Jane Austen Goes to Hollywood (26 page)

“Hallie?” Grace approached her, wide-eyed. “What happened? Are you OK?”

Hallie spun around, turning her back on the club, and the crowd, and her terrible humiliation. “It’s over,” she told Grace bluntly. “It couldn’t be more over. Let’s go home.”

He changed his mind.

That was the thought Hallie wrestled with the entire trip back home, fighting to keep her blazing new anger contained through airport security lines and the bright, cheerful sound of holiday carols at every turn.
He’d changed his mind.

She sat, fuming in the dim silence of the first-class cabin. All around her, people were dozing, or staring glassy-eyed at their seat-back screens, but Hallie felt like yelling at the top of her lungs. How
could
he? She didn’t think it was possible; it shouldn’t be allowed! To make promises one day, then turn around and be with someone else . . . ? Of all the reasons Hallie had imagined to explain Dakota’s silence, this had never even figured. And why would it? She had meant it, every time she said she loved him. She had believed with all her heart and soul that they were made for each other, that the future they planned would actually come to be.

And he’d believed it too! Even in her fury, Hallie couldn’t bring herself to think he’d lied; that the words murmured softly to her late in the night were all false. An act. No, Dakota had loved her, which made it even worse. Because if mankind was really so fickle — acting as if love could be stumbled out of, as easily as fallen into — then her whole philosophy on life was a joke. Dakota hadn’t just broken her heart, he’d shaken Hallie’s very faith in love itself!

By the time they touched down at LAX, her rage had hardened into an almost Zen-like calm. If it was Zen to craft a voodoo doll of your ex-boyfriend out of plastic straws and a cashmere sleep mask, that is. Hallie was happily twisting its malformed limbs by the baggage carousel when her cell rang.

“Is it true?” Ana Lucia demanded. “We all said it couldn’t be, but my stylist swore his cousin did makeup for her at the premiere and they were, like, all over each other!” There was a hushed whisper in the background.

“I’m talking to her,” Ana Lucia said, voice muffled. “Shut up! So?” Her voice got louder. “What the hell is going on?”

Hallie took a few steps away from Amber and Grace, hoisting Amber’s parade of excess baggage onto the carts. “It’s true,” she admitted quietly, the words burning her from the inside out. “I found them together, in New York.”

Ana Lucia gasped. “She walked in on them!” she told her audience. “Totally caught in the act!”

“No, not like that,” Hallie hurried to explain, before the story was all over Hollywood. “Ana Lucia? Hello?”

Another rustle, and then Ana Lucia was back on the line. “So, I don’t get it. Was he cheating, or did you break up?”

“It’s . . . complicated,” Hallie answered slowly. There was a call from across the concourse: Grace waved her over to where they were waiting with a driver. “Listen, I have to go, but I really need to get out. What are you guys doing tonight?”

“We were heading to Soho House,” Ana Lucia replied. “But, are you sure you’re up to it? Maybe you should just chill. You know, alone time.”

“I’m fine,” Hallie insisted. “Really. See you guys there.”

Hallie hung up, determined. That was it: she needed to go out, and have a fabulous time, like nothing was wrong. Show Dakota and all her friends that she couldn’t care less about him and his tabloid bimbo. She was fine — better! — without him.

Hallie hurried out front of the terminal and bundled into the waiting car. “Hey, Amber, you remember you offered to loan me that dress one time. The black one with the —”

“— asymmetrical neckline and amazing diamanté shoes?” Amber finished. “Why? Are you hitting the town?”

Hallie nodded. “Just hanging out with some friends, but I want to look . . . spectacular.”

Amber winked. “Say no more. I’ll get my stylist over ASAP, and we’ll have you looking like a supermodel in no time.” She pulled out her cell phone. “Philippe, sweetie, I need you!”

Hallie felt a strange wave of affection. Amber may act like Miss Gold Digger nineteen fifty-two sometimes, but at least she cared.

Unlike some people.

The brief pause for goodwill passed; Hallie’s anger returned with a vengeance. She would show him. She would show them all. Hallie Weston didn’t mope around, heartbroken — at least, not this time. She would rise, triumphant. She would win this goddamn breakup, and she would do it all in four-inch designer heels!

