She texted Braden first. HEY, I NEED SOME TIME 2 THINK, she composed carefully. PLEASE WAIT FOR ME 2 CALL U, OKAY? DON’T CALL ME. IF U CARE ABOUT ME, PLEASE RESPECT THAT. THIS IS ALL SO COMPLICATED. LOVE, JANE.
Before hitting the Send button she copied the message and sent it to Jesse.
43
SHE’S NOT WHO YOU THINK SHE IS
Veronica Bliss was in her office, trying to finalize the upcoming issue of Gossip. She had to go to press by the end of business. Should she go with one young actress who might or might not be addicted to diet pills, or another who had returned to rehab yet again? God, I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel, she thought, just as her intercom buzzed.
“Veronica? Madison Parker here to see you,” Diego announced.
“Send her in.”
For once, Veronica actually didn’t mind the little fame-whore dropping by to see her. She had given her an assignment to dig up dirt on Jane Roberts and Jesse Edwards. She’d heard through other sources that the loving couple had had some sort of fight during his birthday party at Goa. What she needed now was details…and more important, pictures. Unfortunately, she’d found out about the party too late to send her own people.
Madison walked into the room, grinning from ear to ear like she owned the place. Veronica took a deep breath, quelling the impulse to take the girl down a notch. Maybe she had something. It was worth being polite, at least for the next forty-five seconds.
“Hi, Veronica,” Madison said smoothly.
“Madison. What do you have for me?”
Madison reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone. She handed it to Veronica. “You’re gonna love these pictures,” she said smugly. “Just click on the arrow—there are six of them, total.”
Veronica took the phone and began scanning through Madison’s photo gallery. The first picture showed a guy who looked like Jesse Edwards, sitting at a table, grabbing the hand of some girl who was standing with her back to the camera. Was that Scarlett Harp? It was hard to tell.
The second picture was almost impossible to make out too: a guy with his arm around a blond girl, taken from a distance. The other pictures were equally blurry, grainy…useless.
Veronica shook her head and tossed the phone back to Madison. It fell near her feet, and the battery popped out, clattering loudly across the floor.
“Shit, what are you doing?” Madison said angrily, bending down to pick everything up.
“What are you doing is a better question,” Veronica said curtly. “I can’t use these pictures. Next time, use a real camera, with a flash.”
“But these are hot! They’re from Jesse’s birthday party at Goa. He was flirting like crazy with Scarlett—as in Jane’s best friend? And the other pictures? He was practically making out with this random blonde with thirty-eight double D—”
“What random blonde? Do you have a name?” Veronica interrupted.
Madison frowned. “Um…no. But maybe I could ask around.” Her face lighting up, she added, “Oh, and I have something else, too. I’m ninety-nine percent sure Jane has an eating disorder. She’s lost weight. And at Jesse’s party, she threw up in the bathroom. She forgot to turn off her mike, and the whole crew heard—”
Veronica raised her hand, silencing Madison. Enough. “That’s not an eating disorder, Madison, that’s a diet,” she snapped. “One of my photographers saw Jane on the street yesterday. She looks better than ever. Seriously, unless you give me something worth printing, I’m not wasting any more time or magazine space with your coattail-riding ass. Now, give me something good, with pictures I can actually use, or you’ll be lucky to make the ‘Stars Are Just Like Us!’ section showing you buying zit cream at CVS.” She glanced impatiently at her watch. “Your time’s up. And I’m not just referring to your fifteen minutes.”
Madison’s eyes blazed with cold fury. She seemed to be considering something.
“Fine,” she said after a long moment. “You want pictures? I have pictures. Clear your next cover.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, clear your next cover. Believe me, it’ll be worth it.”
Veronica glanced at her watch again. But she wasn’t actually looking at it. It was just an excuse to think. She had to admit that she was a little intrigued. “What pictures? Let me see them.”
“I’ll have them sent to you this afternoon—by a special messenger. He’ll make your story even hotter.”
“He? Who’s he?”
“You’ll see.”
