The Fame Game (20 page)

“Well, when did you last see them?” Kate asked.

Gaby thought about this for a moment. “Yesterday morning,” she said. She seemed to think a little bit more, and then she started to say something. “I—” But she stopped and gave Madison a strange look.

Madison didn’t see it, though; she was gazing at the picture of herself in the
Gossip
spread. “I’m sure they’ll turn up,” she said, running her finger along the edge of the magazine. “Really.”

“All right, guys, I think we’ve got it.” The director of the day motioned for the camera guys to stop rolling and start packing up.

The PopTV crew began breaking down and carting all their heavy equipment back to the extra bedroom. One of the camera guys called, “Save some of that Champagne for me.”

“There’s a whole other bottle in the fridge,” Gaby said, momentarily forgetting about her earrings, thanks to the sight of a man with well-defined biceps.

Madison snorted. “Cast can’t date crew, remember?”

“Who said anything about dating?” Gaby asked.

But it turned out that the camera guy was only kidding around and being friendly; he actually had to go home to his wife and new baby.

When the crew left and the three girls were alone, Gaby turned to Madison. “I didn’t say this on-camera because I didn’t want to embarrass you. But Mad, the last time I saw those earrings was yesterday morning before your dad came over.”

Madison sat up. “Excuse me?” Her voice sounded like a steel blade.

Gaby paled slightly but held her ground. “I’m just saying. Those earrings were sitting on top of my dresser. And now they aren’t.”

“So you’re accusing my father of taking them?”

“I don’t know,” Gaby squeaked, clearly a little afraid of her roommate.

Maybe it was the Champagne that made Kate bold, or maybe it was the fact that Madison’s father was a convicted criminal, but she leaned forward and said, as gently as she could, “You know, Madison, you haven’t seen your father in over a decade. You might not know him as well as you think you do. Who knows what—”

Madison stood up, her cheeks flushed with anger. “Who the hell are you two to judge my father? An idiot and a nobody. How dare you accuse my father of stealing?” She turned to Gaby. “You with your apparent eating disorder and your inability to pronounce even the simplest words! Your room looks like a bomb went off in it. You’re an absolute mess. How do you expect to find anything?” Then she turned to Kate. “And you, Little Miss Wholesome, with your nice little Ohio family and their nice little minivan and their nice boring little lives! Only you’re not really so wholesome, are you? What do you know about
anything
?”

Kate’s heart began to pound in her chest. She didn’t know what to say. Madison didn’t know anything about Kate’s life in Ohio, but she certainly seemed to know something about it here.

“I’m just saying,” Gaby whispered. “I’ve looked everywhere.”

“Have you looked up your ass?” Madison hissed. “Maybe it’s up there, right next to your fat head.” Then she grabbed her purse and stormed out the door.

Gaby turned to Kate. “Ouch,” she said.

“No kidding,” Kate said. Then she set down her Champagne glass on the floor, gave Gaby a heartfelt hug, and slunk back to her apartment.

In her bedroom—which also looked like a bomb had gone off in it—she turned on her computer and checked her email. There was a message from Ethan.

No funny videos tonight. Just writing because it was the annual art fair and costume parade in the Short North. Remember when we dressed up like Jack White and Meg White? Good times, good times.

She was about to type a reply, but she noticed that her contacts list said that he was still online, even though it was past midnight in Ohio. She IM’d him.
You up? Want to Skype?

A moment later, her computer rang.

“Hey,” she said as she turned on the video. “What are you still doing up?”

Ethan’s face appeared on her screen, slightly pixilated but still familiar, still handsome. “Waiting to talk to you,” he said, smiling.

“Liar,” she said. She giggled. She was still feeling the wine.

He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But check you out—you got a new ’do.”

Kate self-consciously touched the haircut Madison had taken her to get. “I thought guys didn’t notice that sort of thing.”

“Most guys wouldn’t,” Ethan said. “But I’m not most guys, am I?”

“Uh, no?” Kate said.

“It looks good on you. But different, too. You’ve gone all Hollywood on me already.”

She looked at the little video screen that showed her face. “Oh, come on, I look the same, don’t I?”

Ethan shook his head. “Nope. But who cares? You’re beautiful no matter what you do.”

