Sweet Little Lies

by Lauren Conrad

  “I’m, uh, crashing with a friend. I’m looking at apartments, though.”

  “Well, you could always move in with Scar,” Jane said sarcastically, although she knew that the joke wasn’t very funny. “She’s probably looking for a roommate.”

  Braden frowned. “You and Scarlett aren’t living together anymore?”

  Jane told him an abbreviated version of the story, still a little shocked that this was her life she was talking about. “So I moved in with Madison,” she finished. “Her parents own this huge condo. Oh, and we’re getting a puppy!”

  “No way. Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I can’t wait. She took me to a couple of breeders last weekend to look at these cute little poodle mixes. But I told her we should go to the shelter and adopt a dog from there. They’re the ones who really need homes, right?”

  “No, I mean…” Braden hesitated. “Yes about getting a dog from the shelter, but I mean, Scarlett thinks Madison was responsible for the pictures? That’s kinda random.”

  “It’s crazy, right? There’s no way Madison would ever do anything like that. She thinks Scar did it, which is obviously not true, either. It was just some horrible paparazzo. I hate them,” Jane said emphatically.

  “I’m with you there.”

  They continued talking for a while, catching up on their lives and the show and his upcoming auditions. Jane noticed that neither one of them brought up the pictures again, or him and Jesse, or her and Jesse…or, for that matter, her and Braden. They were finally talking, which was good, but were they really saying anything to each other?

  A little after one o’clock, Braden got the check so Jane could rush back for a 1:30 meeting at the office. Fiona had many pet peeves, one of which was lateness. Jane had been on the boss lady’s good side lately, and she wanted it to stay that way.

  “Soooo,” Braden said as he walked her to the elevator. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to tell Jesse that you and I had lunch.”

  Oh, so we are gonna talk about Jesse, Jane thought. She hesitated before replying. She had given this a lot of thought, and there were no easy answers. On the one hand, judging from what had happened last night, Jesse might react badly. On the other hand, she didn’t want him to find out from anyone else. Then he would definitely react badly.

  “No, I have to tell him,” she said after a moment, trying to sound more decisive than she felt. Bottom line was, she didn’t know how or what she was going to tell him, but she didn’t want to keep any secrets from Jesse. “You okay with that?”

  “Yeah, of course. I’m not worried about me, Jane.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I promise.” She gently bumped into him.

  “Of course you will.” He smiled at her wistfully. “So are we still friends, or what?”

  Jane stopped at the elevator doors, fumbling through her purse for her keys. She tilted her head up to look at him. “What do you think?”

  “Does that mean yes?”

  “Yes!”

  “Good.”

  “We’d better go down separately,” Jane suggested. “There are a few photographers outside of valet.”

  “Sure.”

  Braden reached down and hugged her. Jane started to pull away—she wasn’t sure if it was okay to hug him, after everything that had happened between them—then changed her mind and hugged him back. It was…nice. His arms felt strong and warm around her body, and she had forgotten how much she loved the wonderful, beachy smell of his skin. She closed her eyes, and for a moment she let herself remember that night, how he had kissed her and she had kissed him and they hadn’t been able to stop.

  What would have happened if those pictures hadn’t been published? Or if she and Jesse hadn’t gotten back together? Would she and Braden be together instead? Was he the one she was meant to be with, after all? Not Caleb, not Jesse, but Braden?

  Then the moment passed, and Braden broke away from the hug. “Yeah, so, it was great seeing you,” he said, sounding flustered. “Take care, okay?”

  “You too,” she said, wishing she could’ve stayed in that moment a little longer.

  27

  HANGOVER

  “Okay, on the floor! Give me another set of planks!” Deb ordered Scarlett.

  Scarlett shot her personal trainer her best what did I ever do to you? look before getting down on the ground and into position. She hated this particular exercise. Actually she hated most exercise that took place inside of a gym. She just preferred to be a little more…imaginative with her workouts.

  Although she was especially unenthusiastic about her session with Deb today. She wasn’t in the mood for any form of physical activity. She wasn’t in the mood to do anything, except maybe crawl into bed and nurse her deadly hangover and feel really, really sorry for herself.

