“Oh!”
Paolo smiled at her. He had the cutest smile. “Hey, this may be a little forward, but…could I call you sometime? Maybe we could go out for coffee or something? I just moved here from San Francisco, and I don’t know too many people in town.”
Jane was taken aback by his forwardness. They had met all of sixty seconds ago. Still, he did kinda look like a young Brad Pitt. Besides, when was the last time she’d been on a date? Braden didn’t count. She had met him for drinks again at Cabo Cantina, over the weekend, to celebrate her being on the show and moving into a new apartment. It had been her idea. So that wasn’t a date. It never was with him. “Sure,” she said.
“Great!”
Jane blinked. Oh, yeah. The cameras were still rolling. Paolo was being filmed. But he didn’t seem to be fazed by it.
Did that mean he had walked into her office knowing there would be cameras? Had Dana talked to him already and gotten him to sign the release papers? Had she told him to ask her out? Or did he just happen to be there for a meeting, like he said?
Just then, Fiona’s door opened and Damien, an intern, shuffled out and shamefully dropped his head.
“I’ll grab your number on the way out,” Paolo said before he disappeared into Fiona’s office.
“Okay.”
Despite just meeting him, Jane couldn’t help but be excited. She looked past the camera in the hallway and spotted Dana. Jane grinned and mouthed, “He’s so cute!” Dana nodded in agreement and gave her a thumbs-up. Jane noticed a release form in Dana’s hand. Did that mean Paolo had been released? Did that mean it had been a setup? Jane smiled to herself as she realized she didn’t care. She was already thinking about what to wear on what might turn out to be her very first on-camera date…her first date, period, since Caleb. Okay, so Paolo wasn’t Braden. So what? It was nice to have a guy interested in her. It had been a long time. Too long.
18
GIRLS’ DAY
Scarlett stood outside Kate Somerville. The spa was located on a small, shaded street that broke off of Melrose, amid plush trees, rows of boutiques, and one-man valets. She glanced at her phone. It was a few minutes past ten. Except for the camera crew, she was the first to arrive. Apparently no one believed in punctuality anymore.
She would have driven over with Jane, but her friend had to run an errand for Fiona Chen first. Early on a Saturday morning, no less. Four days into Jane’s big-deal promotion from intern to assistant, and she was already busier than ever. Jane had worked until almost midnight on Wednesday and Thursday, and she had canceled a Friday-night movie date, just the two of them. Instead she’d had to babysit a young up-and-coming actress at an event Fiona was throwing for a children’s foundation. (In Hollywood, putting on Manolos and stopping by for a glass of champagne apparently said, “I care.”) In any case, it seemed like she and Jane hadn’t had much together time since they’d started filming L.A. Candy. Scarlett was convinced that the show was somehow responsible for Jane’s promotion and new, crazy-busy hours. It sounded dumb and probably selfish, but she missed their regular old boring lives, before PopTV.
Speaking of Jane…she came rushing up, her long blond hair flying all over the place. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to find parking for, like, twenty minutes.” She sounded out of breath. “Where is everybody?”
“No one’s here yet.” Scarlett shrugged.
“Oh, well, let’s go in. I’m sure they’ll be here in a few minutes.”
The front door opened onto the bottom of a winding staircase. They climbed the black carpeted stairs, admiring the long crystal chandelier above. When they reached the top of the stairs, they found themselves in a spacious room, where two women at a large white receptionist’s desk checked them in. A couple of cameras were already set up inside. One of the guys proceeded to mike the two girls.
Scarlett had to admit that the place was beautiful, all vintage ivory wallpaper and polished oak floors. In the center of the room, a circular glass table displayed a single white orchid and an artfully fanned spread of Vanity Fair, Harper’s Bazaar, and Vogue magazines. Tall silver vases, with bunches of pink hydrangeas spilling out of them, stood on each side of a square fireplace covered with small opal tiles and filled with shiny black stones. The remaining walls were mirrored, with shelves of boxed products in teal, lavender, and periwinkle packaging. Other than some soft music, it was silent.