But it turned out not to be so simple. From the moment Hallie stepped out of her cab that night, resplendent in Amber’s borrowed outfit, the only thing anyone wanted to talk about was . . . Dakota. New friends from Ana Lucia’s clique; random acquaintances she’d met at a Take Fountain show three months ago — it felt like everyone Hallie had ever met in Hollywood was lining up to demand the inside scoop on the breakup, and give her that knowing little smile, like they didn’t believe for a second she was really so happy to be rid of him.

“You guys were so perfect together!” a random blond girl Hallie didn’t even recognize cooed to her in the elevators.

“And to find out like that!” A cluster of tight-shirted men rolled their eyes knowingly by the bar. “Drinks on us, sweetie.”

“You need it,” another guy added, in that faux-sympathetic tone she’d come to know so well. “You poor, poor thing!”

“No, I’m fine!” Hallie’s cheeks already ached from forcing her ‘I’m so much better off without him’ smile. She winked at them. “But if you insist, make mine a margarita!”

At least that was a perk of being the latest object of Hollywood gossip: free drinks. By the time midnight rolled around, Hallie was on her third cocktail of the night, but even the hazy glow of alcohol couldn’t soothe the furious burn of righteous indignation in her chest, or shake the image of him emerging from the stage door, and how goddamn
happy
he looked, strutting around for all those cameras.

“He never wanted to be famous!” Hallie cried, collapsed on a crushed-velvet couch beside Meredith. She gestured wildly, almost spilling their latest round of sympathy margaritas. “He agreed with me, so many times. Celebrity is meaningless, his music is what matters!”

Meredith made a supportive noise, dabbing at the skirt of her lacy maxi dress.

“All that talk about artistic integrity, and now he’s nothing but a big freaking sellout.” Hallie laughed bitterly. “I mean, how desperate: faking a relationship with Talia just for the sake of some tabloid headlines.
Talia!
” she said again, voice scornful. “That girl couldn’t play a serious role to save her life. She’s showed her tits in, like, three different movies!”

“Shh!” Meredith hissed, looking over her shoulder. “You want to get us kicked out? That’s her best friend over there!”

Hallie shrugged, pulling herself to her feet. She wobbled a moment, unsteady in those borrowed heels. “I could take her. Bet she hasn’t eaten all week!”

Meredith checked the other girl again. “Just, try not to start any catfights on your way to the bathroom, OK?”

Hallie threw her arms out. “Anyone wants trouble, they can just try!”

She tottered across the lounge floor, glad to see heads turn her way. The girls’ favorite hangout wasn’t a lounge, or regular bar, but a private members’ club, set on the top two floors of a swanky building on Sunset Boulevard. You had to be signed in to even step foot in the elevator, and once upstairs, there was a luxurious spread of lounge rooms, restaurant, even a 24-hour gym — not that the girls had ever used it. They were too busy staking out prime couches in the lounge area to watch the various celebrity makeups and breakups that took place away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

Hallie slipped into the bathroom and found Ana Lucia and Brie propped up by the sink. “There you are!” Hallie cried happily. “You disappeared, forever ago. Where have you been?”

“Around.” Ana Lucia wiped her nose. “How are you holding up?”

“Fabulous,” Hallie declared. “But I swear, if another bobblehead blonde asks me how I’m doing, I’m going to snap her oversize head right off her tiny body.” She laughed loudly. “You guys excluded, of course.”

“Uh-huh.”

Hallie fumbled with her clutch to find her lipstick. “I’m serious, Dakota can go screw himself. Or that bitch. I don’t care!” She caught Ana Lucia exchanging a look with Brie. “I don’t!” Hallie insisted. “It’s so over. I mean, I deserve a guy who’s not going to sell me out for the sake of some stupid magazine covers.”

“Right,” Ana Lucia murmured. “You already said that. Like, five times.”

“Well, it’s true!” Hallie focused on reapplying her lipstick. “So, what do you think: you want to hang here some more? Or come back to my place? Ooh, slumber party!”

Ana Lucia shrugged vaguely. “I think we’re going to bail soon. Keisha is having some people over.”

