Sugar and Spice (18 page)

Chapter 31
Survivor

Madison took a sip of her martini and glanced around St. Mark’s Square, wondering what had possessed Jane to suggest a Venetian masked ball. All the people in their feathery black masks were so lame, and the long, flouncy gowns made the girls at the party look old. Madison, on the other hand, had taken care to select the perfect dress for the occasion: a black Prada strapless with an asymmetrical hemline that was at once edgy, stylish, and sexy.

Actually, Madison was supposed to be “on duty” tonight, whatever that meant. But she had no interest; she
attended
parties, she wasn’t the help. She hated her event-planning “job” and even pretending to work there for the cameras was getting old. Besides, there was no way she was going to run around the Venetian in a uniform like Jane and Hannah. No wonder Jane’s BF had disappeared, and Intern Boy seemed so moody, with their girlfriends looking so frumpy. Madison had half a mind to move in on one or both guys. But what would be the point? She could do better.

Madison’s gaze drifted to Aja and Miguel Velasquez slow-dancing out on the floor. Now
there
was a boyfriend worth stealing: a super-hot, super-rich, super-famous baseball player. Her mind reeled with the media possibilities, not to mention the lifestyle upgrades.

“Maddy! There you are!”

Madison turned, sighing. Sophie was staggering toward her, holding a drink with one hand and clinging to Jesse with the other.
Great.
Sophie was halfway to wasted—or possibly already there—and the party had barely begun.

Madison casually switched off her mike and pretended to kiss her sister on the cheek in case anyone was watching. In fact, wasn’t that Veronica Bliss talking to the Marley twins? And Veronica’s hideous ex-assistant-turned-blogger Diego at the bar?

“For the hundredth time, it’s
Madison
, not
Maddy
,” she hissed in Sophie’s ear. “God, you reek. What is that, pot?”

“You are so old, Maddy!” Sophie whined. “Isn’t she old, baby?” She stood on her tiptoes and nibbled on Jesse’s neck, looking a little unstable on her five-inch platforms.

Madison caught her by the elbow and steadied her on her feet. She had seen Sophie trashed before, but not quite this bad.

“You wanna hit, Madison?” Jesse whispered, reaching into his breast pocket. “It’s good stuff.”

“No!” Madison clenched her fists, trying to keep her voice down. This situation was getting out of control. Aside from the fact that there was press nearby, weren’t Sophie and Jesse both miked? It was hard to tell, since Sophie’s clingy black halter dress didn’t have any telltale bumps underneath, and Jesse was in a tux. Maybe Dana hadn’t caught up to them yet?

Madison knew that she had to do something, fast. “Listen, Jesse—can you get us a couple more drinks?” she said sweetly.

Jesse smirked. “Sure, anything for my girls. Be right back.”

He lurched toward the bar, bumping into a couple of guests along the way and receiving nasty looks in return. As soon as he was out of earshot, Madison whirled on Sophie. “We’re going upstairs.”

“Why? I just got here.”

“Yeah, well . . . party’s over. You’re going straight to bed, and we’ll talk about this in the morning.” Madison put her hand on Sophie’s arm and started to steer her toward the exit.

Sophie jerked her arm away. “
What are you doing?
” she screamed. Then she tossed her champagne glass to the ground, shattering it.

The crowd around them stopped talking. Madison froze.

Sophie glared at Madison with glazed, bloodshot eyes. “Who do you think you are, my mother?” she spat out.

“No, Sophie—
Sophia.
But you’re in no shape to—”

“Yeah, that’s right.
You are not my mother!
” Sophie said, raising her voice as if to make sure everyone could hear. “Cuz Mom lives in a trailer park back East, and you live in a fancy-ass penthouse in Hollywood. Oh, except, it’s not even your penthouse. It’s your
boyfriend’s
penthouse where he keeps you stashed away so his wife doesn’t find out. Because you’re a whore, Maddy.”

Madison felt the blood rushing from her face. Veronica Bliss and Diego and the others were watching and listening intently. Madison heard whispers all around her.

“Sophie, please,” Madison said quietly, her desperation rising. “You want money? I’ll give you money. I’ll give you whatever you want. But just shut up, okay? Or you’re gonna ruin everything for both of us.”

