She sighed, staring into her water glass. “I don’t mind talking about it, I just don’t want to bore you.”
“We’re not bored,” I said. “You can tell us as much or as little as you want.”
“Yeah, we can just talk about how cute Moxie is if you want,” said Jack.
Madeline smiled, scratching behind Moxie’s ears. The little dog leaned into her hand, a satisfied expression creeping over her cheeky features.
“She definitely likes you,” I said.
Madeline smiled. I got the impression it was the first time she’d genuinely smiled in a long time. “You think?”
I nodded. “Although you are giving her an ear rub, which is her favorite. That probably helps.”
She stroked Moxie, her gaze distant as if she was deep in thought. “I ran away from my husband. I tried to get as far away as I could, but then I ran out of money and couldn’t draw any more out because he would’ve been able to trace it. None of the shelters could help me because they were all full.” She sighed, her eyes welling with tears. She looked up to the cloudy sky and squeezed her eyes shut for a minute. “So here I am.”
I reached over and put my hand on hers. She flinched.
“Sorry,” we chorused. Madeline blushed.
“How long have you been homeless?” asked Jack.
“I’m not sure. The days start to merge after a while,” she said.
“Yeah, they do,” said Jack. “I lived on the streets a few years ago. Got kicked out by the only family I had.”
“I’m really sorry,” said Madeline.
“Thanks. It was a long time ago. Do you have any other family around?”
“They told me to stay away. Said that my husband had been snooping around, asking them where I was. They’ve sent me money a couple of times but it’s hard, you know?” said Madeline. She stopped stroking Moxie so that she could wipe at her eyes with a napkin.
“Let me help you,” I said.
“Help me? How? You don’t even know me.”
*
I put Madeline up in a hotel for the night. She’d insisted on the cheapest one nearby, which I agreed to as I figured she’d be more comfortable. We bought her a change of clothes then got the hotel to wash all her clothes and blankets. She’d been wearing the same clothes for longer than she could remember. What a horrible way to live.
I was pretty sure that as soon as I left the hotel room she started crying, but I couldn’t tell for definite. Based on the heaving of her chest and how desperate she was to get rid of me, it seemed pretty likely.
Jack, Moxie, and I returned to my apartment just in time to catch a rerun of American Idol. We curled up on the sofa with some takeout—or in Moxie’s case, a yak milk chew—and sat watching it. Watching Ryan Seacrest talk to one of the show’s runners gave me an idea.
“I want to offer Madeline a job.”
“Doing what?” said Jack. He picked up a spring roll from the coffee table and ate it.
I swallowed my satay. “It’s about time I had an assistant, don’t you think?”
“What if she sucks at it? Being an assistant is hard.”
“What would you have done to get away from living on the streets?”
“Just about anything,” he said.
“So you don’t think she’d work hard for a job where she gets good pay and a place to live?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” said Jack.
*
I went to Madeline’s hotel room early the next morning. I wanted to catch her before she ran off. She was just getting dressed when I knocked. She opened the door and pulled me into a hug.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I’m not finished yet.”
“You’re not?” she said.
There was a thin haze of smoke in the room that I could just about see. No, it wasn’t smoke. It was deodorant. I’d barely been in the room a couple of seconds before I could feel it on my chest. I walked over to the window and gestured to it. “Sorry, do you mind if I open this? The spray is triggering my asthma.”
“I’m really sorry! If I’d known you were coming and that it was a trigger for you I would’ve opened it sooner.”
I forced the window open and gulped in the sort-of-fresh New York air. Ah, that was better. “It’s OK. It’s my fault for showing up unannounced.”
I gulped in some more air. My asthma was calming down enough that I didn’t need my inhaler. I probably should’ve taken it anyway, but I preferred to save it for when my breathing was really bad and I couldn’t do anything else to calm it down. Opening a window was a simple solution.
“No, I didn’t think about it. This just happens to be one where they all open, but the higher-up rooms have bars on. I hate not being able to get fresh air when I want it.”
I listened for a moment. We were a few stories up, but we could hear cars humming down below and insects buzzing past the window. “And listen to the sound of New York City.”
“It’s a magical sound, isn’t it?” said Madeline.
“Yeah, it is,” I said. “Do you plan on sticking around?”
“I don’t have anything to go back to. I mean, I miss my parents, but if I go back there I risk putting them in harm’s way. It isn’t worth it.”
“I’m really sorry about your situation. I wish there was more I could do.”
“Honestly, I’m just glad to have a hot shower, clean clothes, and warm food.”
I smiled. I was glad she had that too. I walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, then gestured for Madeline to sit too. She did. “If you’re interested, I’m looking for a new PA. Well, actually I’ve never had one before. My parents used to do my schedule and everything, but things with them are weird right now, so I’d rather have someone else do it. Someone like you.”
