Sugar and Spice (4 page)

“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.

Chapter 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.

Chapter 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.