“God! I’m so sick of you ordering me around!” Sophie shouted. “I’m not your little kid sister anymore. I’m gonna be a
way
bigger star than you ever were. And I don’t need to pretend to be someone I’m not to get there. You’re so pathetic, faking that you’re some rich bitch named Madison Parker just so people will like you. Tell them, Maddy! Tell them your real name . . . Madelyn Wardell!”

There were gasps, then more whispers, then a low, steady rumble of excited chatter all around them. Madison stood there numb with shock, her gaze unfocused, her heart hammering in her chest. She was vaguely aware of a flashbulb popping, and someone calling out her name, and then Sophie muttering, “Shit!” as she grabbed on to a chair and fell.

Good,
Madison thought, glancing at her sister passed out on the floor.
Maybe the little bitch is dead.

Although it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

Madison’s life was over.

Madison leaned against the wall and peered around the dark, enclosed space, wondering where she was—an empty closet? An unused coat-check room? She could hear the muffled sounds of the party in the distance—the DJ was playing Jay-Z—and the rise and fall of conversation and laughter as people passed by in the hall outside.

She had slipped in here on her way upstairs to escape a couple of reporters trying to chase her down for comments. She knew there would be many, many more of them, following her 24/7 and staking out her apartment, as soon as the news had had a chance to spread. In fact, she was already thinking about leaving the country for a while, like Jane did back in December after the
Gossip
story broke.

Except that Madison’s screwup was way worse than Jane’s. Jane had merely hooked up with her boyfriend’s best friend, and lots of girls did crazy stuff like that. Not too many girls faked their identities in order to become famous.

She slumped down to the floor and burst into tears.

“Hey . . . Madison?”

Madison’s head jerked up. Blinking in the darkness, she made out a silhouette in the doorway. Was it a reporter? No, it looked like . . . Jane.
WTF?

“If you’re here to gloat, I’m not interested,” Madison snapped, swiping at her eyes angrily.

Jane moved into the room and knelt down next to Madison. Madison saw that she was holding a glass of champagne.

“I saw you come in here,” Jane said, handing her the glass. “Thought you could use this.”

Madison stared at her in surprise. “You’re offering me a drink?”

“Yep.”

“But . . . why?”

Jane shrugged. “I don’t know. Because you had a really, really bad night?”

Madison frowned suspiciously. “You’re not miked, are you?”

“I turned it off. Don’t worry, Trevor didn’t send me in here. Anyway, that’s all. I’ve gotta get back to work now.” Jane rose to her feet.

“Wait! Jane!”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You’d better check your compact—you’ve got mascara all over your face, and one of your eyelashes is, like, falling off.”

Madison smiled weakly. “Great. My life is ruined, and I look like hell.”

“Your life isn’t ruined,” Jane told her. “You’re obviously a survivor, and you’ll figure it out. You do look like hell, though. And no, this doesn’t mean we’re gonna be friends again. But I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” With that, she turned and left.

Madison watched her old friend go. Then she tipped back the glass of champagne, polishing it off, and reached into her clutch for her compact.

Jane was right. Madison
was
a survivor. She would turn this nightmare into an opportunity, somehow. She had always managed to claw her way out of the abyss before. And she would find a way to do it again.

Chapter 32
How Awesome was That?

It was almost midnight when Scarlett arrived at Liam’s apartment, still wearing her sequined black gown and insanely high heels and dragging her rolling suitcase behind her. She had managed to get the last seat on the 9:35 out of Las Vegas, then caught a cab at LAX, miraculously avoiding paparazzi the whole way.

She knocked, praying he was home. Praying he was home
alone.
Praying he wouldn’t want to
be
alone any longer when he saw her there.

Scarlett was about to knock again when the door opened. Liam stood there, wearing only a pair of baby blue pajama bottoms. She tried not to stare. God, she had missed him. It took every ounce of willpower not to throw her arms around him and start kissing him right then and there.

“Scarlett?” He rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing here? And why are you dressed up?”

“I’m sorry, did I wake you? Cuz you usually don’t go to bed till later.”

“I’ve got an early shoot tomorrow. My friend Taylor needed an extra camera on a commercial. What’s up?”

“Can we talk?”

“Sure. Come on in.”

