speaking to me, like it’s my fault she cheated on her boyfriend.”

Tiffani whistled. “Wow, this is great stuff.”

Madison smiled smugly. “I know.” She didn’t tell Tiffani that she’d left out a few important details, like the fact that Jane and Braden only had one “secret meet-up”—a very public lunch at Barney Greengrass—or that Jane told Jesse about it herself, the same night.

Tiffani glanced up from her notepad. “Anything else?”

“I think that’s all. You’ll be the first to know if something else comes up,” Madison lied. “Soooo. When’s this story going to run?”

“Veronica told me to tell you she’s clearing space for this week’s edition. And if there’s a follow-up story, one of us may be calling you for quotes.”

“Awesome.”

Veronica Bliss, the editor in chief of Gossip, was really coming through for Madison lately. (Madison had spotted Veronica at the party earlier, having an intense-looking convo with Trevor. She had also spotted Veronica’s former assistant Diego—the rat who had dug up the incriminating emails against Madison—chatting up a publicist, presumably to get dish for his annoying new blog, D-Lish.) Veronica and Madison had had a long-standing arrangement: dirt on Jane in exchange for flattering pieces about Madison in the magazine. Madison had made that deal with Veronica last fall because she wasn’t enjoying anywhere near the fame she deserved. Back then, all anyone could talk about was Jane, Jane, Jane. Puke! Madison had been forced to help things along a bit by making sure the world knew what a pathetic mess their perfect, all-American princess really was.

And it was working. Trevor had already talked to Madison about giving her more airtime this season, which must mean that he planned to give Jane less. Madison was all over the media, too. Not only Gossip but the other major tabloids were clamoring to interview her—about the show and her rift with Jane, sure, but also about her opinions on fashion, her love life (she was careful not to mention her current, very married boyfriend, Derek), and more. It was a huge change from a few months ago, when she could barely get editors and reporters to return her calls.

As Tiffani wrote down some final notes, Madison fluffed her long, platinum blond hair and gazed out at her adoring fans. She assumed they were her fans, anyway; after all, Jane was old news, Scarlett was a complete freak, and Gaby was … well, she was about as interesting as last year’s diet fad.

A tall girl wearing a sorry-looking boyfriend shirt over leggings came running up to her. “Oh, there you are!” she said, panting. “I’ve been looking all over for you. You need to get over to the terrace, like, ASAP.”

“Who are you?” Madison snapped. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“I’m Alli. From the show. We’re about to go live, and they need you and the other girls to do the opening segment.”

“Oh!”

Madison said a hasty good-bye to Tiffani and followed Alli in the direction of the terrace. She wished she could check herself in a mirror, although she knew they’d have stylists waiting to touch her up. Besides, what was she worried about? She looked amazing in her shimmering purple tank dress that hugged her perfect size-0 body. She felt amazing, too. Tonight was the start of a brand-new season: her season. She was on a roll, and nothing was going to stop her.

When her cell buzzed as she hurried to the terrace, she pulled it out quickly and checked the screen. It was a text from a private number.

Madison frowned. It couldn’t be from that person … could it? Biting back her anxiety, she clicked on the message.

WHY R U IGNORING MY TEXTS? I TOLD U I WOULD GIVE U 30 DAYS TO COME UP WITH THE MONEY. WELL YOUR 30 DAYS ARE UP SO NOW IM HERE TO COLLECT IN PERSON. BTW PURPLE ISNT YOUR COLOR.

Madison stopped in her tracks and gazed wildly around the crowd. Was the person here, tonight, watching her? How could that be? She scanned the sea of faces, but no one stood out. A Hollywood Now TV camera zoomed in on her, then swiveled away. A couple of girls took pictures of her with their cell phones, and another one yelled, “Ohmigod, will you autograph my shirt?” The girl’s red tee said TEAM MADISON across the front of it.

Normally, Madison would have stopped to chat up such a devoted fan. But the text had thrown her. She’d been getting these messages for months now. At first whoever sent them hinted at knowing “who Madison really was,” and then actually mailed Madison a school picture of herself from five years ago: when she was fifteen, and not so attractive, and not going by the name of Madison Parker.

“Madison? We kinda need to rush here,” Alli called out to her.

“Huh? Oh, right.” Madison took a Sharpie out of her silver clutch and scrawled her name quickly on the girl’s shirt. “Thanks for watching the show,” she said without taking her eyes off the crowd. But what was she looking for? She didn’t have a single clue about her blackmailer’s appearance, despite having hired a private detective to track the person down. Unfortunately, he had nothing yet.

“Ohmigod, she wrote on my shirt!” the girl screamed to her friends.

Madison tried to forget about the text as Alli led her to the terrace, where a couple of PopTV cameramen were setting up, and Dana and a director named Matt were barking orders at the sound and light guys. Half a dozen stylists were busily touching up Gaby, Scarlett, and … Jane. Ugh. As if Madison didn’t have enough to worry about right now. Jane, who looked almost fat in her ruffly black dress (well, maybe “fat” was an exaggeration), barely glanced her way. Whatever, bitch, Madison thought, narrowing her eyes. Still, it was getting ridiculous, their not talking to each other. She was going to have to do something about that.

“Madison, there you are.” Out of nowhere, Trevor Lord sauntered up to her, looking suave and sophisticated as always in a tailored black suit and white shirt, no tie. “Did Dana fill you in already?”

Madison shook her head. “About what?”

Trevor put a hand on her elbow. “We need you four girls to do the intro segment together, then maybe one or two more after that. We were originally going to have it be Jane and Scarlett on the terrace, then cut away to you and Gaby at the pool … but, well, change of plans.” He lowered his voice and added, “Sorry, they sprung this on me. Is it going to be okay with the two of you up there together?”

“I’m not going to be the problem,” Madison huffed.

“Good. I need you to behave, okay? Just read what’s on the teleprompter. Remember, this is live.”

“You know I always do whatever you say, Trevor.” Madison smiled sweetly at him.

Trevor smiled back. “Yes, I know. In fact, I have something I want to discuss with you. A new idea for this season. It’ll mean a lot more work for you, though.”

“More work? You mean, like my own story line?”

“Exactly.”

“Trevor, I love you!” Madison had to keep herself from throwing her arms around him and jumping up and down with joy. “So what is it? Am I going to have a new boyfriend or a new job or—”

“I’ll fill you in after this segment. Now go get miked. We’re live in five.”

Five minutes later, Madison found herself in front of the PopTV cameras, sandwiched between Jane and Gaby, with Scarlett on the other side of Jane. She blinked into the bright, hot glare of the lights and tried to focus on the task at hand—but it wasn’t easy. All she could think about was what Trevor had said to her. Her own story line! It was a dream come true.

Then everything began happening at once: Matt, the director, gave the five-second countdown … and the crowd began to cheer … and Jane turned away from the cameras and the teleprompter and toward Madison. “Hey, I think we’re on the air!” she recited, fake-smiling.