  It was Friday afternoon, and the gym was pleasantly uncrowded. Nearby, a couple of girls in maroon USC tees were working out on the gravity machines. Scarlett could just make out their conversation, which had something to do with a party they were hosting that night at their apartment, and whether or not some cute guy named Ethan, who was apparently “super-hot,” would show up. Roommates, obviously. Scarlett thought about Jane and felt a pang in her heart.

  “Hey, you’re cheating! Get that knee off the ground!” Deb reprimanded her.

  Scarlett glared at her again, then took a deep breath and did as instructed. Maybe one of Deb’s famously brutal workouts was exactly what she needed today. Maybe pain, sweat, and sheer physical exhaustion would make her forget about last night.

  “You’re halfway there! You can do this!” Deb shouted.

  As Scarlett struggled to complete her next rep, her thoughts drifted to last night at Teddy’s…or what she could recall of it, anyway, in the wake of so many tequila shots. She couldn’t decide what was worse: Madison being all besty-besty with Jane, or her own behavior. She had acted like an attention-starved slut when she left the bar with Matteo while Liam watched.

  Although she hadn’t hooked up with Matteo. Fortunately for her, she had come to her senses once they had hit the sidewalk, and she’d taken off in her own cab without even saying good-bye.

  But Liam didn’t know that. He was probably still under the impression that she’d gone home with the guy. It was probably the way Trevor would edit the scene, too, when the episode eventually aired.

  “Two and…one. Great job!” Deb shouted. The woman was always shouting. Usually, this helped motivate Scarlett. Today, it only made her head hurt even more than it already did.

  The USC girls were throwing a medicine ball back and forth now and talking animatedly about ex-boy-friends. Scarlett wished she had someone to talk about ex-boyfriends with. Not that she had a lot of those in her personal history. Unless you counted Liam. Could one call him an ex-boyfriend, since he had technically never been her boyfriend? He was definitely an ex-something, after her behavior last night. She hadn’t heard from him, and she didn’t expect to.

  “Sweetie, what’s up with you today?” Deb asked as she handed Scarlett a towel. She wasn’t shouting anymore; she sounded concerned. “Are you sick? You’re not yourself.”

  “Nothing, just had a bad night,” Scarlett replied. She sat up on the exercise mat and wiped her face.

  “Boy problems?” Deb asked with a knowing smile.

  “Well, I think I’m the problem.” Scarlett shrugged.

  “Aw. Listen, what are you doing tonight? A bunch of us are going out for margaritas. You wanna come? It’ll be fun.”

  Scarlett made a sour face. “Ew, don’t mention margaritas to me—or anything containing tequila, for that matter. Besides, you drink them? You seem like more of the organic-sea-kelp-smoothie type of girl.”

  Deb laughed. “Hey, you gotta have fun once in a while. As long as you work hard, to compensate. Speaking of which, let’s grab some tens and move on to chest flies.” She added, “We’re going to a bar called Velvet Margarita. It’s up the street from Big Wang’s. Co
me by if you’re not doing anything.”

  Big Wang’s. That was one of the first bars Scarlett and Jane had gone to when they moved to L.A. It was also where they met Braden.

  She couldn’t believe that was less than six months ago. Had so much really happened in such a short time?

  “Scarlett! Chest flies! Come on, come on, come on!” Deb ordered.

  Scarlett sighed and followed Deb over to the free-weight rack. Maybe she should go out with Deb and her friends tonight. It was better than sitting at home alone. Maybe it was time for her to start making some new friends.

  28

  LIAR

  Jane peered nervously out the glass doors of Katsuya. She counted five photographers outside. There had been only one earlier in the evening, when she and Jesse had arrived for dinner. Tonight of all nights, she didn’t want press. Not with Jesse in the kind of mood he was in.

  Of course, his mood was completely her fault.

  Obviously she should have listened to Braden.

