“Oh,” Gaby said. “In that case I’m going to go grab some water. Anyone want anything?”
“No thanks,” Kate and Madison said at the same time.
Madison turned to Kate. “So, how are the songs coming?” Her smile was bright and eager.
Kate couldn’t tell how sincere her interest actually was, but as long as she wasn’t asking about Luke, she decided to pretend it was 100 percent genuine. Madison had seemed so much mellower these days, and Kate was settling into kind of, sort of, actually . . . liking her. “Good,” she said. “I’ve got a bunch of new ones that I’m hoping to perform pretty soon. Maybe another open mic at Grant’s or something.”
Madison nodded. “You should get a real gig sometime. You know, where you don’t have to share the stage with a bunch of folk-song freaks.”
“Uh, yeah,” Kate said. “Maybe someday.” It would be nice, she had to admit; there was always a high percentage of weirdos at an open mic. It just came with the territory. “Once there was this guy who was working on a whole song cycle about bumblebees. . . .”
Gaby reappeared with a giant bottle of water. “Hey, where’s Carmen, anyway? Is she out with her new man?”
Kate glanced down at the coffee table, where the latest issue of Gossip was prominently displayed. She was sure Trevor had told Gaby to ask that question. She shrugged. “I haven’t heard from her,” she said. “I talked to her yesterday, but . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence.
Though Kate wanted to push the thought from her mind, she couldn’t help but remember yesterday afternoon, when Carmen and Luke had stopped by Stecco for lunch while she was working. Although “stopping by” wasn’t exactly accurate. It was all worked out in advance, of course—Luke’s agent had to give him the go-ahead to appear on the show (just once! just to talk about The End of Love!); the Stecco manager had once again okayed the filming as long as the entrance and sign were prominently displayed on air; the customers and employees who might be in the shot had all signed releases—but Kate had been unprepared for how uncomfortable she’d feel.
Carmen and Luke were seated at a table near the bar, so that Kate would be in the background in most of the intimate shots. Luke looked happy and handsome in a cream polo, and Carmen was stylish in a vaguely Indian-looking print blouse and skinny jeans. Kate, of course, was wearing unflattering black pants, a white oxford shirt, and a green-and-brown-striped tie. This fact alone made her want to crawl under the counter and curl up in a little ball.
But of course she couldn’t do that, could she? No, she’d had to serve them their water (no ice for Carmen, extra lemon for Luke) and smile while doing so.
“Hey, you guys,” she’d said brightly. “How awesome you could drop by! Your server will be by in a few minutes to take your order, but I’ll come back and check on you.”
Carmen had been her typical nice self, but Luke seemed slightly uncomfortable. Good, she’d thought. He ought to be.
Their directions were to discuss their upcoming movie: who else would be cast, how long the shooting would take, what it might be like to work with Colum McEntire, who had a legendary hair-trigger temper, blah, blah, blah.
Kate watched them and eavesdropped as much as her duties would let her. Their interaction was all totally harmless. They were laughing a lot, but just the way old friends do. Of course, she thought, Trevor could take the footage and turn it into whatever he wanted. L.A. Candy had been full of “meaningful” looks and pauses and she now knew why: That moment when Carmen looked longingly at a piece of cake at the table behind them? The time when Luke accidentally brushed Carmen’s hand when they both reached for a breadstick? No doubt by the time the reels were cut and the scene edited, it’d look like the two of them were more in love than Romeo and Juliet had ever been.
Kate might have considered telling Laurel how having the two of them in her face made the whole situation even more unpleasant for her, but Laurel was off filming Madison at some fund-raiser or something, so she had not a single ally on the other side of the camera. There was also a small—very small—part of Kate that wondered at the timing of this lunch at her restaurant. Had Laurel said something to Trevor? Had Madison? Was Trevor actively throwing Carmen and Luke in her face because he knew it would be torture for her and wanted more drama or simply because he knew he could secure the location? Maybe he was even getting a little deep, showing the haves and the have-nots in one all-encompassing exchange.
Ugh.
Thankfully, it was over in an hour, and Kate could stop analyzing it as it was happening. When everyone was going their separate ways, Luke had mouthed, “I’ll call you tonight.” And, when no one was looking, he’d blown her a kiss. But it hadn’t really made her feel better.
“Hey,” Madison said now, jabbing Kate with a bare, pedicured foot. “Gaby’s about to be on TV! Get excited.”
Kate shook off the memory as best she could. “Sorry,” she said. “I was just wondering if I should text Carmen to see where she is.”
