Before Ivy could ask what on earth was going on, Mr Vega popped his head out of the kitchen. ‘Is that Sophia shouting?’
‘Sorry, Mr Vega,’ Sophia replied, adjusting her skull-print messenger bag. ‘I hope you don’t mind me barging in, but I’ve got some exciting news.’
‘No, no,’ he replied. ‘Come through to the dining room. We’re just having lunch.’
Sophia grabbed Ivy’s hands, and bounced. Actually bounced.
‘Sophia?’ Ivy said warily, knowing something was up. Her friend did not, under any circumstances, bounce.
‘I want to tell you and Olivia at the same time!’ Sophia scuttled off towards the dining room, leaving Ivy to trail after.
‘Ta da!’ Sophia called, pulling out a stack of magazines and waving them in the air.
‘What is it?’ Olivia said, standing up from her chair.
Sophia slapped each magazine down one by one: the LA Daily, StarWatch, Hollywood Happenings. Then she started flipping through the pages.
‘There!’ she declared, pointing to a spread on The Groves premiere with a big shot of Olivia, posing in her dress.
‘Eeee!’ Olivia squealed. ‘It’s me!’
‘And me.’ Sophia pushed down the page, so they could see the words in tiny type just inside the fold of the paper: ‘Photo by Sophia Hewitt.’
‘Olivia Abbott, supporting actress in the film, looked sharp and sparkling with her cut away dress,’ Ivy read. ‘Hey, that counts as a good review!’
‘Congratulations!’ Lillian said, clapping.
Sophia turned to the dog-eared pages in each of the magazines. There were three other shots of Olivia, all snapped by Sophia.
‘OK,’ Ivy said to Sophia.
Sophia looked serious for a moment. ‘OK what?’
‘OK, I will forgive you – just this once – for the bouncing.’ Ivy grinned and gave her best friend a hug.
Mr Vega came in, balancing six plates on his arms: burgers with fresh avocado salad and French fries, which he’d stacked up in a little tower like they were at a fancy restaurant. Ivy helped him put the plates on the table and saw that while the five vampires had pretty much rare steak, Olivia had a homemade veggie burger.
‘This looks great!’ Brendan said. ‘I should come over for meals more often.’
‘Thanks for fitting me in,’ Sophia said, crunching on a pickle.
‘Ketchup?’ Ivy and Olivia asked at the same time.
‘As if I could forget,’ Mr Vega said, reaching around the door for a little tray of condiments.
Ivy covered her hunk of meat in ketchup, and Olivia dotted some delicately around her fries. Brendan dug in, but Mr Vega was still watching Lillian.
There is something going on here, Ivy thought. Dad is acting very weird. Good weird, but definitely weird.
She tried to catch Olivia’s eye, but Olivia was still looking at the magazines. Mr Vega cleared his throat and Ivy thought he was going to say something, but then he just started eating.
Is he nervous? Ivy wondered. There was an awkward silence, so Ivy decided to fill it. ‘What kind of movie are you working on next?’
‘I wanted to risk doing something small on my own,’ Lillian replied. ‘A little independent film where I get to be full director for the first time.’
‘What’s it about?’ Brendan asked, with his mouth full.
Lillian smiled. ‘It’s a documentary-drama about a dancer who was executed during World War I for being a spy.’
‘Ooh,’ replied Ivy. ‘Sounds cool.’
‘I know about her,’ Mr Vega finally broke his silence. ‘Mata Hari, right? She turned out to be innocent, in the end.’
‘That’s right,’ Lillian said, clearly impressed. ‘The script has gone through so many revisions, making sure we get all the history correct.’
‘It sounds amazing,’ Olivia said.
‘Thanks!’ Lillian said.
‘I’m quite familiar with that time period – having lived through it myself. Perhaps I could help by reading the script?’ Mr Vega offered.
Lillian laughed. ‘I’m not going to reveal my age, but I’d be grateful for the advice.’
Ivy watched the two adults smile at each other. When Lillian jumped up to help Mr Vega clear the plates, Ivy whispered to Olivia, ‘Did you see that?’
‘What?’ asked Olivia.
‘Them,’ Ivy said.
Olivia tilted her head to one side. ‘Them what?’
‘Dad is acting all weird,’ Ivy said.