He was waiting for her at a corner table, nursing a watered-down-looking scotch and smoking a cigarette. It was two in the afternoon, and the bar was almost deserted. The only other occupants were a couple arguing in a corner booth. The place was a little depressing. But it was private.
“Hey, Jesse.” Madison slid into the chair opposite him. “Thanks for meeting me.”
The guy looked like crap. He had stubble on his face; his eyes were bloodshot. He’d either been drinking too much, not sleeping enough, or both. His two-hundred-dollar Thomas Pink shirt was badly wrinkled and untucked carelessly over his jeans.
Jesse sat up a little straighter. “How’s Jane?” he said, without even bothering to say hello or how are you or any of the other usual niceties. Rude. “Have you seen her? Do you know if she’s ready to talk to me? She said she needs her space, and I’m trying to respect that, but it’s making me a little crazy.” He sounded miserable, desperate. “I don’t understand what’s going on with her. I went to her apartment on Saturday morning, and I thought everything was cool between us. Then I got that text from her on Saturday night. Has she said anything to you?”
The bartender caught Madison’s eye, but she shook her head, indicating that she wasn’t drinking today. She had to stay clear-headed for what she was about to do. For a brief second, she thought about backing out. After all, what she was about to do would humiliate Jane. And Jane trusted her.
No, she told herself firmly. You’ve gotta stay strong. It was all Veronica Bliss’s fault, anyway. If she hadn’t been such a smug, awful bitch that morning, Madison wouldn’t have changed her mind about using the photos.
“Jesse, you’ve gotta give up on her. She’s not good enough for you.”
“What are you talking about? Of course she is. I’m the asshole, not her.”
Madison leaned forward and placed her perfectly manicured nails on his arm, silencing him. She let her lips curl into a meticulously calibrated smile: a little bit sympathetic, a little bit flirty. He glanced at her in surprise, then smiled back. It was a ghost of a smile, but it was definitely a smile. God. Men. They were so easy sometimes.
“She’s not good enough for you,” Madison repeated, keeping her hand on his arm. “You’ve seen the show. She exudes this image like she’s this perfect little princess. But I know her. She puts on a good act. Deep down, she’s not who you think she is. Who anyone thinks she is. She’s just as messed up as the rest of us.”
Jesse picked up his drink and took a long swig, his eyes never leaving her face. “What are you talking about?”
“So you wanted to have a little fun on your twenty-first birthday. So what?” Madison breezed on. “It’s totally understandable. Everyone does it. Why did she make such a huge deal out of it?”
Jesse shrugged and took another swig of his drink. He looked thoughtful. Good. He was starting to come around.
“Jane, on the other hand, didn’t have an excuse for what she did,” Madison continued.
Jesse frowned. “What she did? What are you talking about?”
Madison reached into her bag and pulled out the brown manila envelope. She hesitated a moment before sliding the envelope across the table. “I’m sorry, Jesse,” she said gently. “I really am. But I didn’t want you to see these somewhere else first.”
“What’s this?”
“Just look inside.”
Jesse stared at the envelope for a long second before picking it up and opening it. He pulled out the pile o
f photographs and tipped them up to see them in the dim light.
The first one was enough. The one of Jane lying on her bed dressed in nothing but her underwear, with an almost-naked Braden next to her, his hands all over her. Jesse’s face tightened—first with shock, then hurt, then pure, hot rage.
“What…the…fuck?” he spat out.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Madison whispered, squeezing his arm. “It happened last Friday night.”
“Friday night?”
Jesse went through all the photos again—twice, three times, four times. They were all variations on the same sordid theme: his girlfriend cheating on him with his best friend. It couldn’t get worse (or, from Madison’s perspective, better) than that.
“What…the…fuck?” he said again. He looked mad enough to kill someone. “Where did you get these?”
“From a reliable source. But that’s not important right now,” Madison said. “What’s important is…this is the real Jane.”