“Me?” she echoed.
“We can find you somewhere nearby to live, get you a couple of power suits, you can stop me from staying out too late and going off schedule…”
“Oh Tate, I couldn’t.” She stared at her scruffy nails and began to push her cuticles back on her right hand. We would have to get those nails fixed if she worked for me. They were jagged and uneven and looked like they’d been chewed. Then again, her anxiety was probably through the roof from having to live on the streets. If the worst she’d done was bite her nails, she’d gotten off lightly. So had her body.
“Oh but you could,” I said with a grin.
She switched to the cuticles on her left hand. “Why are you so determined to help me?”
“Why are you so determined not to accept any help?” I countered.
“I guess I always assume the other person will want something from me if something seems too good to be true,” she said. Her cuticles pushed back, she began to pick at the underneath of her nails. Ew. “Living on the street just reinforced that.”
“But I do want something from you. I want you to keep me on schedule,” I said. “I won’t lie: it isn’t easy. I’ve been kind of…not great at doing things lately. Having someone give me a nudge would really help.”
She lifted her hand to start biting her nails. Instinctively, I swatted it away. Nope. Too gross for me.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
“I’m sorry too. It’s not up to me if you bite your nails. My mom just drilled it into me that it’s a bad habit,” I said.
“She’s right,” Madeline agreed, “but I can’t help it.”
“Well, we can get you some gels. You’ll struggle to bite them off.”
“Won’t I have to avoid doing anything that would damage them?” she asked, sitting on her hands.
I suppressed a laugh. “Gel nails? They’re pretty indestructible.”
“So what will I have to do, then?”
I thought for a moment. I hadn’t put that much thought into it. “Checking my emails, answering business calls, dealing with social media, managing my schedule, picking up my dry cleaning, walking the dog, stuff like that,” I said.
“Oh. I could do that,” she said. “I worked as a secretary at my old job.” She lowered her head. “I miss it.”
“I’m sorry you had to leave it. I hope this will give you the opportunity to look forward instead of back,” I said.
Madeline nodded. “It does. How can I ever thank you?”
“Just say yes.”
42
Tate
I’m not here to be told what to do
I’m not here without a clue
I used to be a puppet in someone else’s story
But now I’m here to make history.
— “History,” Tate Gardener
I should’ve been excited on release day. On every other release day I’d stayed up until midnight to tweet to my followers and engage with them. This time, I’d scheduled in some tweets then gone to bed. And refused to get out of it the next morning.
Mike called me and left a voicemail, but I ignored it. Maria called me and left a voicemail. I ignored her, too. I put my phone on to Do Not Disturb and rolled back over in bed, Moxie curled up beside me.
By lunchtime I figured I should check my phone so that people didn’t show up at my door. I had more missed calls and a slew of texts too. I checked the one from Jack first: Congrats! xxx
Congrats? For what?
Instead of reading the rest of the texts I checked my voicemail. “Congrats on the number one,” said Maria. “Knew you could do it.”
“Eclipse” was number one already?
My phone went to Mike’s message automatically after Maria’s: “I know you weren’t sure about releasing this single, but the reception has been amazing. Everyone wants to interview you about your ‘change of direction.’ They’re saying it shows a new, deeper side to you as an artist. Call me back! And great work, by the way.”
I looked at Moxie. “You know, when they said it would change people’s perceptions of me, I didn’t expect them to be right. I mean, I hoped they would be, but people get so hyped up about things in this industry. Most of the time they don’t really mean it.”
The little dog stared at me blankly. Of course she did. She was a dog. She had no idea what I was saying.
I called Jack while I absentmindedly rubbed Moxie’s belly. “Hey,” he said in that sexy voice of his. “Welcome back to the real world.”
I scoffed. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.”
“But it’s begging for your attention. Have you seen, or are you still hibernating?”
“I’ve seen, but I’m still hibernating,” I said. “I thought, I dunno, I’d get punished somehow and everyone would hate the song.”
“That’s not how it works,” he said.
“So I see,” I said. “Mike said lots of places want to interview me and they’re calling it a ‘change of direction’ for me.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t expect it.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
“Because I’ll do anything to make my career a success, you know that. In showbiz, people will say anything to get you hyped up, even right before they reject you. Most of the time it doesn’t mean anything,” I said.
“Except this time,” said Jack.
“Yeah, this time,” I said.
“But you’re still regretting the decision?”
“I don’t even know anymore. How will I ever know if I made the right choice?”
“You won’t,” said Jack. “You just have to find a way to deal with the consequences in a way that works for your conscience.”
*
Against my better judgment, I called Trinity. It was her song. I wanted to celebrate it with her. I told myself that if she didn’t pick up this time, it really was over between us. I’d been hanging onto one last shred of hope that she might forgive me. I didn’t expect her to pick up, but a part of me really wanted her to. And by some miracle, she did.