Madison fake-smiled back. Nauseating. “I think you’re right!”

Jane faced forward again. “Welcome to the L.A. Candy Season Two premiere party, everybody!” she said, stage-clapping. (Cue: more crowd cheers.)

“I thought it was Season Three,” Gaby said, squinting at the teleprompter. (Cue: crowd laughter.)

“Oh, Gaby!” Scarlett said, rolling her eyes. (Cue: more crowd laughter.)

God, who writes this stuff? Madison wondered drily. It’s soooo cheesy.

“We have lots of surprises lined up for you tonight,” Jane said.

Madison started to read her next line, then did a double-take at the teleprompter. Were they seriously asking her to say that? “Yeah, lots of surprises,” she recited. “Like what’s going to happen this season with me and my best friend Jane.” The teleprompter then instructed her to “bump lightly into Jane,” so she did. She could feel Jane’s body stiffen.

“You mean me and my best friend Jane,” Scar read, bumping into Jane from the other side.

“They sprung this on me,” my ass, Madison thought irritably.

“We have Aja here with us tonight to sing her brand-new hit single, ‘I Need You Now,’” Jane said, pretending to ignore both girls. Cheers, applause.

Gaby raised her hand. “I’m gonna sing, too!”

Madison, Jane, and Scarlett turned to Gaby. “You’re gonna sing?” Scarlett asked, pretending to be shocked.

“Yeah, I’m gonna channel my inner Aja,” Gaby said. But she misread the teleprompter, pronouncing the word “channel” like “Chanel,” the fashion designer. The crowd laughed, not on cue.

“Uh, Gaby … you mean channel?” Scarlett corrected her, improvising.

Jane fake-smiled again. “Stay tuned, because after the commercial break, we’ll be back to talk about—”

“Who hooks up with who in Season Two,” Madison finished, stage-winking.

“Really? Who do I hook up with?” Gaby said eagerly. Cheers, laughter, applause.

“And … cut.” Matt, the director, made a motion with his hands. “Great job, girls. Stand by for the next segment, okay? We’re moving over to the statue garden. You can touch up now if you’d like.”

The four girls dispersed into small clusters of stylists and clouds of hair spray. Madison scanned the crowd as one of the stylists applied powder to her face. She still felt uneasy thinking that someone might be watching her and having no idea who it was.

She noticed Trevor standing nearby, talking to Dana and pointing to something on a computer monitor. Madison caught his eye, and he sauntered over to her.

“Good work,” he complimented her.

Madison waved the stylist away and tucked her arm through Trevor’s. “Can we talk about my big story line now?” she said in a low, eager voice.

Trevor nodded and signaled for her to click off her microphone. “Walk with me, and I’ll fill you in. We’re looking to start shooting these new scenes the day after tomorrow….”

Madison put the blackmailer out of her mind—for now—and listened intently to Trevor’s pitch.

3 SECOND CHANCES … SECOND THOUGHTS

Scarlett kicked off her very uncomfortable, very expensive—not that she had to pay for them—strappy gold sandals and leaned back on the couch. The series premiere, which she’d TiVo’d because she’d missed the private PopTV screening earlier, flashed across her TV screen: the opening credits, with Jane at her event-planning job … then Madison shopping … Scarlett walking through the USC campus … Gaby at the gym … then all four girls dancing at a club, goofing around, and laughing. The producers had been forced to dig up some unused footage from early last season, when they could all stand to be in the same room together.

“I hate these shoes,” she complained to Liam Ferguson, her boyfriend (although she was still getting used to thinking of him that way, since she’d never really had a boyfriend before).

“Really? You look hot in them.” Liam leaned over to kiss her neck, nearly spilling a bowl of popcorn in the process.

Scarlett blushed. Liam was just about the only person in the world who could make her blush. “Thanks. Soooo. I missed you at the party tonight.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Liam said sincerely. “Was it fun?”

“I guess? They rented some insane house on Mulholland Drive for it. Mostly, it was a lot of talking to fans and posing for cameras and telling reporters the same things over and over again. ‘Are you and Jane going to make up?’ ‘You’ll have to watch and see!’ ‘Do you think Jane and Jesse will get back together?’ ‘You’ll have to watch and see!’ ‘Will you and Madison ever get along?’ ‘You’ll have to watch and see!’” Scarlett laughed. “So you didn’t miss a whole lot.”

Liam laughed, too. “Apparently not.”

They cuddled closer and lapsed into silence as the episode, called “Second Chances … Second Thoughts,” began. In the opening scene, Jane and Jesse were back together, but things were clearly tense between them as he griped about having to go to yet another one of her “events.” In the scene after that, at a spa, Madison and Gaby discussed Jane and Jesse’s relationship, with Madison remarking that even though they were back together, Jane was still hung up on “the guy she cheated on Jesse with.” Everyone who read a tabloid or had access to the internet knew that “the guy” was Braden James, although he couldn’t be named on the show since he refused to be on the show. Madison also informed Gaby that Jane unfairly blamed her, Madison, for Jesse finding out about “the guy” in the first place. Huh? That made no sense whatsoever. And when did this spa convo even take place? Gaby would have told Scarlett about it—wouldn’t she?

Of course, Scarlett knew there would be a disconnect between this episode and the girls’ “real lives.” A lot of the early Season 2 footage had been shot weeks or months ago, then edited by Trevor to create a narrative flow. The Season 1 finale, which aired in January, had ended with a teaser about whether Jane and Jesse would get back together or not. In the meantime, Jane and Jesse had already gotten back together, then broken up again. Jane hadn’t confirmed their split with the press because it hadn’t “happened” on Season 2 yet. Similarly, Jane had already moved out of Madison’s apartment and back in with Scarlett. Jane wasn’t allowed to talk about that to the press, either—not until the episode aired.

Not that any of this was a secret. Everyone in the world seemed to know what was going on in their lives already, thanks to paparazzi and tabloids.

Liam curled his hand around Scarlett’s, and she rested her head on his shoulder. On the screen, Jane was having an argument with Madison about Jane’s new dog, Tucker, and how he had chewed through another pair of Madison’s prized Manolos.

“Fascinating stuff,” Liam joked, reaching into the popcorn bowl. Tucker got up from his favorite spot on the living room floor and stared at Liam, sniffing hopefully, totally oblivious to the drama he was creating on TV. “No offense, but I’m kind of glad I’m not working on the show anymore.”

Scarlett punched him on the arm. “What? You don’t miss filming our riveting problems?”

“Nah. Here you go, Tuck,” Liam added, offering Tucker some popcorn. He wolfed it down.

Until recently, Liam was one of the camera guys on L.A. Candy. When he and Scarlett started dating, they knew it was against the PopTV rules, which stated unequivocally that the crew could not date the “talent.” Madison (who else?) discovered their relationship and outed them by tipping off someone at Gossip—and Trevor fired Liam as a result. Liam had been looking for a new job since then.