Jesse sat there for a long moment, saying nothing. He lit another cigarette and began smoking again. She waited a moment to let him digest everything. Then she made her next move. If nothing else, she was the queen of timing.
“She’s been lying to all of us. America’s Sweetheart isn’t so sweet.” Jesse looked up and Madison worried that he’d detected anger in her voice. Quickly recovering, she said, “I just hate what she did to you. You’re a good guy. You deserve better.” Madison moved even closer to him so that he could see her perfectly molded cleavage, smell her warm perfume, sense just how deeply, deeply sorry she was for his heartbreak. “There’s someone you need to take these photos to. Someone who will know exactly what to do with them.”
“Who?” Jesse asked her.
Madison told him.
44
OH…MY…GOD…
Jane sank back against the pillows, watching the morning sun streaming through the window and making lazy patterns on the cream walls. She glanced at her clock. It was a few minutes after seven. She remembered that it was Friday. Their weekly staff meeting had been rescheduled this week because Fiona had three important meetings lined up with clients. Anna Payne was one of them; the New Year’s Eve party was still off, but she and Noah were back on, and she was hiring Fiona to plan their Valentine’s Day recommitment ceremony. Anna was pretty sure he’d be out of rehab by then. Dana had scheduled cameras to be at two of the three meetings. It was going to be a busy day.
But first…shower. She rose out of bed and started for the bathroom when her cell phone rang, stopping her in her tracks. Phone. Where was her phone? She spotted it on her floor, half-hidden underneath a white silk scarf. She picked it up and smiled when she saw the name on the screen: Diego Neri. She hadn’t seen him since the awful night of Jesse’s birthday party. Now that she was taking a break from Jesse (and Braden, too), she had more time on her hands. She reminded herself to make a date to go out with D, maybe to a club. She should ask Scar to come with them too. They’d spent so little time together lately. She missed her friend.
Scar had been in a really good mood all week, ever since Jane had told her about taking a break from Jesse. She hadn’t even given Jane an “I told you so” lecture. Jane hadn’t told her about hooking up with Braden, though. Thankfully, Scar hadn’t heard him sneak out of the apartment on Saturday morning. She hadn’t told anyone that—not even Hannah.
“Hey, D,” Jane said into the phone. “You’re up early! Or have you been up all—”
“Jane!” D sounded semi-hysterical. “Oh God! I’m so, so, so sorry!”
Jane frowned at the phone. What was he talking about? “Sorry for what, sweetie?”
“Veronica gave me a few days off, so I had no idea what was going on. She knows you and I are friends.”
“D, what are you talking about?”
There was a pause. “You haven’t seen the new issue of Gossip?”
“No. Why?”
“These photos of you…someone leaked them to the magazine. It’s the cover, with a four-page spread. Ohmigod, Jane, I feel like jumping off a bridge! I should have prevented this somehow! I should have seen this coming and protected you and—”
Jane’s blood ran cold. What photos of her? “Lemme call you back,” she said, hanging up without waiting for D’s response.
She jumped out of bed and ran over to her laptop. She could barely think straight as she Googled her name. What was going on? What were these photos that had freaked D out so much?
And then she saw.
They were not only on the Gossip website, but they were all over the Internet. Photos of her wearing nothing but underwear, looking awful…and in a very, very compromising position with Braden. Several positions, actually.
She felt as though she were watching a slow, hideous car wreck as she scrolled through the photos…and then the full story of how she had allegedly hooked up with her boyfriend Jesse’s best friend just nights after Jesse’s twenty-first birthday party, completely breaking Jesse’s heart. (There was no mention of Jesse’s own terrible behavior at Goa.) The story hinted—using the flimsiest bits of so-called evidence (Jesse had been spotted in the jewelry store Fourteen Karats…people at Fiona Chen Events had been speculating…)—that Jesse had been on the verge of giving her a promise ring to seal their “whirlwind romance” when Jane had done this to him. The story even hinted at other possible infidelities by Jane—nothing substantive, just wisps of ugly rumors.