Beautiful or not, Scarlett didn’t want to be there. She wasn’t a spa type of girl. And she didn’t feel like wasting a few hours—actually, the whole day and night—hanging out with Madison and Gaby, whom she hardly knew and didn’t particularly want to get to know. She was seriously tempted to persuade Jane to bail and spend the day at the beach instead. But she knew Jane would probably stare at her in horror and point to the cameras and shake her head, like, “Are you insane, Scar? They’re already here!” Jane was hyper-obedient when it came to doing whatever the producers or directors or other crew members told her to do. Scar was just the opposite. It fit with their respective personalities. Still, it made her kind of sad and nostalgic for the days when it was just her and Jane. Before Trevor, Dana, Wendell, Madison, Gaby, and the rest of them had ruined everything.
But you wanted to be on this stupid show, Scarlett reminded herself.
Jane dropped onto one of the plush couches, seemingly oblivious to Scarlett’s mixed feelings about being there. Sighing, Scarlett followed suit. She saw one of the cameras zooming in on her, so she reached for a Vanity Fair and began flipping pages. That was the sort of thing one did in the reception area of a spa, right? A moment later, she heard the front door open and chatter drifting up the stairwell. She turned to the doorway to see Madison and Gaby coming around the corner.
“Hey, ladies!” Madison’s voice erupted into the quiet room. Gaby trailed in behind her, waving. Because of Gaby’s RSVP email to Madison, Scarlett had expected her to be carrying a teacup poodle or something. But she was dogless today.
As a soundman miked them, Madison smiled at one of the receptionists, who greeted her by name. “Let Ana know I’m here,” Madison instructed her, then quickly turned back to the girls. Scarlett had the same impression of her that she’d had on Monday night at Les Deux. She looked so…fake. Like there wasn’t a single real thing about her. Why had Trevor cast her for this show, anyway? And as for Gaby…well, the woman needed cue cards just to help her process her next thought.
“Hey, guys!” Jane cried out. She sounded excited to see them. Scarlett didn’t say anything.
Scarlett felt Jane elbow her ever so subtly. “Be polite!” Jane pleaded in her ear.
God! When had Jane turned into Miss Manners? Scarlett gave Madison and Gaby a quick wave, barely glancing up from her magazine.
“Sooo.” Gaby sunk onto the couch next to Jane. “What are you getting done?”
“I played it safe. Facial.” Jane shrugged.
“Oh, they’re really good here!” Gaby exclaimed.
“What about you?” Jane asked.
“I’m just getting a Lipocell treatment,” Gaby replied.
Jane cocked her head. “What’s that?”
“It’s where they—”
“She’s getting the cellulite removed from her ass,” Madison interrupted, chuckling.
Scarlett looked up just in time to see Gaby’s smile fade a little.
“Oh, well, sign me up for that one!” Jane joked.
Scarlett leaned back into the comfy couch. Yup. Gaby was definitely a flake. And Madison was definitely a fake. A fake with a mean streak to boot. Seriously, why would she pick on Gaby? It was like kicking a dumb puppy that was trying to follow you home.
“So…Madison? What do you do, anyway?” Scarlett asked her. She was curious about what kind of job a “socialite” like Madison might have. If she even had a job. Or did she go to school? She could totally see her fitting in perfectly with Cammy and her Pi Delta friends at U.S.C.
Madison grinned. “Lots of stuff. I’m kind of
between jobs right now. I tried PR, but it wasn’t really me. I tried retail, too. And I worked as an intern at a literary agent’s office. But it was so boring.”
“How old are you?” Scarlett said, not caring that she sounded bitchy. “Seems like you’ve been around the job block.”
“I’m only twenty,” Madison said, either unaware of Scarlett’s bitchiness or choosing to ignore it. “I might try college next. Aren’t you at U.C.L.A.? How do you like it?”
“U.S.C. Jury’s still out.”
“What jury?” Gaby piped up.
“So what are you getting done, Scarlett?” Madison said, changing the subject.
Scarlett turned her attention back to her article: “Inside the Private World of Anna Payne.” Oh, yeah, that bitch. Still, it was more interesting than talking to this bitch. “Laser hair removal,” she replied, pretending to yawn.