  Jesse, who had lingered behind to speak to the maître d’, now swept past her and headed outside without stopping to reach for her hand or even to look at her. Flashbulbs popped brightly as he cut through the group of paparazzi toward his Range Rover, which the restaurant had (generously) offered to retrieve in advance so he and Jane wouldn’t have to wait awkwardly at the valet stand—a situation that would have been even more unpleasant than usual tonight.

  “Jesse, over here!”

  “Jesse, any comment on what happened at Teddy’s last night?”

  Jane could see Jesse’s shoulders stiffen with anger as he reached the car, thrust a crumpled bill at the attendant, and got inside. Did he plan on leaving without her? God, what a nightmare, Jane thought as she pushed open the glass doors and half walked, half ran toward the curb, keeping her eyes on the ground.

  More flashbulbs, more shouts.

  “Jane, did you know Braden was going to be at Teddy’s?”

  “Jane, are you and Jesse breaking up?”

  Jane tried to tune them out as she climbed into Jesse’s car and shut the door. She was grateful for the tinted windows, which insulated her from the crazy commotion outside.

  Although now she was alone with Jesse in the chilling silence inside. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

  Jesse started the engine and pulled onto Hollywood Boulevard, not saying a word. He didn’t even turn on the CD player, like he usually did. Jane rested her head against the window and stared out at the passing scene. It was Friday night, and everyone was out: sitting in bars, walking down the street, laughing, holding hands, kissing. They looked so happy.

  She glanced in Jesse’s direction. His profile was completely rigid, and his knuckles were white as he clenched the steering wheel. Why wasn’t he saying anything? She felt as though his silence were going to suffocate her.

  She couldn’t stand it anymore. “Look, I’m sorry. I just wanted to be honest with you,” she blurted out.

  Jesse shot her a look of disgust. “Yes, Jane, I know how important honesty is to you,” he said sarcastically.

  Jane winced. Clearly, telling him about lunch with Braden had stirred up some of his anger from the original incident. And clearly, this was how he dealt with it—by trying to make her feel just as bad as he did.

  As soon as she had opened her mouth at Katsuya and told Jesse about the lunch, explaining that Braden had wanted to apologize about the Alt party, she had regretted her decision. Not because Jesse had made a scene—in fact, it had been the opposite of a scene. He had simply stared at her and said nothing—and then flagged down the waiter to order a whiskey, and another a few minutes later, and another after that. Their spicy crab rolls and Kobe beef had gone untouched. She’d tried to explain, but after a few minutes it was clear he wasn’t willing to talk about it. The silence had been deafening.

  Five whiskeys later, he was driving them home. Jane should have insisted on driving instead, but she wasn’t about to bring it up in front of a group of photographers. And now she just didn’t have it in her to fight with him about it.

  Jesse reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and shook one into his mouth. Jane hadn’t seen him smoke in weeks. But she didn’t have it in her to fight with him about that, either. “Everybody thinks you’re so sweet and perfect,” he sneered as he turned onto La Brea, fumbling for the lighter. “It’s such bullshit.”

  “I’ve never claimed to be perfect, Jesse. I—”

  “No, you’re far from perfect, Jane. You’re a slut.”

  Jane gasped. She knew he was mad, but she couldn’t let him speak to her that way. “Jesse, I didn’t do anything but have lunch with him. I’m just trying to be honest with you.”

  “You didn’t do anything?” Jesse spat out. “I’m sorry, Jane. You go and cheat on me with my best friend. Then, after I forgive you, you go and hang out with him again. Don’t sell yourself short—I think you’ve done plenty.”

  Jane didn’t reply. She didn’t know what to say. There was no point in arguing with him when he was so drunk—and so furious with her.

  “What’s wrong, Jane? You know I’m right! You just can’t admit it!” Jesse was yelling now. “Admit it, Jane—you like him!”

  “No, I don’t.” Jane tried to keep her voice level. She tried to believe her own words.

  “Sure, you do. You slept with him,” Jesse insisted.

  “No, I didn’t!”

  “I know you did. Everyone who walked by a newsstand last month knows you did!”