“Who’s that?” Hallie frowned, trying to remember a face from the blur of new introductions.

“Just a friend of mine.”

Brie piped up. “She’s the girl from that new sitcom, you know, with the three party girls in the city who inherit the baby twins?”

Hallie lit up. “But that’s perfect! I need to get my head back in the acting game, now that I don’t have any distractions. Where does she live — up in the hills?”

There was a pause.

“It’s more of a private party,” Ana Lucia replied at last. “And you should probably be heading home. But take care of yourself, OK, doll?”

They were out the door of the bathroom before Hallie could even process the brush-off. She stopped, gloss wand halfway to her lips, as Ana Lucia’s dismissive tone sank in.

Wait, what
was
that?

Hallie hurried out of the bathroom after the girls. “Ana Lucia? Hey, hold up!” she called, catching up to them in the middle of the main lounge area. “What’s going on?”

Ana Lucia and Brie exchanged another look. “Like I said, it’s a private party,” Ana Lucia said with a shrug. “No offense.”

Meredith arrived with an armful of their jackets. “Ready to roll?” she asked Hallie, oblivious. Brie jabbed her in the ribs. Meredith looked around. “Huh? What did I miss?”

“I wish I knew.” Even through the margarita haze, Hallie was getting a very bad feeling — one that only got worse when Ana Lucia took a step closer, and gave Hallie a faux-awkward look, all rueful and apologetic.

“I didn’t want to say anything, but, well, the thing is, it’s getting kind of uncomfortable.” Ana Lucia blinked at her, the very model of regret. “You know,” she added, with another tiny grimace, “the way you act around my famous friends.”

Hallie gaped. “What? I don’t understand. How do I act?” She turned to the other girls for support, but Meredith just stood looking uncomfortable, while Brie tapped away delightedly at her cell phone.

“The way you bug them about their agents, and auditions,” Ana Lucia explained, with a smug smile. “It’s just, tacky. Especially when we’re all just hanging out.”

Hallie stared back, horrified. The way Ana Lucia was looking at her . . . she knew it way too well: it was the look Ana Lucia gave to wannabes, and hangers-on, and those poor souls with the misfortune of wearing last year’s wet-look leather leggings.

And now, for the first time, Hallie.

“But, you’re the one who introduced me to everyone!” Hallie protested. “You told me to talk to Rachel about audition reels, remember?” Hallie insisted. “And when we met Zoe, at that party over the summer, you’re the one who said I was trying to break in. They were happy to talk to me!”

“Well, sure, because they didn’t want to be rude.” Ana Lucia’s smile became more frozen — barely a smile at all. “I’m just saying, it’s been uncomfortable. For all of us. I know you’re an outsider, but, this isn’t how we do it here.” She shrugged, and turned on her heel to leave — as if Hallie were nothing more than an embarrassing inconvenience now, and not the girl who had been right beside her at every brunch and shopping trip for months; supplying them with backstage passes, and invites to all of Take Fountain’s private after-show parties.

Suddenly, Hallie’s anger bubbled up again.

“This is about Dakota, isn’t it?” she demanded furiously. “All along, you’ve been using me to get near Reed. But now that we’ve broken up, you’re done with me!”

Ana Lucia hardened. “Me? Using you?” She snorted. “Please. What do you have that I could possibly want?” She took a step closer to Hallie and glared, all pretense of friendship gone. “We let you tag along for long enough, but just because you lucked out in the right zip code, and have some rich relative taking pity on you, it doesn’t make you one of us!”

Brie finally looked up from her cell phone. “Your uncle isn’t even in features,” she added, like it was the ultimate put-down. “He does
TV.
”

She and Ana Lucia whirled on their spiked heels and stalked away. Meredith paused a moment, and gave Hallie a regretful look. “Sorry. She’s just . . .” Meredith sighed. “You know Reed slept with her, right before they all went to New York? And now he’s not returning her calls.”

“So she
was
just using me.” Hallie’s anger returned, only this time, she didn’t know whether to be mad at Ana Lucia, or herself — for not seeing the blatant exchange that had been holding up their entire friendship. She looked at Meredith, arms folded. “What about you? Are you done too?”