When the episode ended—with Scarlett telling some school friends about how much she missed Jane, and Jane confiding in Madison about her issues with Jesse—Scarlett got up from the couch and walked over to the fridge. She and Liam had the place to themselves, since Jane was at some new club with their friend Diego Neri. Scarlett scanned the contents: bottled water, a couple of sodas, a carton of sesame noodles, and yogurt. She grabbed the sodas and brought one back to Liam. “Drink?”

“Thanks. So are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Scarlett frowned.

“The Inferno premiere. My friend got us passes.”

Scarlett gasped. “Ohmigod, I’m sorry, I forgot about that. I think I have to cancel. We’re filming.”

Liam took a sip of his soda and set it down on the coffee table. “You’re always filming these days,” he complained, pulling her into his arms.

Scarlett leaned against him. “Sorry. I’m just … you know, trying to make an effort.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The truth was, Season 1 had been an abysmal experience for Scarlett. She had hated the invasion of privacy as well as the fact that Trevor had edited her personality down to a bland, boring nothing. In response, she had behaved as uncooperatively as possible: not obeying Dana’s “stage directions” … blowing off shoots … and in general being the very worst of her usual badass self.

After much soul-searching, and a frank conversation with Trevor, Scarlett had decided to sign on for Season 2. She had promised him that she would tone down the attitude. In return, he had promised her that he would be more careful with his editing. Her raise had been a factor, too. The money was good—no, great—and Scarlett was going to use it to pay for her own tuition at USC, which would help her become more independent from her super–annoying, super-controlling parents.

Besides, she saw the whole thing as a game, an intellectual challenge. Trevor wanted her to be Hollywood Scarlett? She would be Hollywood Scarlett. If they started giving out an Emmy for “Best Actress on a Reality TV Show,” she would totally be getting it this year.

Of course, her relationship with Liam continued to be a problem as far as PopTV was concerned. He couldn’t be on the show because he used to work on the show. Which meant that a huge part of Scarlett’s “reality” couldn’t appear on TV. It was complicated—to say the least—although in some ways, Scarlett was actually glad she couldn’t film with Liam. Filming was work, and she didn’t want to mix business with pleasure any more than she already had to.

“So how are your classes going?” Liam said, breaking into her thoughts.

Scarlett shrugged. “You know. The same. My French lit seminar’s okay, though. We just started a new book called Sentimental Education. Have you read it?”

“Yeah. Flaubert is one of my favorite writers. Have you read Madame Bovary?”

As Liam described studying Madame Bovary at UCLA—he’d graduated from there last spring—Scarlett’s mind wandered to a subject she should really be bringing up with him: her college transfer applications.

She had originally chosen to attend USC because she and Jane had dreamed of moving to L.A. together. (They’d taken the year off after high school graduation to travel and figure out what to do with their lives.) And now that she was here … well, her new life was great in so many ways, especially now that she was with Liam, and her friendship with Jane was stronger than ever. And she had committed to giving L.A. Candy a second chance, at least for the next few months until Season 2 wrapped.

Even so, she continued to be haunted by the feeling that she might be missing out on something. Most of her classes at USC were less than challenging, and she wished she didn’t feel like she was smarter than 99 percent of the student population. Had she “settled” for a college that wasn’t the right fit just to be with her best friend? And was she going to continue “settling” now that she had a boyfriend?

And so several weeks ago, she had sent applications to a dozen different colleges: Stanford, Berkeley, Columbia, NYU, Harvard, Princeton, Yale, Dartmouth, and others. Only the first two were in California, and they were many hours from L.A. by car. The rest were on the East Coast. She would know in the next few months whether she got in or not. And then she could make her decision about her sophomore year. It was good to keep her options open—right?

In the meantime, Scarlett hadn’t mentioned the applications to Liam, since they’d just started dating in January and things were going so well, or even to Jane, who had been through so much lately and needed her best friend around. She hated keeping a secret from them, but it couldn’t be helped. She would tell them sooner or later.

“Okay, you’re not listening to a word I’m saying.” Liam put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently.

Scarlett blinked. “Huh? I’m listening! You were saying something about Flaubert.”

“Not. I’ve moved on to something way more interesting. Your birthday.”

“My birthday?”

“Yeah, your birthday. April twenty-fourth. I know it’s still a month away, but keep that night free, okay? And the next day, too. Because I have major plans for you.”

Scarlett raised her eyebrows. “Like what kind of plans?”

“It’s a surprise. Trust me, you’ll like them.” Liam smiled lazily and trailed his fingers across her cheek.

Scarlett smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. He kissed her back, making her feel dizzy and tingly and deliriously happy at the same time. Liam was so sexy … and thoughtful … and smart … and sexy … and, basically, perfect in every way. It was so awesome, having a boyfriend. Why had she held out for so long?

The truth was, she’d never had a guy like Liam in her life before.

So why was she even thinking about moving three thousand miles away from him?

4 ARE YOU SERIOUS?

Jane speed-walked into the elevator and pressed 5, trying to juggle a latte, a box of Sprinkles cupcakes (it was Naomi the receptionist’s birthday), and her oversize, overflowing bag. “I’m soooo late. Fiona’s going to kill me,” she told Scarlett over the phone, which was precariously balanced between her right ear and shoulder.

“Just tell her you were having breakfast with Robert Pattinson. She’ll understand,” Scarlett joked.

“Funny. See you tonight? Or do you have a hot date with your hot boyfriend?”

“Nope. Tonight it’s just you, me, Tucker, and an everything pizza with extra cheese.”

“Sounds perfect. Ohhhh … my battery’s beeping at me, and I haven’t even checked my messages. Gotta go—bye!”

“Janie, charge your phone!”

“I know, I know. See you tonight!”

Jane dropped the phone into her bag just as the elevator doors slid open … to total chaos. The lobby of Fiona Chen Events had been overrun by PopTV equipment and crew—more than for a usual shoot.

“Jane, there you are!” Matt, the director, yanked off his headset and rushed up to her. “Let’s get you miked right away. We’ve got a busy, busy morning.”

“I thought we weren’t shooting until this afternoon. And why are there so many—”

“Change of plans. Didn’t Dana call you?”

Oops. Maybe Dana had left one of the many messages on Jane’s now-dead phone. “Um. What’s on the schedule?”

“First, we’re shooting a scene with you and Hannah, in your office. The second scene is you and, uh, Fiona, in Fiona’s office.” Matt looked away.

Jane frowned. Why did Matt suddenly seem so uncomfortable? “Is Fiona in a bad mood or something?” she asked him.

“Yeah, well, isn’t she always in a bad mood? I’ve got to go see about the lighting. I’ll be back for you in a sec.” Matt motioned for one of the sound guys to come over and mike her.

Great, Jane thought with a sigh. Fiona’s going to chew me out for being late … again … on camera. Can’t wait!