“Don’t bother,” said Madison, sinking into the couch. “Like Gab said, she’s off with her man of the moment.”
“What do you mean, of the moment?” Kate asked. Carmen didn’t seem like the serial dating type.
Madison shrugged. “I mean, come on, Luke Kelly is a total flirt. I give their relationship two months, tops.”
Kate frowned. Luke was a flirt? Where was Madison getting this information exactly?
She knows, Kate thought. And she’s just trying to get a rise out of me. Maybe she and Laurel worked this out together. And then Kate realized the ridiculousness of Madison and Laurel teaming up to do anything and decided that if Madison knew anything it’s that Kate was dating an unknown actor named Luke, and now Carmen was dating Luke Kelly. . . . The rest was just a fishing expedition for her.
“By the time filming on the movie starts, they’ll be done,” Madison went on. “But they’ll probably pretend to still be together for the tabloids. Seriously, this has nothing to do with passion and everything to do with publicity. It’s so transparent.”
Kate downed her entire glass of Champagne in two swallows. Madison might not know the true story of Carmen and Luke, but she sure had sussed out the gist of it, she thought. Well, Madison was a pro.
A commercial came on and suddenly all three girls were staring at the TV. It was their commercial. Kate was transfixed as quick cuts of images of herself flew by (meeting Madison and Gaby at the pool! Carrying her guitar into Grant’s!). The trailer had a lot of her in it, but they’d packed in a lot of unfriendly glances between Madison and Carmen, too. It all happened so fast that Kate could barely remember what the text that flashed on the screen throughout had said. Something about “from the creator of L.A. Candy” and “a peek behind the scenes of what it takes to make it in Hollywood.” And then something about fame and those who are born with it (cut to Carmen on the red carpet) and those who are chasing it (Madison and Kate out shopping; Gaby walking out of her dressing room), and how staying in the game is only the beginning. Or something. Gaby was barely in the commercial, but she didn’t seem to mind because the second it ended, her show came back on.
“Look, oh my God, there I am!” Gaby squealed.
And sure enough, there she was on-screen, looking overly made-up and highly self-conscious. Beside her on the set, in a matching armchair, sat Carmen, smiling and obviously much more at ease.
“So, you’ve just been given the role of Julia in The End of Love. It’s your first picture with a major studio. How are you feeling about it?” asked the on-screen Gaby.
“Good solid opening,” said Madison supportively.
“Oh, I didn’t write the questions,” Gaby said. She was chewing on her nails.
No, of course you didn’t, thought Kate. She watched the interview, but she wasn’t really listening. It was all so fake; she didn’t have the energy for it. She’d just seen herself on national TV for chrissakes and even that looked fake. What she did have the energy for, she though
t, was another glass of Champagne. She reached over to the bottle that was open on the coffee table and poured herself a flute full of the sparkling liquid.
“Cheers,” Madison said, clinking her glass with Kate’s. “To—” She stopped, blinked, and then laughed. “To what? I have absolutely no idea.”
“To more Champagne!” Kate said, suddenly feeling a little better, as if the glass she’d just finished had gone straight to her head.
“You guys,” Gaby whined, “you’re not paying attention.”
“Sorry!” they said in unison and turned their attention to the screen, where they were treated to the sight of Gaby mispronouncing the word “relevance.”
When it was over, they clapped enthusiastically and Gaby took a modest bow. “I wasn’t horrible, was I?”
“Not at all,” Kate said, meaning it. “You were cute.”
“Oh, good,” Gaby said. Suddenly she frowned. “Did you see those earrings I was wearing?”
Kate shook her head. She’d barely paid attention to the interview at all; how could she be expected to notice Gaby’s accessories?
“Nope,” said Madison, pouring herself and Kate another glass of Champagne.
Wow, Kate thought. Did I really finish that second glass that fast?
“Well, they were diamond solitaires. Big ones. And I can’t find them anywhere.”
Kate leaned back in her chair and crossed her feet at her ankles. She was getting happier and more comfortable by the minute. She should always have Champagne! “Oh, Gaby,” she said lightly. “I’m sure they’re just in your room somewhere. Remember when you bought that pair of earrings twice because you thought you’d lost them?” Kate pointed to her own earlobes, from which the earrings in question dangled prettily. “I’m sure that’s what happened to them. Thanks again, by the way, for these. They’re my favorites.”
Madison laughed. “You are always losing things, Gab.”
“But I’ve looked all over the place for them,” she said. “And I can’t find them. And they were really, really expensive.”
“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.”
The Fame Game Page 19