“What?” she spat down the receiver.
“You…you answered,” I said, sitting upright in bed.
“Yes? Why did you even call? You got what you wanted. Everyone is finally taking you seriously and seeing you as more than just a child star.”
“But I didn’t want to lose you in the process,” I said.
“Didn’t you?” she said.
“Of course not!”
“Then why didn’t you ask how I felt before making your decision?”
I hesitated. I hadn’t asked her because I’d known what she would say.
“Maybe if you’d bothered to ask me, we wouldn’t have ended up here,” she said.
“Wouldn’t we? You would’ve said no,” I said.
“Who knows what I would’ve said? You never gave me the chance. Then you took what was important from me anyway.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. It sounded pathetic, but I had to say it.
“The way you made that decision showed who you really are. You’ll do anything to get the career you want. The rest of us don’t mean anything to you.”
“That’s not true!”
“Isn’t it?” said Trinity. “Then why did you talk to your manager but not even consider talking to me?”
I kicked the duvet off me. I was starting to feel really hot all of a sudden. “He’s my manager. It’s his job to advise me on this stuff.”
“And he told you to choose your career, didn’t he?”
I didn’t answer. She already knew.
“Of course he did. He makes money every time you sell something. That doesn’t explain why you didn’t talk to me about a problem that directly involved me.”
What could I say to get her to see why I’d made my decision? There had to be something.
“You know what? I don’t even care anymore. We’re done.”
I started to argue, but she hung up on me. She wasn’t even willing to fight me anymore. That was just…it. After over a decade, our friendship really was over.
43
Tate
The world won’t let me sin
So I’m careful who I let in
Worried about what they’ll see
If they’ll catch a glimpse of the real me.
— “Sinner,” Tate Gardener
“Oh Tate, this is too much. I couldn’t possibly accept this,” said Maddy.
“Nonsense,” I said. “Most celebrities have their staff live in their place with them, but honestly I think that’s weird. I like my space and figured you’d be used to that too. So I rented this place for you.”
It was in a building a couple of doors down from mine. That meant that if I needed her urgently she could be there, but likewise if one of us needed space, we could have that, too.
Maddy ran her fingers along the kitchen’s wooden countertop. “I’ve never seen such a lovely kitchen before.”
“Do you cook?” I asked.
“Not really,” she admitted, looking sad. “But I’ve always wanted to learn. Maybe now I can?” She looked to me as if for approval.
“There are plenty of cooking schools in New York. You should see if any interest you.”
She smiled. “I used to cook for my husband, but he never wanted to eat anything interesting. He always wanted the same thing. It was so boring.”
I wrinkled my nose. “It sounds like it. But now you don’t have to worry about him.”
She frowned.
“What is it?”
“I just miss my family. I can’t tell them anything or see them because I’m worried he’ll find out where I am.” Her back stiffened. “He won’t see me out with you, will he?”
“We can keep you away from the cameras as much as possible. I can’t promise it completely, but he’ll never get through my security.”
“Guns get through security.”
“Does he value his life?”
“Don’t most men with egos the size of Jupiter?”
“Yes, they do,” I said. “Which is precisely why he wouldn’t come near any of my security. Or me.”
I added with a smirk.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“One of my favorite hobbies is going to the shooting range. And I haven’t missed a target in years.”
Maddy met my eye, a curious look on her face. “Is that your phone ringing?” she asked, before we could say anything else about my favorite hobby.
I hadn’t even heard it, but she was right. It was on vibrate in my bag. I reached and answered it right before it cut out. It was Maria. “Can you come down? Mike and I need to talk to you.”
“When?”
“Now.”
*
Maria never called last-minute meetings. She was a stickler for following a schedule. For her to have called me in so last minute, it had to be bad.
I almost asked my mom to go with me, but I knew how that would look—like I needed to be babied. And my mom would go down the “I told you so” route. So instead, I took Moxie. It was my plan to have her with me most of the time anyway, so taking her to a meeting would be good practice for her. It would also give me an excuse to leave if I needed one.
I hopped into a taxi and made my way there, then Moxie and I sat waiting outside Maria’s office while she talked to Mike about something.
One of the walls was glass, so I could see straight in. She had a poker face on so I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and Mike had his back to me. Moxie sat on my lap, curled into a ball. I stroked her tiny frame, glad that someone in that meeting room would be on my side.
Mike emerged from the room and gestured for me to go inside. “Oh. You brought the dog,” he said. He didn’t sound impressed. Oh well.
“Yes,” I said. Moxie in my arms, I stood up and went into the office. Moxie and I sat in one of the chairs opposite Maria. Mike sat beside me. What an awkward little triangle.
“Do you know why you’re here?” asked Maria, sounding like a judge in court.
Hollywood Parents Page 25