“Good morning, Jane.” Naomi peeked out from behind a massive bouquet of tulips on her desk. “I like your shoes!”

“Thanks. Oh, these are for you!” Jane gave her the box of cupcakes. “Happy birthday!”

“It’s so sweet of you to remember. Thank you!”

The sound guy, Jack, greeted Jane and handed her a mike pack. Jane set her stuff down on Naomi’s desk and chatted with her about birthday plans, while slipping the pack under her gray silk blouse, wrapping the wire around her torso, and handing the pack back to Jack. She barely noticed as he flipped on the switch and clipped the pack to the back strap of her bra. After six months of being on TV, it had become routine.

Matt reappeared in the lobby and waved to Jane. “Okay, we’re ready for you now.”

Jane said bye to Naomi (who wished her “good luck”— why “good luck”?) and joined Matt. As they headed down the hallway, they passed one of Fiona’s beautifully decorated conference rooms—and Jane spotted Trevor sitting at the end of the long glass table, talking on the phone and typing on his laptop. Several anxious-looking assistants hovered around him.

“What’s Trevor doing here?” Jane whispered to Matt.

“You know. Trevor likes to be hands-on. Fiona was nice enough to set up a temporary production space for him.” Matt stopped in front of the office Jane shared with Hannah. “Okay, here we are. Stay here for a sec and wait for my signal, then go on in and do your usual thing with Hannah. Good morning, what’s new, blah, blah, blah.”

“’Kay.”

Jane waited, wondering if her makeup looked okay (she had applied it in her car, while stopped at various red lights). Then Matt gave her the signal, and she walked through the doorway.

Hannah was at her desk, reading something on her computer monitor. When she saw Jane, she pushed back her long, honey blond hair and smiled, seemingly oblivious to the two camera guys who were shooting from opposite corners of the room. “Hi, Jane!”

“Hi, Hannah! Hey, are you feeling better?” Hannah had not only missed the season premiere party on Monday, but she hadn’t been at work yesterday, either.

“Much better, thanks.”

Jane set her stuff down on her desk, which was cluttered with piles of unopened mail, files, clippings—and the remains of her Pinkberry smoothie from the day before. Ew. Jane wasn’t always the neatest person, but she needed to get this desk under control ASAP. “Soooo,” she said to Hannah, tossing the smoothie and wondering distractedly where she had left her phone charger. “I’m, uh, supposed to meet with Fiona this morning. Are you sitting in on that meeting, too?”

Hannah’s brown eyes widened as she glanced at the cameras. “Um … no.” She glanced back at Jane. “Didn’t you get my message?”

“Message? What message?”

“I called you, like, half an hour ago, and—”

Isaac, one of the interns, appeared in the doorway. “Jane? Fiona’s ready for you now.”

“Uh … okay.” Jane stared at Hannah, wishing they could talk more. It seemed as though Hannah had wanted to tell her something off camera. If only Jane could text her, but her cell was dead, and she didn’t have time to sign in to her computer and get on IM. What was up? First Matt, then Naomi, then Hannah … everyone was acting so weird today.

Jane followed Isaac to Fiona’s office, wondering what, exactly, was in store for her. Maybe it was more than Fiona’s usual “we don’t tolerate lateness in this office” lectures. Maybe Jane was in serious trouble. But for what? She went through her mental checklist, making sure she hadn’t forgotten to do something important, like booking the DJ for an upcoming sweet sixteen party (for Leda Phillips’s daughter Clementine, who seemed to have inherited her mother’s alcoholism gene—better post extra security guards around the punch bowl and at the restrooms), or pinning down a venue for Miranda Vargas’s (fourth? fifth? sixth?) wedding. She hadn’t.

Matt was standing outside Fiona’s door, giving instructions to Jack and another sound guy. “Jane! Great. Cameras are already rolling, you can go right on in.”

“Okay.”

Inside Fiona’s office, there were three—not two—camera guys in place. Fiona herself was sitting at her desk, leafing through a file. Her sleek black hair and makeup were flawless, as always, thanks to the multiple stylists she always demanded before a shoot. “Jane, there you are. Please sit. How are you today?”

How are you today? Now Jane was really confused. Fiona Chen was pretty much the scariest, coldest boss in the history of bosses. Why was she making pleasant chitchat?

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Jane sat down.

“Good! Let’s get down to business, then. I have a new project I’d like to discuss with you. Aja has hired us to do her engagement party.”

“Aja?” Jane’s jaw dropped. So this was why today’s shoot was such a big deal.

“Yes. Aja. She wants it to be at one of the Las Vegas hotels. As you can imagine, this is a huge new account for us. Aja is an international pop star, and her fiancé, Miguel Velasquez, is one of the most popular rookies in Major League Baseball.”

Jane didn’t know a lot about sports, but she did know about the super-hot Miguel Velasquez. She used to have a huge crush on him, as did every other girl on the planet—and probably a few guys, too.

“I’m putting you in charge of this project. And I want you to meet your new coworker, who’ll be assisting, along with Hannah,” Fiona went on.

“My new coworker?”

“Yes. In fact, she’s here now. Why don’t you say hello?”

Jane heard the door open behind her. She turned around—and practically fell out of her chair as the familiar blonde in a black miniskirt, button-down blouse (with a few too many buttons undone), and sky-high stilettos sauntered in.

“What the—” Jane gasped.

Madison sat down next to Jane and slowly crossed her legs. “Hi, Jane! Isn’t this soooo awesome? We’re going to be working together!”

“No, no, no! There is no way in hell I’m working with her!”

Jane tried not to scream too loudly at Trevor as she paced back and forth across Trevor’s “temporary production space.” So this is why he was here today. She had suspected that something was up—but not this particular something, which was pretty much the worst something, ever. She rubbed her temples—she had a splitting headache—and she was this close to bursting into tears. Although she refused to give Trevor, or anyone eavesdropping outside the closed door, the satisfaction.

Trevor leaned back in his plush leather chair, his expression inscrutable. “It’s not going to be as bad as you think—” he began calmly.

“What? What are you talking about? You promised me, Trevor! You promised me I wouldn’t have to film any more scenes with her. And now you’re making me work with her, like, every single day? What the hell?”

“Look. I didn’t hire her. Fiona did.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Believe what you want, Jane.”

“Fine!” Jane stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath. She had no choice; Trevor was forcing her hand. “Then I quit!”

There. She had said it. It was the right thing to do—wasn’t it? So why were her hands shaking, and why did she feel like throwing up?

“Quit … what? The show? Do I need to remind you that you have a contract?”

“No, not the show. I’m quitting this job.”

Trevor folded his arms across his chest. “Jane. I’m sorry you’re upset. But Madison applied for an opening here and Fiona hired her. We had nothing to do with that, but of course we had to film it. If she had shown up for her first day of work and we had missed it, PopTV would have freaked.” He added, “I don’t blame you for wanting to quit your job. But look—if you do, it’s going to look bad to viewers. They’ll think you’re a spoiled brat who didn’t get her way.”