‘Because he wants to read the script?’ Brendan asked, spinning around the UFO-shaped salt cellar.
‘I think it’s more than that,’ Ivy replied. She definitely was getting a romantic vibe from the way they stared at each other. ‘You didn’t notice anything unusual?’ she asked her sister.
Olivia was the ultimate match-maker – after all, she got Brendan to ask Ivy out on their first date. So if she wasn’t seeing it, maybe it wasn’t there?
‘All I’ve noticed is that Lillian has great taste in movies,’ Olivia said. ‘I really like her.’
When Lillian and Mr Vega came back, carrying the chocolate cookies, with cherry sauce for Olivia and a bloody syrup for the five vampires, Ivy decided she would test her theory.
‘So, Lillian.’ She watched her dad as she asked blatantly, ‘Are you single?’
‘Ivy Vega!’ Mr Vega admonished, horrified.
‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ Lillian said, glancing at Mr Vega.
Ah ha! Ivy thought.
‘As a matter of fact I am single,’ Lillian said. ‘This business keeps me pretty busy.’
‘You don’t want to date an actor then?’ Ivy pressed, still looking at Mr Vega, who was leaning slightly forwards over the table, clearly listening.
‘Oh no,’ Lillian protested. ‘They’re all tans and teeth. How shallow is that?’
Ivy nodded her agreement, but caught sight of Olivia looking peculiar.
‘Oh! All, apart from Jackson,’ she hastily added.
Ivy bit her lip to stop the laughter that threatened to bubble up. ‘So you prefer the pale look?’ she went on, now cheekily grinning at her dad.
‘That’s enough of that,’ Mr Vega said, standing up to clear some plates. ‘Finish up your cookie, Miss Cross-examiner. Wasn’t there going to be some homework catch-up today?’
Brendan nodded. ‘I hope so, Mr Vega. I need some help with my math.’ He flashed a wicked grin at Ivy. ‘If you have twice as many paparazzi as celebrities and three times as many cameras as – oof!’
Ivy elbowed him in the ribs. ‘This is a celebrity-free zone until I have recovered from last night,’ she declared and she took her last bite of the freshly baked cookie.
‘I’ve brought my books,’ Olivia said. ‘Let’s go down to your room.’
The four of them carried their plates into the kitchen, and just before they went through the dining-room door, Ivy glanced over her shoulder at Mr Vega and Lillian, who were huddling close over the kitchen table, where Mr Vega had laid out some design papers.
They do make a cute couple, Ivy thought.
As they headed to the basement staircase Ivy said, ‘Don’t you think Dad is into Lillian?’
But before they’d even reached the bottom step, Ivy heard Lillian calling, ‘Bye!’ and the front door closing.
‘If he was interested, I think it would be good for him to try dating again,’ Olivia replied. ‘But he’s not doing a very good job if the second we leave them alone, Lillian flees.’
Brendan chuckled. ‘Mr Vega needs to work on his game.’ He pretended he was boxing, bouncing and throwing imaginary punches.
‘I suppose you’re the world champion, lady killer?’ Ivy asked.
‘There’s only one lady for me,’ Brendan called after her. ‘And I’ve got her, haven’t I?’
‘OK you two,’ Olivia said. ‘It’s time for math. I want to finish this so I can get home and get ready for the party tonight. My parents are going to chaperone. Ivy, I hop
e you’re coming.’
Ivy gulped. She still hadn’t mentioned to Olivia her conversation with Harker about the two of them starring in a movie together.
Anyway, it probably isn’t going to happen, Ivy told herself. Why get Olivia worked up for nothing?
She’d had enough of all the parties, but she knew her sister wanted the moral support. ‘Yes, OK, but Brendan, you have to come as my date.’
Brendan frowned. ‘Sorry, Ivy, but I’ve got to babysit Bethany tonight. My parents are going star-gazing somewhere in the middle of nowhere.’
Ivy sighed. ‘Well, at least you can help me pick out what to wear.’
‘Is that Richard Redford over there?’ Mrs Abbott gasped, holding a napkin full of olives pits in one hand and her silver clutch bag in the other.
‘No, Mom,’ Olivia said, patting her mom on the arm. ‘This isn’t that big a party.’