There was a silence. Scarlett glanced up just in time to see Madison’s and Gaby’s faces simultaneously twisting into the same horrified expression. Gaby let out a little “Ouch!”
“What? I was reading about it online. It’s supposed to be a ‘noninvasive’ and ‘comfortable’ procedure. Besides, I hate waxing,” Scarlett explained, feeling defensive, then frustrated for feeling defensive.
The two girls exchanged knowing glances.
“What are you getting lasered, sweetie?” Madison asked, concern in her voice.
“Bikini.”
Madison stared at her for a moment, and then reached into the quilted Chanel clutch next to her. She pulled out a prescription bottle and spilled one long white pill into her palm. She handed it to Scarlett.
“What is it?” Scarlett asked her.
“Just take it. You’ll thank me later.”
“Yes, definitely!” Gaby agreed.
Scarlett peered suspiciously at Madison. She wasn’t too high on Scarlett’s trust list. But Madison’s reaction to the laser was the first real emotion Scarlett had seen register on her face. Scarlett opened her mouth, tossed in the pill, and swallowed.
“So! What are we doing after our beauty treatments?” Jane asked Madison. Scarlett made a face. Why did her best friend have to sound so positive?
“Oh, I made fun plans for us.” Madison smiled mysteriously.
Great, Scarlett thought bitterly. Wonder which will be more painful, the laser or a night out with these two.
“Who wants more champagne?” Madison sang out. “Don’t be shy, ladies!”
Scarlett glanced up from her spot on Madison’s luxurious leather couch, which felt like butter against her skin. She was lying down with her head on some guy’s lap. Through the haze of champagne, martinis, and tequila shots, she was vaguely aware of Madison standing on top of her Italian marble coffee table, waving a gold champagne bottle in the air.
Scarlett tried to sit up, willing her drunken brain fog to dissipate. Nearby, she saw that Jane was perched on a boy’s lap, giggling, while he played with her hair. Across the room, Gaby was dancing with three guys to an AC/DC song. She was wearing an oversized man’s white button-down shirt open over her black sequined dress. Just behind her, two cameramen from L.A. Candy were there, filming everything. Scarlett wasn’t positive, but she thought they were the same cameramen that had been with them all day, starting at the spa.
What time is it? Scarlett wondered groggily, sitting up a little more. She remembered Madison saying something about the penthouse apartment belonging to her parents. What had Dana said about them? That they were fifth-generation Parkers from somewhere on the East Coast who owned fancy cribs like this all over the world, or something like that? Not that Scarlett was impressed. Like its occupant, the place looked fake, unnatural—as though the decor had been copied straight out of an interior design magazine.
The girls had been out all night and Madison had insisted they all go back to her place, including the handful of guys they had collected throughout the night.
“Where do you live?” the guy cradling Scarlett’s head asked her.
“What?” Scarlett murmured.
“Where…do…you…live?” the guy repeated, kissing her forehead.
“She lives with me!” Jane spoke up. She stumbled a little over her words. “Scar and I are roommates!”
“Let’s move the party there,” said Jane’s guy, stroking her hair.
“Why? Don’t leave! We’re having fun!” Madison cut in. “Besides, I have spare bedrooms.”
Scarlett staggered to her feet. She was drunk, but she wasn’t so drunk that she wanted to get even more wasted and hook up with some random guy for the L.A. Candy cameras to see. She wouldn’t let that happen to Jane, either. “Come on,” she groaned as she shoved away from the guy trying to kiss her. Where were her shoes? “Janie. Come on. We should go.”
“Oh, don’t go!” Madison cried out. She twirled on the coffee table, balancing a drink in one hand and the champagne bottle in the other.
“Madison, this music sucks. Don’t you have any eighties?” Gaby demanded.
“This is eighties, moron. Gaby’s officially cut off!” Madison laughed hysterically.
Blurry. Everything was blurry. Scarlett spotted her shoes under the coffee table and clasped Jane’s hand. Scarlett’s guy and Jane’s guy trailed behind them, one still holding a bottle of vodka. There were good-byes and thank-yous between the girls as Scarlett dragged Jane out the door and toward the elevator. Scarlett pressed the Down button and steadied Jane as the doors opened. She stepped into the elevator and watched as the two guys began to follow them. One of the cameramen brought up the rear, filming.
