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Authors: Antonio Pagliarulo

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“Hey!” Lex snapped angrily. “Fashion design happens to be art!”

Madison chuckled, her bad mood not budging. “You can't compare sketching cocktail dresses to painting or sculpting the way fine artists do.”

Lex's jaw dropped. “The hell I can't! Look at your dress—you wouldn't call that art? Alexander would be horrified to hear you say that. And now that we're being brutally honest, let me tell you that I'd rather be at a Chanel show than at this society luncheon, sitting with a bunch of farting old geezers. Even a
resort
collection show.”

Madison's hand flew to her chest. “How dare you!” She had never heard anything so hurtful. “Those people happen to be responsible for building the greatest art collections in the world! They—”

“They wear dentures and can barely chew their boiled carrots,” Lex shot back. “We're lucky the vodka isn't being spiked with Metamucil. It's a retirement home party in that room. You
so
know I'm right.”

Madison clenched the ends of her purse, then gritted her teeth. She didn't have much of a rebuttal. The luncheon
did
resemble something of an upscale bingo game in Vegas. But that didn't minimize the very important mission of the society. It didn't minimize the brilliantly artistic atmosphere either. “What about Tallula Kayson?” she asked. “Aren't either of you the least bit curious to meet her? She's not old. She's only a few years older than us.”

“I can't wait to meet Tallula,” Park said evenly. “I loved the interview she did on MTV last month. She listens to Pink while she paints.”

“Does she?” Lex sounded impressed. Her tone was suddenly excited. “Good taste.”

“Tallula isn't going to be interested in talking about pop music,” Madison said stubbornly. “After we're introduced and receive our honorary society brooches, we're going to unveil her latest painting. That's going to be the topic of conversation, got it?”

Lex made a sour face at her sister. “You don't have to be so aggressive. Is acting like a wolf suddenly in vogue?”

“I'm not acting like a wolf,” Madison countered. “I just get
very
annoyed when the two of you go out of your way to embarrass me.”

Park held up her hand, and silence instantly descended over the bathroom. She kept her expression calm and soft as she looked at her sisters. “Both of you, cut it out. I can't stand this. It's stupid fighting, and that's not what we do. I mean, when's the last time we actually had a fight?”

Madison and Lex stared at the floor.

“Answer me,” Park said, gently but firmly.

“I can't remember the last time.” Madison's voice was low, her tone regretful. She raised her head and looked at Lex.

“Neither can I,” Lex agreed.

“That's exactly right,” Park said. “All of this negative energy is making me sick, and it happens to be bad for our makeup.” She trained her gaze on Madison and gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze. “Listen, honey…we know why you're a little wired up, but it's not
our
fault that you're upset with your boyfriend. Now, if you want to talk about it…”

Madison's eyes flashed with pain. She turned around and stared at herself in the mirror and made a pretense of inspecting her complexion. But it was impossible to hide the sadness on her face. Sadness, and a wee bit of anger. Her boyfriend, fellow celebutante Theo West, had left on Sunday for Antigua, where his father had just completed building a new hotel. Initially, Theo had wanted Madison to join him on the trip—a romantic few days under the sun, away from the chaos of Manhattan—but last week, Theo changed his tune completely and told Madison that he would be spending the entire time working alongside his father. There were financial plans to reexamine, last-minute construction details that probably needed attention, and a whole marketing campaign to review. The West family was banking on the new hotel to bring them out of a business slump.

That, at least, had been Theo's side of the story. Madison chose to believe him because believing anything else was just too painful. She didn't want to consider the possibility that Theo had reverted to his playboy ways, or that he was having a fling with his horse-faced ex-girlfriend, Annabelle Christensen. After a lifetime of being social rivals—the Hamiltons and the Wests did
not
get along—she and Theo had finally found a common ground on which to build a relationship. They talked. They went shopping together and spent up a storm in Bergdorf's. They took Sunday strolls through Central Park. Everything had been going perfectly.

Until now.

She hated being away from Theo. Even though it was already Wednesday and he was scheduled to return Saturday morning, Madison couldn't help feeling like a bride who'd been left at the altar. She missed Theo. She was confused by his actions. And if she had to admit it, she was a little suspicious too. All those emotions made for an edgy disposition. She felt a sudden prickle of guilt in her stomach. This was the first time in a very long time that she'd gotten so angry at Park and Lex. They never fought, and they had never been able to stand seeing one another upset.

Sighing, she turned around again and faced her sisters. “I'm sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn't mean to be a bitch, but it's just that I…well…”

“You miss Theo,” Park said matter-of-factly. “You shouldn't be ashamed of that.”