Jane started to say something not very PG to him, then clamped her mouth shut. She hated to admit it, but he was right. She knew the truth: Madison was a crazy, lying, manipulative bitch who would run over her own mother with a bus if it would make her rich and famous. But all those L.A. Candy fans out there didn’t know that, and if Jane left Fiona Chen Events, they would basically think that Madison had won. That Jane had skulked away in a huff.

Jane had worked hard to get this job. Unlike Madison, who obviously only wanted the airtime, Jane actually wanted to be an event planner and maybe even run her own firm someday. She was not about to let Madison push her out of the way now. She would just have to suck it up and beat Madison at her own game somehow.

On the other hand … Madison, every day? Mornings, afternoons, and evenings and weekends, too, working events? How was Jane going to survive that?

She sank down in one of the conference chairs and twisted a lock of hair around and around her index finger. “I need to discuss this with R.J. and Sam,” she said finally, referring to her agent and publicist.

“Of course. And if you really feel the need to quit—well, I’ll respect your choice.”

Jane glared at Trevor. “Respect” was about the last thing she was feeling from him at this moment.

Madison was waiting outside the conference room when Jane stormed out.

“Hey … Jane?” Madison plastered on a faux-concerned expression and placed her super-fake-looking fingernails on Jane’s arm. Jane had to resist the urge to flinch since there was a camera guy standing not six feet away.

“What?” Jane snapped, pretending to glance at her watch.

“Look. I know this is kinda awkward. But I’m willing to make this work if you are.”

Yeah, right. “Whatever. I’m late for a meeting,” Jane lied.

“Jane, you’ve got to stop blaming me for what happened between you and Jesse. I know you think I told Jesse you cheated on him, but I didn’t.”

“What?” Now Jane was totally confused. What was Madison talking about? Of course Madison was responsible for what happened between her and Jesse—or at least for telling Gossip and the entire world about Jane hooking up with Braden. Jane couldn’t believe Madison was pretending she hadn’t done anything wrong, when they both knew perfectly well what she did.

“We need to move on,” Madison said, squeezing Jane’s arm. “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow tonight? You want to go out for a drink? We could go to Bar Marmont. It’ll be like old times!”

“Old times? Like when I trusted you and you stabbed me in the back? Yeah, those were great times. Besides, I’m busy tomorrow tonight, and so are you. We have a CD launch at the Thompson Hotel at seven. You should know that, since you work here. Oh, except … I forgot. You’re only pretending to work here.” Jane fake-smiled at Madison. “Have a nice day shopping or getting a mani-pedi or whatever you’re planning on doing.”

Madison smiled back at her. Jane frowned. Why was she smiling? And then she remembered. The camera guy. Jane had just acted like a total shrew to Madison on camera. Which is probably exactly what Madison—and Trevor—had been angling for all along.

Crap!

“Ohmigod, I hate my life,” Jane moaned to Scarlett.

“Poor Janie. Here, have another slice.” Scarlett slapped another wedge of pizza onto Jane’s plate. Tucker put his paw on Scarlett’s knee and stared longingly at her—or rather, the pizza. “There’s only one solution. You’ve gotta quit.”

“I can’t quit, Scar. That’s what Madison wants.”

“Who cares what that psycho wants? You’ve got to think about you.”

“I am thinking about me. I was there first. I can’t let her push me out.”

Scarlett sighed and shook her head. Tonight, she was dressed in one of her usual outfits: distressed skinnies and a wrinkled plum T-shirt. She wore only mascara, and her long, wavy black hair was uncombed. How did she manage to look so gorgeous, anyway?

“You know there’s no way Madison just happened to get that job, right?” Scarlett said after a moment. “Trevor totally arranged it with Fiona.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Did he admit it?”

Jane gave her friend a scathing are you serious? look. The truth was, Trevor was more than capable of “arranging” all sorts of situations for the sake of ratings. For example, soon after the series premiere last fall, Hannah had joined Fiona Chen Events, and the show. She became one of Jane’s good friends and closest confidantes, even encouraging Jane to stay with Jesse when things got bad between them. Later, Hannah admitted tearfully to Jane that Trevor had gotten her the job with Fiona as part of a deal to be “Jane’s office mate” on the show—and that he had instructed her to give Jane pro-Jesse advice, to keep the two of them together, since their stormy relationship was wildly popular with viewers.

Jane had forgiven Hannah; she knew firsthand how persuasive Trevor could be. However, she had never confronted Trevor about this piece of underhandedness—mostly because she didn’t want to get Hannah in trouble. But now he was up to his same old tricks, with Madison. How much more could Jane take?

“Okay. So how are we going to get you through the next, uh, however long Madison lasts at her so-called job?” Scarlett said, swigging at a bottle of Corona. “Therapy? Meds? Or should we install a punching bag in your office?”

Jane giggled. It felt good to joke around with her best friend. “Maybe all of the above. Seriously, I’ve got to figure out how to keep my mouth shut when Madison tries to bait me into saying stuff. Like today? She said this thing to me on camera about how I had to stop blaming her for telling Jesse that I cheated on him. And then she stood there smiling at me like some creepy doll when I shot back at her. I can’t win. I freak out because I can’t be fake and pretend like she’s not a crazy person, and then I end up looking like the crazy person.”

“Wait, back up. Haven’t you watched the season premiere yet? The thing about you supposedly blaming her for supposedly telling Jesse that stuff? Which is crap? She said that to Gaby, too.”

“She did?” Jane had missed the PopTV screening of that episode, and she hadn’t gotten around to watching it on TiVo yet.

“Yeah. I think that’s how she … or, more likely, Trevor … decided to play this one out. I mean, he has to come up with some explanation about why you moved out of her apartment, right? Because he can’t air the actual explanation, which is that Madison sold those photos to Gossip and lied about it.”

“Huh.” Jane’s phone buzzed, interrupting them. She glanced at it and saw that it was a text from Caleb. “It’s just, uh, Caleb,” she said out loud.

“What does he want?” Scarlett said suspiciously.

Jane gave Scarlett a look. She knew Scar liked Caleb but didn’t completely trust him, not after he broke up with Jane last spring.

“Cuz I saw the way he was looking at you at the party Monday night,” Scarlett went on.

“I don’t know what you’re—oh, he says he wants you and me to meet up with him and Naveen this weekend,” Jane said, reading the text.

“Naveen?”

Scarlett and Naveen had hooked up in high school, and Jane had always suspected that Scar kind of liked him, even though she would never admit that.

“What do you think?” Jane asked her.

“I think Caleb wants to get back together with you,” Scarlett said.

“No, I meant, what do you think about meeting up with them?”

Scarlett shrugged and said nothing.