Scarlett followed Liam down the hall and into the living room. “It’s just you and me. Ry and Danny are out,” he said, sitting down on the couch. “You want something to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.” Scarlett sat down next to him and toyed with her bracelet. She tried to gauge how he felt about her being there; was he happy, relieved, angry, confused, or all of the above? It was hard to tell from his guarded expression.

“Okay, so the reason I’m dressed like this is because I just left Aja’s engagement party,” she began. “I left before it started, and I didn’t even clear it with Dana and Trevor.”

“You mean the Venetian hotel shoot? Seriously?”

Scarlett nodded. “I ran to my room and packed my stuff and took a cab to the airport.”

“Why the rush?”

“Because I wanted to tell you something.” Scarlett paused and gazed into his eyes. “I love you. And I’m so sorry about our fight.”

Liam’s expression softened. “I love you, too, Scarlett. I really, really love you. And I’m sorry, too.” He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her.

Scarlett leaned into the kiss. She was in love with Liam. And he was in love with her. How awesome was that?

But she had to tell him the rest of it. She broke away from the kiss and added, “There’s something else.”

“Hmm?” Liam caressed her hair.

“I’m leaving L.A.”

“Wait,
what
?”

“You know I’ve never been totally happy at USC, right?” Scarlett explained. “Well, I sent in a bunch of applications in March, to Yale and Columbia and Harvard and a lot of other schools. I wasn’t sure I wanted to transfer, but I wanted to keep my options open for this fall. Anyway . . . I got into all of them.”

“Seriously?”

Scarlett nodded. “Yeah. So I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I’ve finally made my decision. I want to leave the show. And I definitely want to transfer to one of these schools. I’m just not sure which one yet.”

“Wow.” Liam looked stunned.

“USC’s fine, but you have to understand . . . I never considered going anywhere else because I wanted to live in L.A. with Jane. But I realize now that I can’t plan my life around other people. Which is why I have to go.” Scarlett laced her fingers through his. “I hope you’re okay with this.”

Liam was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly.

“I’m totally okay with this,” he said finally. “No, not just okay. I’m really proud of you. You got into some of the best schools in the country. Congratulations!”

Scarlett beamed. “Thanks!”

“And listen, Scarlett . . . I’ll support whatever choice you make about school. If you decide to go to Yale or Columbia or wherever . . . well, we’ll make it work out.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Scarlett wrapped her arms around his neck, and they kissed some more. She had never believed in happy endings, but at that moment, she had one of her very own. She and Liam were in love. She was leaving
L.A. Candy.
And she was going to start a whole new chapter in her life. She wasn’t sure where or when or how—but it was definitely going to be amazing.

Chapter 33
Real Life

The PopTV offices were nearly deserted when Jane walked into the lobby on Monday night. The receptionist was putting on her jacket and packing up her bag, and a cleaning woman was vacuuming noisily in the corner.

“Hey, Maria. Is Trevor still here?” Jane asked the receptionist. She noticed that the flower arrangement on the front desk looked a little wilted.

Maria grinned. “Trevor’s
always
here. Go on back, I’ll let him know you’re coming.”

“Thanks.”

Jane went through the double doors and headed down the hall. She was surprised at how calm she felt, especially since she had tossed and turned all night, playing this encounter out in her mind over and over. Now, she wasn’t nervous at all. In fact, she was almost looking forward to it.

Did this mean she was doing the right thing?

Trevor was waiting in the doorway when Jane reached his office. “Jane. Good to see you. Come on in.”

“Thanks, Trevor.”

He sat down and indicated for her to do the same. “Have you eaten? There’s a new sushi place around the corner.”

“No, thanks. I’ve already got dinner plans. I just needed to tell you something.”

“Of course. What’s on your mind?”

Jane reached into her bag, pulled out the brown Smythson notebook, and set it down on Trevor’s desk. “I quit,” she said simply. “This will be my last season.”

“You’re not serious.” Trevor didn’t even glance down at the notebook.

“I’m totally serious.”

“Why?”

Jane pointed to the notebook. “This. I’m tired of being a character in your story. I’m tired of having you arrange my life into scenes. And Saturday night? Caleb and Gaby? That was pretty low.”

“I didn’t
force
your boyfriend to kiss another girl. I can’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do. I’m just there to record stuff as it happens.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself every day.”