She ducked her head, hiding the blush in her cheeks. It was so good to see him, so good to hear his voice. She wished he were here in L.A. so they could sit at her kitchen table and make up fake band names (the Dangles; Manly Panda) and silly song titles (“Mom Jeans Genie”; “What’s That Funny Smell?”). And then, after a little while, she could tell him all about the absurd Luke situation.

But even though they’d been broken up for almost a year now, they’d never talked about seeing other people. And it didn’t feel right to start doing it now, as much as she might want to.

She looked up again, and there was Ethan, smiling, waiting for her to say something. “I miss you,” she said suddenly.

“I miss you, too,” he said.

He put his hand up to the screen, and she put her hand up to meet his. They stayed like that for a moment, holding hands from two thousand miles away.

Chapter 28
Part of a Larger Plan

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Philip Curtis said, smiling at Carmen as she came into the kitchen, a bunch of tulips in her hand. “Long time no see.”

She gave him a kiss and a little poke in his ample gut for the cat comment, then began opening cupboard doors, looking for a vase. It was her first Friday night family dinner in weeks, and she hadn’t wanted to show up empty-handed.

“Things have been busy,” she said. “I just got off a shoot, as a matter of fact.” They’d filmed her shopping with Fawn on Robertson, which had been fun; she hadn’t hung out with Fawn much lately. But the real reason for the scene wasn’t their little spree. It was actually just an excuse to film Carmen saying, after an hour or two, “Well, I’ve got to get home to Casa Curtis. Mom just got back from her ten-city tour, and Dad says he’s about to sign the next Adele.” It was pretty crafty of Trevor, Carmen thought; even though her parents didn’t want to be on
The Fame Game
, he frequently found ways to make them a presence.

She opened yet another cupboard, certain she’d find a vase. But instead she found a new blender, still unopened in its box. “Did Mom move things around in here?”

“Your mother, as you may recall, has been gone on tour for weeks. So I put things wherever I felt like it.”

“Oh, so that must be why the wine is next to the Cheerios.”

Philip shrugged. “Sometimes you need a little pick-me-up with breakfast.”

“Very funny,” Carmen said. She finally located a crystal vase in a cupboard that normally held baking supplies. “Aha,” she said, holding it up. “Victory.” She quickly trimmed off the ends of the tulips and arranged the flowers in the vase.

“Oh, those are just gorgeous, Carm,” said her mother, gliding into the room. “You’re so sweet and I’ve missed you like crazy.” She gave her daughter a squeeze with a tan, slender arm and then a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Carmen said. “Both of you.” She climbed onto one of the stools by the kitchen island and reached for a plate of olives and crostini. “I know you’re probably jet-lagged still and everything, but please tell me you made dinner, Mom. I’m totally not in the mood for Hamburger Helper.”

Philip looked affronted. “As if that’s the only thing I can cook!”

“Oh yeah, right,” Carmen said, laughing. “There’s also Tuna Helper and frozen pizzas.”

“Exactly,” Philip said. “I’m a whiz in the kitchen.”

Cassandra held up a hand. “Don’t worry, I cooked. We’re having roast chicken with lemongrass and ginger.” She twisted her long dark hair into a bun and sat next to Carmen on a kitchen stool.

“Sounds great,” Carmen said. “Too bad Drew couldn’t come.”

Philip nodded. “Yes, but he’s got to earn his keep. There’s a show at the Bootleg I wanted him to check out.”

“Let’s just eat in here, then,” Cassandra said. “No Drew, no dining room.”

“I had no idea it was Drew who was keeping us so civilized all this time, but fine by me,” Carmen said. “Is it going to be ready soon? I’m starving.”

“Shopping works up an appetite, doesn’t it?” Philip asked.

Carmen looked at him in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“That gleam in your eye. It’s just like your mother’s. It’s the gleam of material conquest. You must have found a four-hundred-dollar pair of cashmere socks or something.”

Carmen laughed. “It’s summertime, Dad. In
L.A
. What would I need cashmere socks for?”

“Who knows? I don’t follow the whims of fashion. Maybe they’re all the rage because Gwyneth Paltrow likes them,” he said. But he smiled, and Carmen knew that he was pleased to make the sort of money that would allow his daughter to buy a pair of four-hundred-dollar socks, should she in fact want them.

The timer on the oven beeped, and Cassandra extracted a beautifully roasted bird. “Voilà,” she said. “There’s roasted veggies in there, too. Because God knows Philip didn’t touch a vegetable the whole time I was gone.”