Jane picked up her pizza slice and took a bite, wondering why she felt so flustered. Was Scarlett right? Did Caleb want to get back together with her? He did kind of flirt with her at the season premiere party, and he acted jealous when she was on the phone with Braden. But she had no interest in getting back together with him, even if she was dating these days. Which she definitely wasn’t. Besides, their breakup had been really hard on her, and it had taken her forever to get over him. They were in the perfect place now, as friends.

“He’s new in town and he just wants to hang out, that’s all,” Jane said after a moment.

Now it was Scarlett’s turn to give Jane an are you serious? look.

5 THE OPPOSITE OF A NOBODY

Madison sipped her soy chai latte and stared out at the unfamiliar Ventura Boulevard streetscape from beneath her oversize shades. Across the way from her café table was a high-rise office building, a McDonald’s, and a car wash flanked by two tired-looking palm trees. Depressing. Of course, Madison had no interest in returning to this place—or to the Valley, for that matter—in the near future. This had simply seemed to be the safest spot for her to meet the private detective today, away from paparazzi, who tended not to travel to this particular neighborhood.

“Another latte?” Her waitress, a young, not very pretty girl, had materialized by her side.

“I’m good, thanks.” Madison glanced distractedly at her BlackBerry.

“Are you … you’re on TV, aren’t you? Are you an actress?”

Madison froze, wondering how to respond. She seriously didn’t want to be recognized—not today. “Yeah, I wish,” she said, forcing a laugh. “People tell me that all the time. I was on Idol once, though. During the audition part. I got cut after one round. Maybe you recognize me from that?”

“Ohmigod, I love that show!” the girl gushed.

“Yeah, me too. Sorry, I’ve got to get this,” Madison said, pretending to be taking a call. “Hello? Oh, hey!”

The girl left to wait on another customer, and Madison set her phone down on the table. Where was he, anyway? He was five minutes late, and she didn’t like to be kept waiting. She also didn’t like having to use lame stories to fake being a nobody.

Because she was the opposite of a nobody these days. Fans came up to her on the street begging for autographs. Her appointment book was jammed with magazine interviews and press shoots. Someone from the PopTV publicity department had contacted her just today, saying that the Maxim people wanted her for a possible cover. A cover!

And last but not least, Trevor had arranged for her to get her amazing new job at Fiona Chen Events. Not that Madison gave a damn about being an event planner—she totally didn’t—but she was beyond excited about her big story line, working side by side with Jane on celebrity events and generating major frenemy drama. The idea of truly being one of the stars of the show—if not the star—made her feel almost dizzy with pleasure.

Of course, Madison had no idea how to actually be an event planner. But she figured Fiona didn’t care, since the old woman was just accommodating Trevor, anyway. Although it was not like there wasn’t anything in it for Fiona: Madison’s presence was going to mean increased visibility for the company, bringing a touch of much-needed glamour and style to the place, unlike boring, frumpy Jane and that mousy Hannah girl. Fiona’s client base was about to go through the roof, thanks to Madison.

A noisy black CRV pulled up to the curb, interrupting her thoughts. The car was at least ten years old, and badly in need of a new muffler. A thirty-something guy dressed in jeans and a navy polo stepped out.

“What took you so long?” Madison snapped at him when he joined her at her table.

“Traffic. Sorry.”

“What do you have for me?”

The waitress began to approach the table with an eager, helpful expression on her face, but the man waved her away and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small manila envelope. He slid it across to Madison.

She hesitated only for a second before picking it up. She was finally going to learn the mystery blackmailer’s identity. Madison had hired the detective, Chris Reynolds, last month after the blackmailer gave her thirty days to come up with a quarter million dollars in exchange for keeping her past a secret. Chris had phoned her yesterday, telling her that he had tracked the person down and that he had a picture. Well, a mug shot, anyway. This was the moment of truth—and the beginning of the end of the dark cloud that had been hanging over Madison’s head. Nobody was going to take her fame or her (future) millions or her Maxim covers away from her—not after she had worked so hard to get them.

Madison ripped the envelope open with her thumbnail (one of the rhinestones on the letter F, for FAME!, came loose) and glanced at the picture inside. Shock rippled through her. “No way,” she said, staring at the picture. “No way!”

Chris leaned forward eagerly. “So you know who she is?”

“Oh, God. I don’t believe this,” Madison muttered to herself. “That bitch!”

“I take that as a yes, then.”

Madison’s head snapped up, and she focused her furious gaze on the detective. “Where’d you get this picture? Is she in L.A.?”

“The mug shot’s from a shoplifting arrest a couple weeks ago, in town, but they ended up letting her go. I won’t go into the details of how I managed to trace her email account. But bottom line, I also managed to trace a credit card, and as of yesterday, she was staying at one of the tourist hotels downtown. Unfortunately, it seems she checked out this morning. I’ve got an in with one of the front-desk clerks there, though. He thinks she’ll be in touch with him soon because she lost an earring and they’re looking for it in her old room.”

“Fine. Let me know as soon as you have a new address for her. I can take it from there.”

“Whatever you say. Do you have her real name? She’s been going under ‘Mildred Mains,’ but I’m assuming that’s an alias.”

“Mildred Mains? Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Sounds like someone’s grandma, right?”

“She is.”

Madison told him who the girl was. Chris raised his eyebrows in surprise and gave a low whistle.

6 HISTORY

“Did you understand a single word Professor Friedman was saying?” Chelsea Phibbs asked Scarlett.

Scarlett swung her backpack over her shoulder and turned to her friend, who was in her French novels lit seminar. Chelsea was smart and spoke almost as many foreign languages as Scarlett. Almost. “Yep. Today’s lecture was all about the meaninglessness of human existence. Cheerful stuff.”

“How did you even figure that out?”

Scarlett grinned. “Because I’m so brilliant?”

“Ha-ha.”

“Plus, I’ve read The Stranger twice before. It’s kind of a cool book. Weird, but cool.”

“I guess. I read The Myth of Sisyphus in high school. I think I liked that better. It wasn’t as confusing, anyway.”

The two girls were walking down a tree-lined path outside of the Taper Hall of the Humanities. It was Friday afternoon and especially warm and balmy for late March.

“I’m off to linguistics,” Chelsea said, glancing at her watch. “What class do you have next?”

“I’m done for the day, but I have to go downtown for this, uh, photo shoot for, uh, Life and Style.” Scarlett felt almost embarrassed saying this, especially to a bookworm like Chelsea who probably never read the tabloids.

“Ooh, photo shoot! You’re such a celebrity! Can I have your autograph? Please, please, please?” Chelsea giggled.

“Very funny. You know I have to do this, right? It’s part of my job.”

“Yeah, I know. Hey, it beats serving enchiladas.” Chelsea worked part-time at a Mexican restaurant near campus. “Soooo. What are you up to this weekend?”

“I’m having dinner with Liam and Jane and some friends from high school tonight. You want to come with us? It should be fun,” Scarlett said—although “fun” might not be the best way to describe hanging out with her boyfriend, her best friend, her best friend’s ex-boyfriend, and his best friend who Scarlett had hooked up with once several years ago, on Hendry’s Beach, just after someone’s going-away-to-college party. And maybe would have hooked up with again, if he hadn’t gone off to college himself.

