Sugar and Spice

by Lauren Conrad

  At that very moment, Jane spotted Alli coming down the tiki-torch-lit path, speaking into a walkie-talkie. “Sorry, Braden, but I’ve gotta run. I’ll call you later, okay?” Jane told him. “Alli!” she cried out, rushing over to her and giving her a quick hug. “I’m soooo glad to see you!”

  Alli looked totally confused. “You are?”

  “I am! You need me for something now, right?”

  “Uh, right. I’m supposed to take you and the other girls over to the terrace for the opening segment, and—”

  “Great! I’m ready!”

  “So who’s Braden?” Caleb said, once again standing right behind her. “Is that that guy I read about in the magazines? Didn’t you and he—”

  “I’ve gotta run, Caleb. I’ll see you later, okay?” Jane said. Then, before he could say another word, she turned to make her escape, trying not to trip on her black stiletto heels as she followed Alli down the path.

  But what was she escaping, exactly? Two guys whom she used to like? Who used to like her? Who maybe still liked her, by the way they were acting? Or did guys always act like this, all possessive and territorial and she’s-mine-I-saw-her-first?

  It was a very good thing she was not dating these days.

  Chapter 2

  Best Friends

  “Yeah, so Jane and I used to be best friends. It’s really sad,” Madison Parker explained to the umpteenth reporter.

  Madison dabbed at her eyes for good effect, being careful not to mar her five-hundred-dollar makeup job. She’d tried out a new stylist for the season premiere party tonight—some of the biggest names in Hollywood used him—and he hadn’t disappointed. On the other side of the pool, which was filled with fragrant white gardenias and floating candles, a group of girls held up a sign that said, WE LOVE YOU MADYSON!!!!!!! in hot pink. Learn to spell, morons, she thought, annoyed.

  The reporter from Gossip magazine—Tiffani?—nodded and scribbled in her tiny notebook. “So why do you think Jane moved out? And are we going to see that on tonight’s episode?”

  “Shhh, that’s not till next week,” Madison stage-whispered, pretending to be letting Tiffani in on the biggest secret ever, even though she had told the same thing to five other reporters earlier. “I’ll tell you why Jane moved out. Everyone knows that she hooked up with her boyfriend Jesse’s best friend, Braden, back in December, and that Jesse found out, right? Well, Jane got this insane idea that I told Jesse about it.”

  Tiffani looked puzzled. “But didn’t Jesse find out from our magazine when the pictures—”

  “All I know is, Jane blames me,” Madison cut in. “It’s crazy. I would never do anything like that to her. I loved her like a sister. I still do.”

  Tiffani nodded and scribbled some more.

  This is soooo easy, Madison thought.

  Things hadn’t looked very good for Madison last month, when Jane got hold of some emails proving that Madison had leaked those photos to Gossip. Any other girl might have given up, under the circumstances. But not Madison. She not only refused to confess or apologize to Jane . . . she decided to go on the offensive, talking to every reporter who would listen about her way-more-interesting version of events.

  Madison studied her new set of dark purple acrylic nails. The nails on her right hand spelled LOVE! with tiny rhinestones; the nails on her left spelled FAME! “And that’s not all Jane did,” she said to Tiffani. “Jesse forgave her for hooking up with Braden, and they got back together right after New Year’s, right? But Jane was still obsessed with Braden. She was hanging out with him and having secret meet-ups, and that’s why Jesse dumped her again. And now she’s not speaking to me, like it’s my fault she cheated on her boyfriend.”

  Tiffani whistled. “Wow, this is great stuff.”

  Madison smiled smugly. “I know.” She didn’t tell Tiffani that she’d left out a few important details, like the fact that Jane and Braden only had one “secret meet-up”—a very public lunch at Barney Greengrass—or that Jane told Jesse about it herself, the same night.

  Tiffani glanced up from her notepad. “Anything else?”

  “I think that’s all. You’ll be the first to know if something else comes up,” Madison lied. “Soooo. When’s this story going to run?”

  “Veronica told me to tell you she’s clearing space for this week’s edition. And if there’s a follow-up story, one of us may be calling you for quotes.”

  “Awesome.”