“But I
am
ashamed of it.” Madison frowned. “Not because it's wrong to miss him, but because I'm worried about what people might be thinking. And what they might be saying.”

“That's silly. It's nobody's business.” Park shrugged and gave Madison's shoulder another squeeze. Then she reached into her purse, pulled out her compact, and flipped it open. She began dotting at Madison's makeup. “There's a little too much moisture under your eyes,” she said. “If we don't fix that, your mascara will run and you'll look like you're headed for a heavy metal concert.”

“God, Park, now I'm going to have nightmares!” Lex exclaimed, quickly following suit. She squatted down and began smoothing her hands over Madison's dress, trying to flatten the wrinkles that had cut into the delicate fabric.

“I mean, I trust Theo,” Madison said, looking up as Park worked around her eyes. “I don't think he's doing anything bad, but it's just weird. Back in June, he asked me to go with him on this trip, and then all of a sudden he came up with excuses.” She stretched her arms out as Lex fussed with the top half of the dress.

“Well, if it's any consolation, we're glad you didn't go,” Park said. “And anyway, if you
had
gone, you wouldn't be able to be here today.”

Lex nodded. “It's totally dumb to be worrying about this. Theo's crazy about you. And if he
does
try to pull off anything stupid, I'll personally kick his ass.”

Madison didn't feel like delving into the roller-coaster state of her emotions, even if they did need some buffing. Why on earth would Theo cheat on her? She was, after all, one of the most famous and beautiful girls on the planet. It was flat-out silly to think Theo had suddenly fallen out of love with her. “Maybe you're both right,” she said. “I'm letting this get to me, and it's totally screwing up my brain. I'm just going to forget it.” She lifted her arms over her head. “Lex, did I tear the dress anywhere when I kicked in the door?”

Lex circled Madison, carefully inspecting the dress. “No, you're clear.” She gestured her head at the door and smirked. “But I think you did some damage to that lock.”

“Not a big deal,” Park said with a fluttery wave of her hand. She closed her compact, then stepped back to inspect Madison. “Beautiful. Your makeup is perfect.”

“Thanks,” Madison answered. She took a deep breath and smiled wearily.

Park was quick to identify the half-strong, half-sad look. She had seen it on Madison's face only a handful of times, but it was upsetting. Thankfully, however, there was a surefire cure. She reached under her shirt collar and pulled out the necklace hanging around her neck; at the end of the chain was a thick, stunning, glittering emerald. She unclasped the necklace and held it up so that the jewel caught the light and glittered like a disco ball.

Madison gasped and stared at the rock with glazing eyes. The angst she had been feeling vanished and was replaced by a surge of warm, buttery happiness. “Stunning,” she whispered. “Just…stunning.”

Park nodded. “From my private collection. I knew it would do the trick.” And it always did. She knew better than anyone that jewelry possessed otherworldly power: you couldn't set eyes on a rare rock without completely losing yourself.

“That'll chase away any girl's blues,” Lex commented.

“Tell me how much it's worth,” Madison said quietly, swooning. “How many carats?”

“Not so expensive—only seven hundred thousand,” Park replied. “But it's six carats.”

Madison gasped with pleasure.

“Go ahead, honey,” Park said. “Hold it. Feel the weight. Precious gems are our best friends.”

Madison took the emerald and cradled it in the palm of her right hand. She let the sparkles of light eclipse everything else. It was true: jewelry had a magical effect on the body and the mind. She ran her thumb over one smooth edge and literally shivered with pleasure. “I feel a million times better,” she said, handing the necklace back to Park.


Six
million times better,” Lex chimed in.

Madison took another deep breath, then squared her shoulders confidently. “I'm just going to think about that emerald for the rest of the afternoon. Come on. Let's head back out there.”

They walked single file out of the bathroom and down the long hallway. A photographer coming up the wide staircase offered them a courteous nod and raised his camera. Quick on cue, Madison froze. She waited for Park and Lex to assume their familiar positions beside her. They plastered smiles on their faces as the picture was snapped.

“Now, remember,” Madison whispered over her shoulder as they stepped into the Conrad Suite, “steer clear of Mayor Mayer—he's already drunk and you know how touchy-feely he gets when he's drunk.”

Park shrugged. “I can handle him. And from the way he looks right now, I don't think we're being called up to that podium anytime soon.”

“Totally right,” Lex agreed, noting that Mayor Mayer had just reached for another drink as he began chatting with an attractive female guest. “But I swear to God, if he even so much as squeezes my shoulder, I'll knee him right in his Picassos.”