‘It feels like it to me!’ Mrs Abbott said. She was wearing her purple silk suit for the occasion and, with her funky lace pantyhose, she suited the glamorous party crowd.
‘Isn’t that Jackson?’ said Mr Abbott, looking across the crowded room at someone trying to make their way over.
Olivia clapped her hands. ‘Yes!’ He was wearing a new black jacket over jeans and grinned as she caught his eye.
He waved her over.
‘Can I?’ Olivia asked her parents.
‘Go, my daughter, and spread your wings,’ said Mr Abbott in his typical philosophical way.
Olivia kissed him on the cheek and hurried over to her boyfriend.
‘Have you met Olivia Abbott?’ Jackson said to a lady wearing a blue sequined blouse. ‘The most gorgeous girl here tonight?’
Olivia blushed. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she said, shaking the woman’s hand firmly.
‘Lovely earrings,’ the woman said.
Olivia had chosen a green Greek tunic-style dress with large silver earrings and silver sandals. ‘Thank you,’ she replied. There was a mix of glamour and casual, with most of the women dressing up, with jewels and full-length dresses, and most of the men – Hollywood producers and casting agents – in tailored jackets and expensive-looking jeans.
The post-premiere party was being held in the local heritage wing of the Franklin Grove Art Museum. Mr Vega had been working for the past four months on the biggest exhibit the small museum had ever built. There were paintings and sculptures by artists from the area spanning over a hundred years. There was everything from a weathered stone gnome to an abstract painting with black splodges called ‘Cemetery’.
Mr Vega had also included a section with photographs, stories and models of how the town had developed. One image showed the old railroad station, while the one next to it showed how that had become the mall.
Jackson and Olivia were standing next to a sculpture of melted coloured glass that looked like a twisted Eiffel Tower in red, white and blue. They were each nibbling goat’s cheese tartlets. There was a violin quartet playing in the corner and waitress in a tuxedo circulating with a tray.
After the woman drifted away, Jackson pulled Olivia behind the Eiffel Tower, where no one else could see them.
‘I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry about last night,’ Jackson said, drawing her close.
‘I know,’ Olivia replied. ‘But it all worked out in the end.’
‘We’re going to sit down with Amy and decide on the perfect time to go public.’ Jackson looked like he would ninja-chop anyone who tried to convince him otherwise.
She nodded. ‘OK. If it’s what you want.’
She leaned forwards and Jackson did, too. Just as they were about to kiss –
‘There you are!’ squealed a high-pitched voice. Jackson and Olivia broke apart to see Jessica Phelps poking her head around the glass tower. Jessica sashayed over and kissed Jackson on the cheek, completely ignoring Olivia. ‘I’ve been wondering where my fabulous co-star was hiding!’
Olivia felt her face freezing into an Ivy-special death stare. Jessica was being so rude!
‘Hi Jessica,’ she cut in, not letting the Hollywood starlet squeeze her out of the conversation.
Jessica blinked at her, clearly annoyed that Olivia had dared to interrupt her. ‘And you are?’
Olivia smiled through gritted teeth, wondering if she could get away with chucking her goat’s cheese tartlet at Jessica. But Jackson stepped in.
‘You remember Olivia,’ Jackson said pointedly. ‘She was a supporting actress in The Groves and is, of course, my leading lady.’
Olivia wanted to hug him again. That was the first time he’d said to anyone straight out that they were a couple. She wanted to do a cheer, she was so happy.
Jessica narrowed her eyes. ‘Leading lady?’
Jackson gave Olivia another little cuddle, and Olivia smiled at Jessica.
‘Well.’ Jessica tossed her hair. ‘How nice.’ But since she made no attempt to move away and leave them in peace, Olivia could tell that she wasn’t going to give up that easily. She’d obviously tracked Jackson down for a reason and Olivia had a sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to like whatever it was. ‘What were you two talking about?’ Jessica asked.
‘Well, I was going to tell Olivia about this new script I’ve been offered,’ Jackson said. ‘Amy does a little dance every time she brings it up; she thinks it’s going to be big. It’s a book-to-film adaptation called Eternal Sunset.’
Jessica and Olivia squealed at the same time.
Olivia knew that book and the whole series like the back of her hand. It was Count Vira’s most epic vampire romance and one of her favourites.