  Veronica Bliss, the editor in chief of Gossip, was really coming through for Madison lately. (Madison had spotted Veronica at the party earlier, having an intense-looking convo with Trevor. She had also spotted Veronica’s former assistant Diego—the rat who had dug up the incriminating emails against Madison—chatting up a publicist, presumably to get dish for his annoying new blog, D-Lish.) Veronica and Madison had had a long-standing arrangement: dirt on Jane in exchange for flattering pieces about Madison in the magazine. Madison had made that deal with Veronica last fall because she wasn’t enjoying anywhere near the fame she deserved. Back then, all anyone could talk about was Jane, Jane, Jane. Puke! Madison had been forced to help things along a bit by making sure the world knew what a pathetic mess their perfect, all-American princess really was.

  And it was working. Trevor had already talked to Madison about giving her more airtime this season, which must mean that he planned to give Jane less. Madison was all over the media, too. Not only Gossip but the other major tabloids were clamoring to interview her—about the show and her rift with Jane, sure, but also about her opinions on fashion, her love life (she was careful not to mention her current, very married boyfriend, Derek), and more. It was a huge change from a few months ago, when she could barely get editors and reporters to return her calls.

  As Tiffani wrote down some final notes, Madison fluffed her long, platinum blond hair and gazed out at her adoring fans. She assumed they were her fans, anyway; after all, Jane was old news, Scarlett was a complete freak, and Gaby was . . . well, she was about as interesting as last year’s diet fad.

  A tall girl wearing a sorry-looking boyfriend shirt over leggings came running up to her. “Oh, there you are!” she said, panting. “I’ve been looking all over for you. You need to get over to the terrace, like, ASAP.”

  “Who are you?” Madison snapped. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  “I’m Alli. From the show. We’re about to go live, and they need you and the other girls to do the opening segment.”

  “Oh!”

  Madison said a hasty good-bye to Tiffani and followed Alli in the direction of the terrace. She wished she could check herself in a mirror, although she knew they’d have stylists waiting to touch her up. Besides, what was she worried about? She looked amazing in her shimmering purple tank dress that hugged her perfect size-0 body. She felt amazing, too. Tonight was the start of a brand-new season: her season. She was on a roll, and nothing was going to stop her.

  When her cell buzzed as she hurried to the terrace, she pulled it out quickly and checked the screen. It was a text from a private number.

  Madison frowned. It couldn’t be from that person . . . could it? Biting back her anxiety, she clicked on the message.

  WHY R U IGNORING MY TEXTS? I TOLD U I WOULD GIVE U 30 DAYS TO COME UP WITH THE MONEY. WELL YOUR 30 DAYS ARE UP SO NOW IM HERE TO COLLECT IN PERSON. BTW PURPLE ISNT YOUR COLOR.

  Madison stopped in her tracks and gazed wildly around the crowd. Was the person here, tonight, watching her? How could that be? She scanned the sea of faces, but no one stood out. A Hollywood Now TV camera zoomed in on her, then swiveled away. A couple of girls took pictures of her with their cell phones, and another one yelled, “Ohmigod, will you autograph my shirt?” The girl’s red tee said TEAM MADISON across the front of it.

  Normally, Madison would have stopped to chat up such a devoted fan. But the text had thrown her. She’d been getting these messages for months now. At first whoever sent them hinted at knowing “who Madison really was,” and then actuall
y mailed Madison a school picture of herself from five years ago: when she was fifteen, and not so attractive, and not going by the name of Madison Parker.

  “Madison? We kinda need to rush here,” Alli called out to her.

  “Huh? Oh, right.” Madison took a Sharpie out of her silver clutch and scrawled her name quickly on the girl’s shirt. “Thanks for watching the show,” she said without taking her eyes off the crowd. But what was she looking for? She didn’t have a single clue about her blackmailer’s appearance, despite having hired a private detective to track the person down. Unfortunately, he had nothing yet.

  “Ohmigod, she wrote on my shirt!” the girl screamed to her friends.