  Jane sighed in frustration. “I didn’t sleep with him. You know I didn’t!”

  “All I know is that you’re a fucking liar!”

  He punched down on the accelerator, sending the car five miles over the speed limit. Then ten. Then fifteen. He seemed unconcerned about the other cars on La Brea as he swerved erratically into the left lane and then back again.

  “Jesse, watch where you’re going!” Jane cried out, reaching over to straighten the wheel in his hands. Why was he acting like this? He was even angrier than he had been after the fight with Braden at Teddy’s. He was mad then, yes, but he hadn’t taken it out on her. Instead he’d apologized for causing a scene and ruining her night. She’d really thought everything was on its way to being okay.

  He pushed her hand away, dropping his lit cigarette on the floor. “Get the hell away from me!”

  “Jesse, slow down!” Jane pleaded, instinctively gripping the sides of the leather seat. This was all her fault. She should definitely have listened to Braden.

  “Not until you admit you’re a liar!”

  Twenty-five miles over.

  Jane pressed her body against the back of her seat, now in a full state of panic. “Seriously, Jesse. Stop it!”

  “Admit you’re a liar!” Jesse demanded.

  Thirty miles over.

  Jane could feel her heart pounding in her chest. “Jesse, please!”

  “Say you’re a liar!”

  People honked their horns as Jesse began weaving aggressively between cars. “Jesse, please slow down. You’re scaring me!” Jane begged.

  “Say it! Say you’re a liar!” Jesse swerved, narrowly missing a sleek black BMW. The driver blared his horn at them.

  Jane began crying. “Jesse, please stop the car! Please! You’re gonna kill us!”

  “Say it!” Jesse roared. Through her haze of tears, Jane watched in terror as the Range Rover careened toward a line of cars that had stopped at an intersection. The blur of red taillights rushed at them.

  “Say it!”

  “I’m a liar! I’m a liar!” Jane sobbed. “Please just stop! I said it! I’m a liar!”

  The Range Rover screeched and careened sideways across two lanes, in the direction of the curb. Oh my God, he’s going off the road! Jane thought, horrified, squeezing her eyes shut and bracing for the crash.

  She felt the slam of brakes as the car came to a sudden halt. Then nothing. Slowly opening her eyes, she realized that Jesse had p
ulled onto a side street off La Brea.

  Jane raised her tear-streaked face to look at him—slowly, cautiously. His gaze was locked angrily on her.

  “Get out,” Jesse spat. “Get out of my car, liar.”

  Jane began shaking. She was terrified—even more terrified than when she thought he was going to crash.

  “Seriously, get the hell out of my car!”

  Without saying anything, Jane grabbed her purse and jumped out of the car. She had barely shut the door before he sped off, leaving her alone on the quiet street.

  She dropped onto the curb, unable to stop shaking. And just sat there, feeling completely numb. And it was silent again.

  Jane fumbled through her purse for her cell phone. She was still miles away from home and didn’t have any way of getting there. She instinctively began scrolling to Scarlett’s number…then stopped. She knew she couldn’t call her. She could call Madison—or maybe Gaby—but they already hated Jesse, and she didn’t want them to know he had just dropped her off on a street corner. She didn’t want anyone to know.

  Then she took a deep breath and reluctantly called the only person she knew would understand.

  Braden picked up after three rings. “Jane?” he said, sounding surprised. She must have come up on his caller ID.

  “Hey, Braden, I’m so sorry to bug you, but I didn’t know who else to call.” Jane tried to hide the fact that she was still crying.

  “Are you okay?” Braden asked quietly. Jane could hear voices in the background.

  “Umm…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bothering you. I—”

  “Jane, what’s wrong?” Braden said, more urgently.

  “I told Jesse that we had lunch today, and we got in a fight and he left me on the street.” Jane started crying harder. “He was yelling and driving so fast, and—”

  “Where are you? I’m coming right now.”

  Jane told him the intersection. She swiped at her face with the back of her hand.

  “Okay, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “Thank you, Braden.”

  “No problem. But…Jane?”