“Sounds great, but I have to work till, like, midnight. Ugh. Maybe we can do something tomorrow? I’ll text you.”

“’Kay. Well, have a good time at work, señorita. Adiós!”

“Yeah. Have a good time posing for cleavage shots! Just kidding!” Chelsea added hastily when Scarlett pretended to throw her book bag at her.

Scarlett headed in the direction of her car, which was parked in one of the student lots. As she fished through her pockets for her keys, her cell rang.

Liam’s name came up on the screen. Scarlett flushed with pleasure. She hadn’t talked to him all day, and she missed hearing his voice.

She stopped on the sidewalk and pressed Talk. “Hey!”

“Hey! What’re you doing?”

“I just got out of class. What are you doing?”

“Oh, making a lot of calls.” He sounded a little stressed. “Listen. I’ve gotta bail on dinner. My friend put me in touch with this director who might have some camera work for me. He wants to meet and talk, like, tonight.”

“Ohmigod, that’s fantastic!”

“You sure? I’m sorry. It’s bad timing, but he’s a busy guy, so I didn’t want to say no.”

“No, I totally understand.”

“I miss you. Are you busy right now? Do you want to grab food or something? I’m near the Grove but I could meet you wherever.”

Scarlett sighed. “I wish. I’ve got this photo shoot downtown.”

“Oh, yeah, that. Okay, well, I’ll call you later?”

“’Kay.”

“Bye.” Liam had hung up before Scarlett could add I miss you, too.

Scarlett stared at the phone in her hand, wishing she could just cancel the photo shoot and meet Liam instead. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to dinner, either, now that Liam wouldn’t be there.

Because what was it going to be like with her, Jane, Caleb, and Naveen? Given their respective histories, it would almost seem like a double date, right? Soooo awkward.

Except that she already had a boyfriend. Who had no idea that she and Naveen had a history. Maybe she should have mentioned it to him just now?

Later, she told herself. It really wasn’t a big deal. For all she knew, Naveen had a girlfriend of his own and would be bringing her along.

“Janie! Scar!”

Scarlett wove her way through the crowded tables at STK, with Jane following close behind. Caleb was waving them over from a booth, looking like his usual hot self. (He knew it, too—the jerk.) Next to him, looking equally hot, was Naveen Singh, sans girlfriend or any sort of date whatsoever.

Naveen was wearing his wavy black hair shorter than Scarlett remembered. His white button-down shirt and khakis made him look older, more professional … not like the wild, disheveled surfer boy she remembered from high school.

There was a flurry of cheek kisses and hugs. Naveen’s hand lingered for a moment on Scarlett’s back when he hugged her. “Hey, it’s been ages,” he said. He smelled faintly of some spicy aftershave.

“Yeah, it has,” Scarlett agreed. Smiling, she gently maneuvered herself out of his embrace and scooted back into the white leather booth, far away from him. Then she tugged on Jane’s hand and pulled her down next to her.

“What are you doing, Scar?” Jane whispered.

“Sit!” Scarlett hissed, keeping her smile plastered on her face. Now the seating arrangement was perfect: Naveen and Caleb on one side, Scarlett and Jane on the other. No one could get in trouble that way.

Scarlett had no problem with Jane and Caleb being friends. But she was concerned about Jane getting sucked back into dating him again. Jane had fallen madly in love with Caleb when they were together in high school, only to have him dump her after his freshman year at Yale because, according to him, she “deserved better” (which was basically boy code for I want to be free to hook up with other girls). Scarlett spent many nights last spring consoling Jane when she couldn’t stop crying about him, trying to cheer her up with funny movies and countless pints of Ben & Jerry’s.

Besides, Jane was still recovering from her relationships with her completely dysfunctional ex, Jesse, and the perpetually unavailable Braden. She needed to keep her life simple for a little while.

“Soooo.” Caleb glanced expectantly at Scarlett, then Jane. “What did you girls do today?”

“School,” Scarlett said.

“Work,” Jane added. “What are you guys up to? Naveen, are you in school or working or what?”

“I’m a sophomore at UCLA,” Naveen said, taking a sip of his drink. “Premed.”

“Wow. Dr. Singh!” Jane said, sounding impressed.

“Yeah, my boy here is planning on becoming a plastic surgeon,” Caleb explained, slapping him on the back.

Scarlett stared at Naveen incredulously. “Seriously? You want to spend your life carving up people’s faces?” she asked him. Her father was a plastic surgeon, and she had nothing but contempt for a profession that made money from making women (and men) believe that surgically altering their appearance would bring them happiness.

“Actually, I want to specialize in reconstructive work for burn victims, accident victims,” Naveen explained. “Also babies who are born with cleft palates and other disfiguring birth defects. It’s kind of amazing what you can do for them nowadays. I mean, plastics is about more than double Ds and tummy tucks.”

“Oh.” Well, shut me up, Scarlett thought.

Naveen grinned at her, then turned to Jane. “Listen, thanks for the invite to the season premiere party. I’m sorry I had to miss it. Heard it was really cool.”

“No worries. Next time,” Jane promised.

A commotion at a nearby table caught Scarlett’s attention. She glanced up and saw half a dozen girls craning their necks to stare at her and Jane. They were whispering excitedly to one another—That’s Jane Roberts, right? And Scarlett Harp? Ohmigod!—and pulling cell phones out of their purses.

This ignited a chain reaction in the room, and suddenly, more people were staring and whispering and snapping pictures.

“Wow, that’s so weird,” Caleb said, peering around. “Does this always happen to you two when you go out?”

“Not always. It happens a lot, though,” Jane admitted.

“So what’s it like? Being famous, I mean. Is it fun? Crazy? Stressful?” Naveen asked.

“All of the above,” Scarlett replied.

Jane nodded in agreement. “It’s important not to take the whole Hollywood thing too seriously, though. Like, if either of us starts playing celebrity name-drop during dinner, just slap us, okay?”

“Except now we get to play celebrity name-drop. Like at the gym tomorrow. ‘Hey, losers, Naveen and I had dinner with Jane Roberts and Scarlett Harp last night,’” Caleb bantered.

“You wouldn’t!” Jane exclaimed.

Caleb reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t,” he said sincerely. “You know me, Janie. I’m your biggest fan, and I’ll always be your biggest fan. Not because you’re a star, but because you’re Janie Roberts from Santa Barbara who saves stray animals and likes to eat Cheerios out of an Elmo bowl.”

Jane blushed. Scarlett frowned. Did Caleb have to be so … cute?