“Isn’t scotch a vegetable?” he asked, winking at her.

She rolled her eyes and proceeded to serve them their dinner on white bone china plates.

“So,” Philip said as he sliced into his chicken, “I read something interesting about you the other day.”

Carmen hoped it was something besides the Luke business. “What?”

“That you’re dating that Australian actor—what’s his name?”

“Luke Kelly,” Cassandra said. “He’s her costar in
The End of Love.
Oh, honey, it’s just so exciting about the movie! Did you get the bouquet I sent?”

“Yeah, thanks, Mom; it’s on my dresser. And yeah, it’s amazing about the movie. But that Luke thing? Untrue. I’m not dating him. Didn’t you tell him, Mom?”

“Tell me what?” Philip asked. “You didn’t break up already, did you?”

Carmen laughed. “No, Dad! I haven’t had a boyfriend in forever—you think I’d get rid of one so quickly now? The truth is that we were never dating in the first place. We’re just friends.”

As she proceeded to explain the story to them (leaving out the part about their casual hookup, of course—she didn’t tell her parents
everything
), she saw the expression on her father’s face change from surprise, to bafflement, to distaste.

“So it’s a lie then,” he said when she had finished. “Is this your musician friend Drew told me about?”

Carmen nodded, happy that Drew was talking up Kate at work.

“You’re participating in a lie that very likely is causing your friend Kate stress, if not downright pain. How is that a good idea?”

Carmen sighed. “Oh, Dad, she understands! It’s all part of a larger plan.”
I
hope
she understands
, she thought but didn’t add
. I mean, I think she does.

But her dad shook his head. “I don’t like it,” he said. “I don’t like dishonesty, and I don’t like the fact that this TV show hasn’t even aired yet and it’s already turning your life around.” He pointed a chicken leg at her—a gesture that was maybe meant to look intimidating but which merely looked comical. “This isn’t how things are supposed to work.”

Carmen bristled. “Yes, the show has turned my life around, Dad. For the
better
. You know that Colum McEntire wasn’t even going to let me audition? And then Trevor Lord convinced him to give me a chance, and then I was so good that
he gave me the lead
. The lead, Dad! In a movie I otherwise would have been lucky to be an extra in.” She realized that she was gripping her fork so hard that her knuckles were white.

“I’m sure you both have a point—” Cassandra began.

“What I’m seeing, Carmen,” Philip interrupted, “is a pattern of you pretending to do something, or be something, for the benefit of other people. You took the fall for Fawn when she shoplifted, and now you’re letting Luke pretend like he’s your boyfriend because he and his slimeball agent think that’s better for his image. What else will you agree to do?”

Carmen blinked at her father. She hadn’t seen him this upset in a long time, and she was torn between comforting him and yelling at him. She understood that he had a point, but he was blowing the whole thing way out of proportion.

“Well?” Philip asked.

Carmen shook her head. She decided not to fight him. The premiere was in a week, and she couldn’t risk a blowup that would prevent him from coming. “Seriously, Dad,” she said, reaching across the counter to touch his hand. “You have to trust me on this one. Everything is going to work out in the end, and I’m only going to be better and stronger after this experience. Okay?”

Philip looked toward Cassandra, who nodded slightly. She had always been more understanding of Carmen’s strange half-famous life, perhaps because she herself was so used to the spotlight.

“You think she knows what she’s doing?” he asked his wife.

“I do,” Cassandra said. “We raised a smart girl, Philip. Let’s trust her. Let’s see what amazing things she does with the opportunities she’s been given.”

Philip gazed into his scotch, swirling the ice cubes around in his glass. After a moment he looked up. “Okay,” he said finally. “Consider my objections raised and withdrawn. For now.” He shot Carmen a look. “I just want you to be careful.”

She smiled at him. “Daddy, I will be. Thank you for understanding. Does this mean you guys will be at the premiere then?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Cassandra said.

“Me either,” said Philip.

Carmen beamed at both of them. “Thanks, you guys.”

Her mother patted her arm and then suddenly looked very serious. “You know what this means, Carmen,” she said.

Carmen was puzzled. “No . . .”

“Barneys,” Cassandra said. “You, me, and a gold AmEx.”

Philip rolled his eyes. “I could have predicted
that
.”

Carmen laughed. “Well, just like Friday night dinners, shopping is a family tradition,” she said. “Right, Dad?”

And of course Philip Curtis had to agree.