Trevor frowned. “Look. I get it. I’d be pissed, too. But Caleb wasn’t good enough for you, anyway. This frees you up to find another boyfriend, a better boyfriend.”

“You mean, it frees me up so
you
can find me a boyfriend? Like you did for Hannah?”

“Jane, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Trevor. And I’m done.”

Trevor leaned back in his chair and stared out the window. The first wisps of pink and purple and yellow streaked the evening sky, and the lights of Los Angeles glittered like jewels. Jane knew he had a lot on his mind already, especially with the big revelation about Madison. “I have to admit, I didn’t see this one coming,” he said finally. “I knew you had some issues with the show. But quitting?”

“Yeah, well, every once in a while I do something that you didn’t write down in your little notebook,” Jane said drily.

“Funny. You know that Scarlett wants to leave, too?”

Jane nodded. Scarlett had told Jane her news last night, including the fact that she had decided to transfer to another college in the fall. Talk about mixed emotions; Jane couldn’t bear the idea of her best friend leaving L.A., but at the same time, she absolutely wanted Scar to follow her dreams.

“My decision has nothing to do with hers, though,” she explained to Trevor. “I have enough reasons of my own. I’ve been thinking about this for a while—ever since I found your notebook at Coco de Ville.”

“My notebook. God, I should burn the damned thing.”

“Yeah, you should. But you won’t.” Jane stood up to go.

Trevor stood up, too, and walked over to her. He put his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her eyes. “Jane, you’re at the top of your game,” he said, his voice full of fatherly concern. “You don’t want to quit now. Is it about the money? Because you know that the network will pay you more to stay. It’s a bit irregular mid-season, but I can pull some strings. I’ll talk to your agent.”

Jane met his gaze squarely. “No, it’s not about the money. R.J. already knows, and he supports my decision a hundred percent.” She added, “Don’t worry about the rest of the season. I’ll show up for all my shoots, as always, and I’ll fulfill my media obligations. After that, well . . .” She paused. “I’m going back to my real life.”

“Do you really want to go back to the way things were? Before I discovered you at Les Deux?”

“More than anything,” Jane said, meaning it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for my dinner date.”

Trevor regarded her, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “You’re going to change your mind. You know that, right?”

Jane shrugged. And said nothing. She knew Trevor would not give up easily. She also knew there was nothing he could say or do to make her change her mind.

Jane blinked into the morning light and glanced over at her nightstand, expecting to see her goldfish, Penny, demanding breakfast. But instead of her fishbowl, there was a stack of scripts, a Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf travel mug, and a framed, faded photo of a blond boy dressed in a SpongeBob T-shirt and holding a puppy.

Oh, right.
Jane rolled over and smiled at Braden, who was curled up on his side, fast asleep. The photo must be Braden at age nine or ten. So cute. She inched closer to him and snuggled against his back. His T-shirt had a warm, beachy smell that she had always associated with him.

She couldn’t believe she was here, now, in his bed. They had met for dinner last night at a hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant (to avoid paparazzi), after which Braden had suggested that they go back to his apartment for a Monopoly rematch, which had turned out to be code for something else, which had been just fine with Jane. As soon as they walked through his front door, they fell into each other’s arms and kissed. Their chemistry had been amazing—better than ever. Was it because they had come to realize their true feelings for each other during their time apart?

At dinner, Jane hadn’t said a word to Braden about Caleb (whose calls and texts she hadn’t returned—and had no plan to return). She hadn’t said a word about her conversation with Trevor, either. She was waiting for the perfect moment. Because among other things, quitting the show meant that she and Braden could finally try to have a real relationship. Away from the cameras, away from the spotlight, no more hiding in their apartments or meeting in dive bars and out-of-the-way restaurants. They could date openly, publicly, like a real couple.
Finally.

“Morning.” Braden stretched, then sat up against the pillows. His dirty blond hair was tousled, and his hazel-green eyes looked sleepy.

“Hey. How are you?”

“Tired. What time did we go to bed?”

“Two or three?”

“God. Sorry. When do you have to be at work?”

“Not till this afternoon. So I’m all yours this morning.”