  Madison tried to forget about the text as Alli led her to the terrace, where a couple of PopTV cameramen were setting up, and Dana and a director named Matt were barking orders at the sound and light guys. Half a dozen stylists were busily touching up Gaby, Scarlett, and . . . Jane. Ugh. As if Madison didn’t have enough to worry about right now. Jane, who looked almost fat in her ruffly black dress (well, maybe “fat” was an exaggeration), barely glanced her way. Whatever, bitch, Madison thought, narrowing her eyes. Still, it was getting ridiculous, their not talking to each other. She was going to have to do something about that.

  “Madison, there you are.” Out of nowhere, Trevor Lord sauntered up to her, looking suave and sophisticated as always in a tailored black suit and white shirt, no tie. “Did Dana fill you in already?”

  Madison shook her head. “About what?”

  Trevor put a hand on her elbow. “We need you four girls to do the intro segment together, then maybe one or two more after that. We were originally going to have it be Jane and Scarlett on the terrace, then cut away to you and Gaby at the pool . . . but, well, change of plans.” He lowered his voice and added, “Sorry, they sprung this on me. Is it going to be okay with the two of you up there together?”

  “I’m not going to be the problem,” Madison huffed.

  “Good. I need you to behave, okay? Just read what’s on the teleprompter. Remember, this is live.”

  “You know I always do whatever you say, Trevor.” Madison smiled sweetly at him.

  Trevor smiled back. “Yes, I know. In fact, I have something I want to discuss with you. A new idea for this season. It’ll mean a lot more work for you, though.”

  “More work? You mean, like my own story line?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Trevor, I love you!” Madison had to keep herself from throwing her arms around him and jumping up and down with joy. “So what is it? Am I going to have a new boyfriend or a new job or—”

  “I’ll fill you in after this segment. Now go get miked. We’re live in five.”

  Five minutes later, Madison found herself in front of the PopTV cameras, sandwiched between Jane and Gaby, with Scarlett on the other side of Jane. She blinked into the bright, hot glare of the lights and tried to focus on the task at hand—but it wasn’t easy. All she could think about was what Trevor had said to her. Her own story line! It was a dream come true.

  Then everything began happening at once: Matt, the director, gave the five-second countdown . . . and the crowd began to cheer . . . and Jane turned away from the cameras and the teleprompter and toward Madison. “Hey, I think we’re on the air!” she recited, fake-smiling.

  Madison fake-smiled back. Nauseating. “I think you’re right!”

  Jane faced forward again. “Welcome to the L.A. Candy Season Two premiere party, everybody!” she said, stage-clapping. (Cue: more crowd cheers.)

  “I thought it was Season Three,” Gaby said, squinting at the teleprompter. (Cue: crowd laughter.)

  “Oh, Gaby!” Scarlett said, rolling her eyes. (Cue: more crowd laughter.)

  God, who writes this stuff? Madison wondered drily. It’s soooo cheesy.

  “We have lots of surprises lined up for you tonight,” Jane said.

  Madison started to read her next line, then did a double-take at the teleprompter. Were they seriously asking her to say that? “Yeah, lots of surprises,” she recited. “Like what’s going to happen this season with me and my best friend Jane.” The teleprompter then instructed her to “bump lightly into Jane,” so she did. She could feel Jane’s body stiffen.

  “You mean me and my best friend Jane,” Scar read, bumping into Jane from the other side.

  “They sprung this on me,” my ass, Madison thought irritably.

  “We have Aja here with us tonight to sing her brand-new hit single, ‘I Need You Now,’” Jane said, pretending to ignore both girls. Cheers, applause.

  Gaby raised her hand. “I’m gonna sing, too!”

  Madison, Jane, and Scarlett turned to Gaby. “You’re gonna sing?” Scarlett asked, pretending to be shocked.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna channel my inner Aja,” Gaby said. But she misread the teleprompter, pronouncing the word “channel” like “Chanel,” the fashion designer. The crowd laughed, not on cue.

  “Uh, Gaby . . . you mean channel?” Scarlett corrected her, improvising.

  Jane fake-smiled again. “Stay tuned, because after the commercial break, we’ll be back to talk about—”

  “Who hooks up with who in Season Two,” Madison finished, stage-winking.

  “Really? Who do I hook up with?” Gaby said eagerly. Cheers, laughter, applause.

  “And . . . cut.” Matt, the director, made a motion with his hands. “Great job, girls. Stand by for the next segment, okay? We’re moving over to the statue garden. You can touch up now if you’d like.”