‘Reading the script is the next thing on my list,’ Jackson said.
‘I got that script today, too!’ Jessica purred, slipping her arm through Jackson’s. ‘I’m up for the lead. Wouldn’t it be great to get Jessickson back together?’ She shot Olivia a look at this point that pretty much said, ‘Watch out.’
No, it would not, Olivia wanted to shout. And the whole merged couple name ‘Jessickson’ sounds stupid!
Jackson was frowning, too. ‘Ah, well . . .’ he trailed off.
‘It would be killer if you were in that movie,’ Olivia told him, steering the conversation away from Jessica’s pointed remark. ‘I absolutely love those books.’
‘They aren’t exactly my kind of thing,’ Jackson admitted.
‘What do you mean?’ Olivia said, hoping Jackson wasn’t going to be disparaging about Count Vira’s writing.
‘Honestly, I’m just not a big fan of vampires,’ he replied, shrugging. ‘The whole idea of them is dumb.’
Jessica tossed her hair. Of course, Jackson didn’t know about vampires, and it was going to have to stay that way. Olivia hated keeping such a big secret from him, but it wasn’t really her secret to tell.
‘Well, Jackie,’ Jessica said. ‘I just wanted to say that LA really misses you.’ She put on a fake pout, but Jackson wasn’t playing her game. He gave a polite smile, saying nothing. He’d moved to Franklin Grove to be near Olivia, and there was nothing Jessica could do about that.
‘You should come back,’ she purred. ‘It’s where you belong.’ She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Bye, now!’ She waggled her fingers and flounced away.
Jackson looked baffled. ‘She’s a little over the top tonight, isn’t she?’
When isn’t Jessica over the top? Olivia took a deep breath. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’
The sign said, ‘Money-crazed, desperate men abandoning all morals in the rush to strike it rich.’
Ivy sighed. Is that the California Gold Rush or a description of the people in this room?
She’d been busying herself reading and rereading sections of the museum’s displays to avoid having to talk to anyone. This one was about how Franklin Grove was a busy stop on the route to California.
She was keeping an eye out for Olivia, the whole reason she had come tonight, but ever since Jackson had showed up, her sister had disappeared.
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A bald man to her left was flashing a chunky gold watch and designer sunglasses. A woman on her right wore a two-inch-wide ruby bracelet. The young couple in front of her had both clearly had plastic surgery.
‘Oh, you’re so funny!’ someone declared and then burst out into a fake laugh.
Ivy didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. Jessica Phelps.
A hush fell over the crowd as an ice sculpture of Jackson’s and Jessica’s heads was wheeled into the room.
Jessica squealed with delight and rushed over. ‘Oh, my gosh!’ she practically screamed. ‘It’s me!’
Like we needed you to explain that, Ivy thought. How can anyone take her seriously? She may be a vampire, but she acts like the doziest bunny there ever was.
Ivy decided she’d had all she could take and was just about to make her way to a side entrance to sneak out when she caught sight of a familiar face. Blonde ponytail, slightly too much blusher and a little sneer. It was Charlotte Brown.
‘How did she weasel her way in here?’ Ivy muttered. Charlotte had only had one disastrous scene as an extra in the film, so there must have been some Daddy manoeuvring that got her an invitation.
Charlotte hovered behind Jessica, clearly eavesdropping and trying to get the starlet’s attention. Ivy ducked behind a potted topiary in the shape of a peacock, so she could get closer without being seen.
When Jessica looked over, Charlotte turned on her biggest smile. ‘Oh, hi, Jessica!’ she said, trying to pretend that she just happened to be standing there.
Jessica raised one eyebrow.
Ivy leaned forwards and pushed away a twig that was sticking out from the peacock’s tail and tickling her nose. She was hoping for a delicious cut-down. After all, Jessica wasn’t nice to anyone and surely the Hollywood vamp was going to tell Charlotte to get lost.
‘I just love those Bibble Bubble shoes,’ Charlotte cooed. ‘They must be next season’s because I haven’t seen them anywhere.’
Jessica looked Charlotte up and down, clearly evaluating whatever pink, fashion-victim code she was presenting, and deciding that Charlotte passed.
‘You’re right,’ Jessica said. ‘François sent them to me straight from the prototypes.’
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