“Oh…my…God,” Jane whispered, unable to take her eyes off the screen. She couldn’t breathe. “Oh my God…oh my God…oh my God!”
Jane clamped a hand over her mouth and shook her head. She felt numb. She was in absolute shock. It wasn’t really happening. This couldn’t be real.
But it was real. Everyone in the world, including her friends, her coworkers, the people at L.A. Candy, her little sisters, her parents…and Jesse, were going to see these photos. If they hadn’t already.
Her cell started buzzing again. At the same time, the landline started ringing. “Just…go…away,” she murmured. She collapsed onto the bed, slid under the covers, and began sobbing quietly into her pillows.
45
THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR
Scarlett pressed Redial for the hundredth time while pulling into the underground parking garage of her and Jane’s apartment building. “Damn it, Janie. Answer your fucking phone!” she said, frustrated. She had been trying to call Jane ever since Cammy had come up to her in the library and shown her the Gossip website’s pictures of Jane and Braden on her iPhone. O-M-G! Is she okay? She didn’t seem like such a slut on the show! But I guess you never know about people, right?
Scarlett ran toward the elevators, her backpack slapping against her side. She’d left the apartment at 6 a.m., heading for the library to study for final exams. She should have stayed home. Why hadn’t she stayed home?
Hurry. She had to hurry. Then again, what if Jane wasn’t home? What if she was at work, hiding in the bathroom and freaking out? But she couldn’t think about that now.
She noticed two paparazzi staked out near the elevators. She stifled her shock. She had never seen them around the apartment building before.
As soon as they saw Scarlett, they rushed toward her. One of them began snapping pictures of her, and the other one attempted to balance a camcorder as he ran. Their voices tumbled over each other:
“Scarlett!”
“Hey, Scarlett!”
“Any comment on today’s story?”
“Is this the first time Jane’s cheated on Jesse?”
“How do you feel about Jane’s pictures?”
“Move!” Scarlett snarled at them as she pushed her way to the elevator door, got in, and punched the number of their floor. Parasites. These paparazzi were the most awful people. They were responsible for all this. They had somehow Photoshopped pictures of Jane to make her look half-naked, and like she and Braden had hooked up. Jane and Braden had definitely not hooked up. Jane would have to
ld her if they had. And now Jane was probably having a total breakdown. Scarlett knew her best friend did not deal with crises very well.
Just as the elevator doors slid open, Scarlett spotted someone coming up the stairs and heading toward her and Jane’s apartment door. It was Madison. What was she doing here?
Scarlett strode quickly toward the apartment door, digging through her pockets for her keys. “Hey, Madison? Jane’s not really in the mood for company right now. Could you come back later? Like maybe next week?”
Madison turned around. Relief lit up her face. “Scarlett! I’m sooo glad you’re here! I came up the back way so I could lose those photographers. We’ve gotta get in there and make sure Jane’s okay!”
“Oh, I’m on it, thanks.” Scarlett stepped past Madison and shoved her key in the lock. “Bye now.”
“Scar? Is that you?”
It was Jane’s voice, coming from inside. It sounded thin and hoarse, as though she had been crying. Scarlett pushed open the door and rushed in. Madison was at her heels. Fine, so she wouldn’t be able to lose the bitch just this second. She would get rid of her after she’d checked on Jane.
Jane was curled up on the living room couch, still wearing her pajamas, her laptop propped on her knees. Her hair was tied back in a messy knot and her face was splotchy with tears. She didn’t look up at Scarlett and Madison, but instead kept her eyes glued to her computer screen. She was clicking from website to website, her fingers listlessly punching keys.
“Janie?” Scarlett bent down and put her hands on Jane’s shoulders. She glanced quickly at the screen, at one of Jane’s photos accompanied by the blazing headline: L.A.
CANDY STAR HAS SWEET TOOTH FOR HOOKING UP. “Janie, are you okay?”
“It’s everywhere.” Jane’s blue eyes welled up with tears. “I can’t believe…Did you see?” She could barely get the words out.
L. A. Candy Page 22