Madison shook her head firmly. “It's bad enough that he's already drunk, and I don't want to create any kind of scene. So keep your knees to yourself, okay?”

Lex was about to nod, but then she caught a glimpse of the odd and scrawny Poppy van Lulu charging across the room toward them, waving both her arms.

“Oh, great,” Madison said under her breath. “Just what we need. A report from the ghost world.”

“That's not nice,” Park whispered. “Poppy has never said anything mean about us, and she happens to be a member of the society and a fellow lover of art.”

“She also happens to be three dresses short of a sample sale,” Madison said. “She can't be seen in public without causing a scene, and it's annoying. Remember two years ago at the Academy Awards? She told Johnny Depp he was a pirate in a previous life—and I think he believed her.”

“Let's not say anything bad about Johnny.” Lex's tone was fierce. “He's the only one who can wear pirate-inspired fashion outside of a movie set and still look damn hot.”

Madison nodded. “True, but I don't like it when men wear feathers in their hair.”

“Heads up,” Park whispered. “Here comes drama.”

Poppy van Lulu's eyes were wide, the look on her face customarily frantic. She put a hand on Park's shoulder and shook her head vigorously.

“Mrs. van Lulu,” Park said politely. “Are you okay?”

“No, I'm not,” Poppy replied dramatically. “I'm
certainly
not.”

Park kept a smile plastered on her face. “What's wrong?”

Poppy rested a hand on her forehead, then swayed to one side as if she were about to faint. “Girls, you
have
to listen to me,” she said weakly. “What I'm going to say might sound strange, but I'm very serious. You have to get out of here
now.

“What?” Madison snapped.

“Now!” Poppy cried. “I've just had a frightening premonition. We're all in danger. There isn't a moment to spare.
Something terrible is about to happen!

2

A Little Bit of Coco

T
he words were said with such urgency, such breathless desperation, Park actually felt a chill scale her spine. She gently touched Poppy van Lulu's hand. “Why would you say a thing like that?” she asked in her best soothing voice. “This is a very small event. There's nothing dangerous here.”

Poppy shook her head again. “Because it's true. And it's awful. I've just seen…”

Park waited patiently for a description.

“I've just seen…” Poppy put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes.

“Seen what?” Lex snapped. “A vinyl handbag? Where is it? Or worse—vinyl shoes? What did you see?”

“I think I've seen the shadow of death pass over this room,” Poppy stated quietly, seriously. “A dark cloak of peril.”

“A
what
?” Madison's voice was sharp and impatient.

“A dark cloak of peril,” Poppy repeated.

“Maybe it was a shawl,” Lex said offhandedly. “Purple is back in fashion, and with this lighting, a purple shawl could easily look like a dark cloak.”

“Or a cape,” Park added. “I think I saw one in Dior's last collection.”

“I happen to like capes.” Lex made a pretense of throwing one over her shoulders. “Easy to put on, and easy to take off.”

“No, you're not understanding me!” Poppy suddenly cried. Her voice drew several stares from around the room. “I know what I'm talking about. I've seen the shadow before, and I'm never wrong when I see it. We have to get out of here now.”

Park put both her hands on Poppy's shoulders. “Mrs. van Lulu, I think you just need to relax. Why don't you let me get you a drink?”

“No, Park. You aren't listening to me, and you
must
listen to me.” Poppy's eyes grew watery, and her lips tightened into a grimace. “The danger in this room is immense. Someone here is going to die!”

At that, Park and Lex both jumped back and looked at each other.

“That's enough!” Madison said through gritted teeth. She gave Poppy her coldest stare and then quickly led her just outside the room, Park and Lex in tow. “Now, you listen to me, Mrs. van Lulu. We're here for an important event, and no one is interested in hearing your psychic rants.”

“But—”

“There's no need to continue,” Madison interjected. “My sisters and I aren't listening to any nonsense, so I suggest you go back to your table and keep it zipped.”

Poppy's jaw dropped. “You don't have to be so rude, dear,” she said. “I'm just trying to save someone's life.”

The look on Madison's face was clearly unsympathetic. “I apologize if I've offended you, Mrs. van Lulu, but to be perfectly frank, I don't believe in psychics or any kind of supernatural stuff, so your warning is just the result of an overactive imagination.”

“Have I ever been wrong about
American Idol
and
Top Model
?” Poppy shot back. “Was I wrong about Britney?”

“You weren't,” Lex said quickly. “By the way, do you think she'll ever make another album?”

“The point I'm trying to make,” Madison said firmly, “is that there isn't time for this. I want you to go back to your table, Mrs. van Lulu, and I want you to sit there for the remainder of the luncheon.”