  The four girls dispersed into small clusters of stylists and clouds of hair spray. Madison scanned the crowd as one of the stylists applied powder to her face. She still felt uneasy thinking that someone might be watching her and having no idea who it was.

  She noticed Trevor standing nearby, talking to Dana and pointing to something on a computer monitor. Madison caught his eye, and he sauntered over to her.

  “Good work,” he complimented her.

  Madison waved the stylist away and tucked her arm through Trevor’s. “Can we talk about my big story line now?” she said in a low, eager voice.

  Trevor nodded and signaled for her to click off her microphone. “Walk with me, and I’ll fill you in. We’re looking to start shooting these new scenes the day after tomorrow. . . .”

  Madison put the blackmailer out of her mind—for now—and listened intently to Trevor’s pitch.

  Chapter 3

  Second Chances . . . Second Thoughts

  Scarlett kicked off her very uncomfortable, very expensive—not that she had to pay for them—strappy gold sandals and leaned back on the couch. The series premiere, which she’d TiVo’d because she’d missed the private PopTV screening earlier, flashed across her TV screen: the opening credits, with Jane at her event-planning job . . . then Madison shopping . . . Scarlett walking through the USC campus . . . Gaby at the gym . . . then all four girls dancing at a club, goofing around, and laughing. The producers had been forced to dig up some unused footage from early last season, when they could all stand to be in the same room together.

  “I hate these shoes,” she complained to Liam Ferguson, her boyfriend (although she was still getting used to thinking of him that way, since she’d never really had a boyfriend before).

  “Really? You look hot in them.” Liam leaned over to kiss her neck, nearly spilling a bowl of popcorn in the process.

  Scarlett blushed. Liam was just about the only person in the world who could make her blush. “Thanks. Soooo. I missed you at the party tonight.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Liam said sincerely. “Was it fun?”

  “I guess? They rented some insane house on Mulholland Drive for it. Mostly, it was a lot of talking to fans and posing for cameras and telling reporters the same things over and over again. ‘Are you and Jane going to make up?’ ‘You’ll have to watch and see!’ ‘Do you think Jane and Jesse will get back together?’ ‘You’ll have to watch and see!’ ‘Will you and M
adison ever get along?’ ‘You’ll have to watch and see!’” Scarlett laughed. “So you didn’t miss a whole lot.”

  Liam laughed, too. “Apparently not.”

  They cuddled closer and lapsed into silence as the episode, called “Second Chances . . . Second Thoughts,” began. In the opening scene, Jane and Jesse were back together, but things were clearly tense between them as he griped about having to go to yet another one of her “events.” In the scene after that, at a spa, Madison and Gaby discussed Jane and Jesse’s relationship, with Madison remarking that even though they were back together, Jane was still hung up on “the guy she cheated on Jesse with.” Everyone who read a tabloid or had access to the internet knew that “the guy” was Braden James, although he couldn’t be named on the show since he refused to be on the show. Madison also informed Gaby that Jane unfairly blamed her, Madison, for Jesse finding out about “the guy” in the first place. Huh? That made no sense whatsoever. And when did this spa convo even take place? Gaby would have told Scarlett about it—wouldn’t she?

  Of course, Scarlett knew there would be a disconnect between this episode and the girls’ “real lives.” A lot of the early Season 2 footage had been shot weeks or months ago, then edited by Trevor to create a narrative flow. The Season 1 finale, which aired in January, had ended with a teaser about whether Jane and Jesse would get back together or not. In the meantime, Jane and Jesse had already gotten back together, then broken up again. Jane hadn’t confirmed their split with the press because it hadn’t “happened” on Season 2 yet. Similarly, Jane had already moved out of Madison’s apartment and back in with Scarlett. Jane wasn’t allowed to talk about that to the press, either—not until the episode aired.

  Not that any of this was a secret. Everyone in the world seemed to know what was going on in their lives already, thanks to paparazzi and tabloids.

  Liam curled his hand around Scarlett’s, and she rested her head on his shoulder. On the screen, Jane was having an argument with Madison about Jane’s new dog, Tucker, and how he had chewed through another pair of Madison’s prized Manolos.