“You boys going home?” Scarlett stopped them before they walked in.
“No, your friend said we could come back with you,” one said, pointing at Jane, who was resting her head on Scarlett’s shoulder.
“Oh. Okay, then. Good night.” Scarlett smiled at them as the door closed in their faces.
“What the…”
She could hear one of them yell as the elevator began to drop. Good-bye, losers. Good-bye, camera. She placed her hand on top of Jane’s head and brushed away the hair that had fallen into her face. “Come on, Janie. Let’s go home.”
“Hmmm? Why’re we going home, Scar? We were having fun.” Jane’s voice sounded slurred.
“Yeah, but now it’s time for bed.”
“Yes, Mom.”
When they got outside, Scarlett sucked in a lungful of the cool autumn air, fortifying herself. It wasn’t easy to make an escape, but she was glad to get away from it all. She began looking up and down the noisy, neon-lit street for a cab. She and Jane would have to come back for their cars tomorrow. Neither of them was in any shape to drive. In fact, Jane wasn’t in any shape to stand.
“Can we go home now?” Jane murmured, slumping against Scarlett.
Scarlett draped an arm over her friend’s shoulders and held on tight.
“Yes, Jane, we’re going home now.”
19
WHEN IS THIS EPISODE GOING TO BE ON TV?
Jane pushed her pasta with truffles around with a fork. She didn’t have much of an appetite. Yesterday’s marathon girls’ day out—which had turned into a girls’ night out, which had turned into a girls’ and guys’ night out—had left her feeling a little drained. But she knew she should at least make an effort. She was at Bella with Paolo, the hot photographer she had met at work.
And a TV crew.
That meant three camera guys, one director of photography, two producers, five production assistants, one soundman, one lighting person, one guy helping out with electrical issues, and a writer who was noting everything they said on camera. Intimate.
It turned out that Paolo had indeed signed a release and also agreed to have their first date filmed. So the cameras were rolling on the two of them sharing a candlelit dinner. She was pretty sure she looked like a mess after the night she’d had.
Paolo didn’t seem to notice. Which was a relief. But how could he not notice? He was smiling at her expectantly. �
��So? Do you like it?” He pointed to the pasta dish he’d recommended to her.
Jane took a bite. It tasted like…vodka… like everything else she had tried to eat that day. “Love it,” she lied, forcing a smile.
“Great! If you’re still hungry after this, we should order dessert.”
“Mmmm.” Jane’s stomach turned. Why had she let Madison talk her into all those martinis? And champagne? She felt awful. Her head throbbed, and she had had the shakes all day. She had contemplated canceling the date, but Dana had told her that they had already paid for their filming permit and that it was too late to reschedule.
Paolo was apparently a big foodie. He was going on about the dishes he had grown up eating (his father was Italian, and his mother was French), and about how he had almost gone to cooking school but had decided to become a photographer instead.
Jane listened, or attempted to listen, trying to remember why she had agreed to go out with him. He was definitely cute. And he seemed nice enough. But they had zero in common. Although how could she have guessed that after only a few minutes of talking to him? She noticed he liked to talk about himself. Normally it would have bothered her, but it was kind of a blessing tonight. She was hardly capable of witty date banter right now. She was more focused on trying to make the room stop spinning.
It was sad, really, because no matter how great this guy might be, he didn’t stand a chance. And not just because she felt awful. If she was being honest with herself, she had to admit there had been no real spark when they met, and even now, the conversation was polite. He was cute, sure, and getting asked out by a cute guy is always nice, but talking to him felt so forced. It wasn’t Paolo’s fault, though. The truth was, Jane would have preferred to spend any night on a non-date with Braden than a real date with a cute guy she didn’t really care about.
Jane’s cell buzzed. Now that she knew texted directions were a part of her “reality,” she’d put her phone on the table for easy access. She glanced at the screen; yep, it was from Dana. It said: YOU LOOK MISERABLE. POOR GUY. COULD YOU ACT A LITTLE MORE DATEY?
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