Poppy's face once again registered panic. She looked at Park and Lex, obviously seeking help, but they merely stared down at the floor and waited for the embarrassing moment to pass.

Madison pointed in the direction of the Michelangelo table. “Right now.”

“Fine,” Poppy said. “But I can't stay here. I'm too frightened! I know what I saw, and my visions are never wrong!” And with that, she turned around and marched away.

“I just can't believe the nerve of that woman,” Madison said. “Doesn't she ever give it a rest?”

Park shrugged. “You know how Poppy is. She's been doing that for ages, and she'll keep on doing it till she slips into a designer toe tag. It's just her way.”

“But what if she was right?” Lex blurted out suddenly.

The question was followed by dead silence.

Madison blinked twice. “You didn't really just say that.”

“Well…I mean…she sounded really upset,” Lex said. “And you know, whether or not you think she's a flake, you have to admit that some of her predictions have come true.”

“Coincidence, honey.” Park waved her hand dismissively.

“All of it?” Lex asked. “What if she had a premonition about one of us? Like, what if there's a psycho stalker in the room, watching us?”

“Oh, God,” Madison moaned. “Lex, you really have to stop reading those silly New Age books about crystals and love spells and sex magic.”

“Sex magic?” Park squinted. “Is there really such a thing?”

“Never mind.” Lex shook her arms and legs, as if trying to rid the sudden onslaught of fear from her bones. “Let's just forget about it and get a move on, because now I'm creeped out.”

“Whatever you do, don't mention any of this craziness to Tallula Kayson or her boyfriend, Elijah Traymore,” Madison said. “It'll make us
all
look dumb, and I want to make a really good impression. Tallula and Elijah are artists of the first rank.”

Lex giggled. “The first rank? Sometimes you sound like such an old lady when it comes to these artists. I mean, Tallula paints and Elijah sculpts. They're both twenty-two and college dropouts. I don't know if I'd call them artists of the first rank.”

Madison ran a hand through her long dark hair. “They aren't college dropouts,” she said dramatically. “It just so happens that their talent transcends the need for four years of dorm living.”

“Speak of the devil,” Park suddenly chimed in. “There's transcendent Elijah talking to Coco, who looks pretty drunk from here.”

“What?” Lex said.

Park gestured her head to the right. “Over there. It's Elijah. I recognize him from that whole spread he and Tallula got in
Vanity Fair.

Madison and Lex stared across the room. It was true. Huddled in a corner just to the right of the bar were Coco and Elijah Traymore, seemingly rapt in conversation. But it didn't take a genius—or an artist of the transcendent variety—to deduce that Coco was trying her best to play the role of seductress: she was staring up at Elijah with wide eyes and pouting lips, and one of her spaghetti straps had slipped off her shoulder. The martini glass in her right hand was nearly empty.

Elijah didn't seem to mind. Tall, lean, and definitely the artist in the room, he was dressed in paint-splattered jeans, a wrinkled black blazer, and scuffed black biker boots. His pale complexion was accentuated by messy jet-black hair and an assortment of silver chains dangling from his neck. If the girls weren't mistaken, there was even a wee bit of black eyeliner around his blue eyes.

“Damn,” Madison whispered, instantly panicked. “We have to get over there. You know what happens when Coco drinks too much. I don't want her on Page Six again.”

Lex and Park nodded. Coco McKaid was a dear friend, but booze played a wicked number on her. Two weeks ago, at a Jackie Collins book-release party in Beverly Hills, Coco had guzzled three too many drinks and ended up skinny-dipping in the pool with a former member of a popular boy band. Thankfully, there hadn't been any photographers hanging around to capture the chaotic scene.

If Madison, Park, and Lex didn't move fast, Coco would probably end up undressing right here in front of everyone.

“Look at her,” Lex said quietly. “She's drunker than Lindsay out of rehab.”

Park tucked her purse under her left arm. “Come on. Let's do this quickly.”

Madison led the way. In her typically staid fashion, she held her head high and smiled at the other, much older guests who turned to stare at her. In ten seconds flat, she, Park, and Lex made it to Coco's side.

“Oh!” Coco said loudly when she felt Madison's fingers curl around her arm. “Hi there!”

“Hello, dear.” In one smooth gesture, Madison whisked the martini glass out of Coco's hand and gently bumped her friend against the bar. Then Madison looked up at Elijah. She smiled brightly. She extended her hand. And, in an incredibly dramatic tone, she said, “Elijah, it's such an
honor
to meet you. I absolutely
adore
your work.”

Lex rolled her eyes.