The waitress came by and took their orders. After she left, Jane asked Caleb about his volunteer gig with Habitat Builders (he was on a leave of absence from Yale so he could “experience life”), and he told some stories about a house he was helping build for a family in need in Glendale. Naveen added some stories of his own: about his parents back in Santa Barbara, his part-time job at Mattel Children’s Hospital, and his classes at UCLA. Caleb and Naveen both made jokes about sharing Naveen’s pint-size apartment in Westwood.

Scarlett noticed that Jane’s eyes seemed especially bright as she gazed at Caleb and laughed at something he said. This was not good. Her BFF was sort of flirting with Caleb … and Caleb was definitely flirting with her. And flirtation could lead to … well, more.

Although, Scarlett had to admit that Caleb did appear to have changed, at least on the surface. He had an air about him: more grown-up, more together, more focused. Hmm. Could this be a new-and-improved Caleb Hunt?

What about Naveen? He seemed pretty grown-up, too, with his aspiration to help burn victims and children and all that. And he also seemed to be flirting—not with Jane but with Scarlett. He kept teasing her in a cute, funny way about being on TV (it was obvious that he, like Caleb, was not a fame chaser) … and making little paper airplanes out of cocktail napkins and flinging them at her … and looking at her with his intense, really nice (she had to admit), dark brown eyes and then looking away. Had he not heard her mention Liam’s name, like, fifty times during the course of their conversation?

“So, yeah, my boyfriend, Liam, went to UCLA, too,” Scarlett said, louder than was probably necessary. She pulled apart one of Naveen’s paper airplanes and smoothed it out on the table. “He majored in cinematography.”

“UCLA’s awesome for that,” Naveen said. “Does he work in the business?”

“He’s kind of between gigs right now,” Scarlett replied.

“Ohmigod, you guuuuysss!”

Scarlett looked up and saw Gaby walking up to their table, teetering slightly on her red satin heels. On her arm was some guy—late twenties?—with no hair on top, way too much hair everywhere else, and a saber-toothed tiger tatt on his right bicep. Not attractive.

“Hey, Gaby! What are you doing here?” Scarlett stood up and gave her a big hug.

“Saul and I—” Gaby began.

“Skull,” the guy corrected her.

“Skull and I had a drink at the bar, and now we’re heading over to Industry,” Gaby explained.

Jane gave Gaby a hug, too, and introduced Caleb and Naveen, whom she jokingly referred to as “Dr. Naveen.” Gaby eyed both boys appreciatively, then turned to Scarlett. “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t tell Liam about your date with Dr. Hottie,” she pretended to whisper, although everyone at the table heard.

Scarlett gaped at her. “Gaby!”

“Seriously. Your secret’s safe with me. We girls have to stick together, right? Come on, Scott!” Gaby said, tugging on Skull’s arm. “I think I need another Cosmo.”

“Whatever,” Skull said, sounding bored.

After they took off, Scarlett dug into her salad, concentrating hard on spearing each lettuce leaf precisely with her fork, trying not to let Naveen or anyone else see how embarrassed she felt. But Naveen was completely cool about the Gaby incident, leaning across the table with an amused smile and saying, “Don’t stress. It’s easy to misinterpret stuff when you’ve had as many Cosmos as she’s probably had.”

“Yeah, Gaby does like her Cosmos,” Jane piped up quickly.

Then Caleb brought up a funny anecdote about him and Jane and Scarlett cutting class to go to Hendry’s Beach and getting caught by the principal, who was also playing hookie there. (Scarlett tried to erase the image of Hendry’s Beach from her mind … and the image of her and Naveen making out on a blanket, near a bonfire, with a full moon overhead.) For the rest of the evening, Scarlett managed to relax and enjoy herself. And it really was no biggie, four old friends from high school, hanging out on a Friday night and having a meal and catching up. Besides, she planned on telling Liam every single detail about the evening as soon as she got home.

Well … maybe not every single detail.

7 NOT JUST A FRIEND

“So I got an email from Aja’s assistant this morning, and Aja really likes the idea of having her engagement party at the Venetian,” Jane said. “The question is, how do we use that space? We’re talking five hundred guests.”

Jane glanced at Hannah across the conference table, eager for her response since she was always full of great ideas, especially when it came to big celebrity events. Unfortunately, Madison—whose response Jane had zero interest in—opened her mouth instead, saying, “The Venetian? That place is lame. The Palms is way better.”

Jane gritted her teeth and forced herself to turn to Madison. Of course Madison would say this, because the Venetian had been Jane’s suggestion, and the Palms had been Madison’s—and because they were on camera. Trevor and Dana must be loving this, Jane thought, knowing that one or both of them were out in the hallway, listening in on their headsets. “Thanks for your input, Madison, but Aja definitely wants the Venetian,” she said firmly. “Soooo. What do you guys think?”

“I think we need to have a sit-down with Aja and persuade her to go with the Palms,” Madison persisted. “I’m friends with the events person there and I’m sure he’ll give us a fantastic deal.”

Hannah regarded Jane, her brown eyes full of worry. Jane shared Hannah’s unspoken sentiments—how were they going to keep this meeting from degrading into The Madison Show? Because lately, Madison seemed to have perfected the art of hogging the cameras, shamelessly baiting Jane with snide, bitchy comments, and in general focusing any and all attention on Madison Parker. She had been at Fiona Chen Events for only a week, and already she was dominating the shoots there with her provocative remarks, on-camera meltdowns, and, of course, her form-fitting, cleavage-baring outfits. Worse, Madison’s reign of terror was not limited to L.A. Candy. Jane had no idea how many more times she could stomach seeing Madison on The View and other shows, rehashing her teary-eyed, Oscar-worthy rendition of “I thought she was my friend and now she’s blaming me for everyone finding out that she slept with her boyfriend’s best friend. She’s the one who did something terrible, not me!” Jane knew that her publicist, Sam, was working hard on a media counterstrategy. Unfortunately, the press—and the public—couldn’t seem to get enough of Madison’s poison.

Madison opened her mouth to say something else—then hesitated when her cell vibrated on the conference table. “Sorry, I’ve gotta take this,” she mumbled, scooting out of her chair. As she rushed out of the conference room, Jane noticed her reaching down her dress, presumably to turn her microphone off. What was that about?

Then Jane’s own cell vibrated. It was a text from Dana:

CAN U AND HANNAH PLZ DISCUSS MADISON’S IDEAS?

Great. This was Dana’s code for Can you and Hannah please say mean, nasty things about Madison while she’s out of the room? Not that Jane didn’t want to. But there was no way she was going to play into Dana’s (and Trevor’s and Madison’s) hands on this. She really was going to have to talk to Trevor about Madison—soon.

“I was thinking that maybe we should do a Caribbean theme,” Jane said brightly to Hannah. “You know, because Aja grew up in Martinique?”

Hannah nodded enthusiastically. “I love it! Maybe we could do something with—”

There was a knock, and the door opened. A young guy walked in. Jane’s eyes widened. A young, really cute guy. “Um, excuse me. Sorry to interrupt. Fiona asked me to bring these over,” he said, setting some files on the table.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.