“Cool.” Braden kissed Jane on the forehead, then rolled out of bed and headed into the hallway. She heard a door closing, then water running, then a door opening, then footsteps, then a coffee grinder buzzing loudly.
Guess that means we’re getting up,
Jane thought. She got to her feet, found her dress lying on the floor, and pulled it on over her camisole.

By the time she walked into the kitchen, Braden was pouring two mugs of coffee. “Do you take anything?” he asked her.

“Just some milk, if you have it.” Jane sat down at the small wooden table. “Soooo. I have some news.”

“Yeah? What’s going on?” Braden set the mugs down on the table and sat across from her. He picked up his BlackBerry and glanced at it briefly.

Jane took a deep breath and began playing with her hair. She tried to anticipate Braden’s reaction. Would he be happy? Of course he was going to be happy, right? Even though he had always been 100 percent supportive of her career, he had never held back on his negative opinions about
L.A. Candy
, reality TV, and the whole Hollywood scene. Not to mention the problems these things had caused for the two of them.

“I wanted to tell you last night, but . . . well . . . it’s kinda big.”

Braden grinned. “What? You’re killing me with the suspense.”

“Okay. So here it is. I quit the show.”

Braden stared at her. “You . . . quit the show?”

“Yep. I told Trevor last night. This is gonna be my last season.”

“Wow. What brought
that
on?”

Jane told him about Trevor’s notebook and the Caleb-Gaby incident in Las Vegas. “I’m sick of Trevor controlling me,” she finished. “I want my life back. I want to be able to do what I want . . . and date who I want.”

She paused and glanced at him expectantly.

Braden took a sip of his coffee and looked thoughtful. “Yeah, well, this is huge,” he said after a moment. “I’m really proud of you, Jane. That took a lot of guts.”

“Thanks!”

“Are you going to quit your other job, too? With, uh, Fiona Chen, right?”

“Right. I definitely want to keep working in event planning. I’m not sure about Fiona’s, though. PopTV’s pretty much taken over her offices.”

“That’s nuts.” Braden reached for his BlackBerry and started scrolling. “You know, my friend Amanda works at some fancy event-planning firm in New York. I could email her for you, see if they’re hiring?”

Jane blinked.

“Yeah, here she is. She works at Four Star Events. Ever heard of them?”

Jane began twisting a lock of her hair around her finger. Did Braden just tell her that he would try to help her find a new job . . . across the country? She had misheard him, right? But he kept on talking . . .

“Amanda Miller. Yeah, I think she really likes it there.”

Wait.
Had Braden suddenly lost interest in her because she had basically told him she was interested in
him
?

As Braden talked, Jane’s mind flashed back to the conversation she had with Scarlett on the ride home from the Playground party. Scar had asked her if Braden was the kind of guy who avoided relationships until he really and truly fell in love—or if he was the kind who avoided relationships altogether. Had Braden ever
been
in a relationship? Jane knew he’d been on-again off-again with Willow for three years, which should have been a warning sign. She also thought about the first time she and Braden hooked up, back in December. Braden had made the overture, not her, and she had been too vulnerable and mixed-up to resist. Should the fact that he came on to her while she was dating his best friend have been a warning sign, too? And what about his late-night phone call from Banff, after he’d heard that she was dating Caleb? Did Braden only want her when she was with another guy, or he was with another girl, or they were otherwise unable to be together? The answer seemed suddenly obvious.

Here she had been thinking that he might be the one. Not Jesse, not Caleb . . .
Braden.

God. She was such an idiot.

“Amanda’s really cool. I’m sure she’d be happy to talk to you,” Braden was saying.

Jane stood up and put her coffee mug in the sink. Then she went to the living room and picked up her shoes and her purse.

“Where are you going?” Braden said, trailing after her. “Are you hungry? We could grab some breakfast.”

Jane turned and gazed at Braden. “I’ve gotta go,” she said quietly. “Good-bye, Braden.”

Braden frowned. “Wait. What’s wrong? What did I do?”

Jane smiled sadly at him. “Nothing. Thanks for last night. But I don’t think we’re going to be doing that again.” She added, “Oh, and let me give you a heads-up. As soon as I walk out that door, you’re gonna decide you want me back. You might even tell yourself that you’re in love with me. But you’re not. You never will be.”

With that, she left.