Elijah Traymore, visibly flattered, set his drink on the bar and fixed Madison with an equally admiring stare. “Well, the Hamilton triplets,” he said. “I was hoping to meet you.” He took Madison's hand and kissed it. And held it. “You look absolutely stunning. I noticed you when you first came into the room.”

Madison blushed instantly. “Well…thank you.”

“No, thank
you,
” Elijah said, a bit too seductively.

Madison cleared her throat as his eyes swept over the length of her body. She felt his hot stare everywhere. It was obvious that he came on strong and fast, and she had to actually yank her hand free of his.

Elijah quickly turned and stared at Lex, studying her with the same unabashed gaze. “You're quickly becoming one of my favorite designers,” he said quietly. “And you're even more beautiful in person than I expected.”

The spicy comment didn't make Lex the least bit uncomfortable. “Aren't I, though?” She tossed her head back and nudged him with her shoulder. If not for Park's hand pulling her back, Lex would have taken Coco's place close to Elijah.

“Hi,” Park said, stepping in between them. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Elijah.”

“No, Park. The pleasure is all
mine.
” He reached out and clasped her hand. His eyes locked on hers, and he grinned suggestively. “I just can't wait to see you make your big-screen debut. I'll bet your director can't stop staring at you. Let me tell you—that Jeremy Bleu is one hell of a lucky guy.”

“Thank you,” Park replied coolly. She extracted her hand from Elijah's, but she didn't allow herself to appear rattled by his overt pass. That, after all, was exactly what he wanted.

Elijah Traymore wasn't the kind of guy who dropped subtle hints. He genuinely thought he was beyond it all. Sudden fame could do that to people. Especially men. Public adulation and good looks coupled with one spread in
Vanity Fair
and a guy could easily lose his grasp on reality. Park didn't have to get to know Elijah to make that assessment. It was obvious. And it was an instant turnoff.

She wasn't flattered by his compliments either. Everyone was waiting to see her screen debut. For the past six weeks, she'd been working tirelessly on the set of
Short Fuse,
the big-budget action thriller starring her boyfriend, Jeremy Bleu. Not a day went by without a celebrity reporter sneaking past her trailer and snapping a pic of her in wardrobe. Park was enjoying herself, but talking about this new chapter of her life was somewhat scary. She had never intended to become an actor. She hadn't really wanted to follow in the footsteps of her mother. She knew that most people—especially critics and celebutante haters—would be eager to completely trash her performance once the movie was released, and that very annoying fact was what forced her to push herself harder than ever. She didn't see
Short Fuse
as a way to expand her fame; she saw it as a job for which she was being paid, a serious business venture that required the highest levels of professionalism and determination. She was going to make one hell of an excellent impression on-screen.

Though Jeremy always encouraged her to talk about the movie, Park preferred letting the mystery of her acting career thicken. If there was one thing she'd learned about growing up in the public eye, it was the Rule of Silence: the less you said, the more people talked about you.

“Tell me,” Elijah continued, locking his eyes on hers, “are there any parts of the movie that have made you feel…uncomfortable?”

What an arrogant horn-dog,
Park thought. But she shook her head and said, “None at all. My role doesn't require nudity. And I'm sure that's what you're referring to.”

He smirked. “I hope the thought of nudity doesn't make a girl as beautiful as you uncomfortable. I'd love to sculpt you one day.”

“Sculpt me?” Park asked, sounding purposefully whimsical. “Why, I've never thought of that.”

“It takes a special kind of person to be an artist's muse,” Elijah said, and winked. “And I think sculpting your body would be an incredible experience.”

Park chuckled. “I have a personal trainer for that, so you might have to find someone else to buff your clay.”

Lex, who had been watching the exchange intently, burst out laughing.

Madison cleared her throat and quickly regained control of the situation. “Speaking of sculpting,” she said, “can you tell us anything about your newest project, Elijah?”

“My latest sculpture will be unveiled in a few weeks,” he replied, reaching again for his drink. “Then it'll go up for sale. Sotheby's is handling that, of course.”

“Sotheby's!” Madison's voice hit a high note. She was shocked. “That's so rare. Sotheby's doesn't usually work with such young artists. But it's great news. I've acquired a lot of my art through Sotheby's. I also enjoy the smaller galleries, though.”

“I saw you talking to Poppy van Lulu,” Elijah said suddenly. “Are you clients of hers?”

“Clients?” Madison laughed—she couldn't help herself. “For God's sake, no. She's a total…a great patroness of the arts, but still a little…ya know…
eccentric.

“Is there anything to eat?” Lex asked, completely shattering the art-snobbiness of the conversation. “I'm starving.”

Madison shot her a disapproving look.

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