L. A. Candy
Page 23
Scarlett gave Jane a fierce, protective hug. “This is all bullshit, Jane, and you know it. It’s gonna blow over. In the meantime, I’m gonna find out who faked those photos and—”
“Scarlett, they’re not fake,” Jane cut her off. She began crying again.
“What do you mean? They’re real? You and Braden didn’t—”
“We did. Just once. I didn’t mean for it to happen. But when he came over that night…” Jane covered her face with her hands and began crying harder.
Scarlett’s mind was reeling. Jane and Braden had hooked up? Why hadn’t Jane told her this before? She and Jane had always told each other everything. Although Scarlett was keeping a few secrets of her own these days. She vowed to come clean with Jane soon—to be as close as they used to be before L.A. Candy came along.
And then something else—something more disturbing—occurred to her. “If these photos aren’t fake, then who took them?” she asked Jane sharply.
Scarlett felt a hand on her shoulder. Madison leaned over and gestured to her, indicating that she wanted to talk to her privately. Scarlett moved back until she and Madison were standing a little ways away from Jane. “What is it?” Scarlett snapped. “Can’t it wait?”
“Listen, this is important.” Madison lowered her voice so Jane couldn’t hear. “I didn’t want to say anything before. But I have a couple of friends at Star and In Touch. Both of them told me that Jesse’s been shopping these photos around at all the tabloids. I don’t know how he got them, but—I guess he’s pretty pissed about Jane cheating on him with his best friend. He felt humiliated. And he wanted to humiliate her back.” Madison gazed worriedly at Jane. “Guess it worked.”
Scarlett stared at Madison, trying to process what she was saying. “Jesse? He did this?”
“That’s the word.”
Scarlett sucked in a deep breath. Then she turned to Madison. “Can you stay with Jane for a little while? Don’t answer the phone, and don’t let anyone in the door. Get her off that damned computer, and no TV, either. I have something I have to take care of.”
“No problem,” Madison promised. “I’ll stay here all day and night if you need me to. That’s what friends are for.”
Scarlett went back to Jane and gave her friend another hug. She could feel her trembling. “I’ll be right back, okay? Madison’s gonna stay with you. I promise everything is gonna be fine. This is all gonna go away.”
Jane hugged her back and nodded without saying anything.
Scarlett scooped up her keys and rushed out the door.
“Open the door, Jesse!” Scarlett yelled.
No answer. Scarlett had been ringing the doorbell, shouting and pounding her fists against the front door for the last five minutes—but no answer. She had a strong suspicion that Jesse was home. His Range Rover was in the driveway, and she could see lights on inside. She wasn’t sure about Braden. She didn’t see his car. But she assumed he was probably at the closest coffee shop searching for apartments in the paper.
“Open up!” Scarlett shouted. The door opened a crack, and she saw Jesse standing there.
He looked like shit, as though he had been drinking and not sleeping for several nights. He was dressed in a pair of navy cotton pajama bottoms and nothing else. Scarlett shoved her way inside, smelling stale vodka on his breath as she got close to his unshaven face. “Listen, you asshole,” she said, not bothering with any sort of greeting. “You’re such a worthless piece of shit. Do you have any idea how low you are?”
Jesse rubbed his eyes and regarded her with a sad, tired expression. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy, Scarlett. Braden’s out.”
“Yeah, I’ll take care of him next. How dare you? Jane dumps your pathetic ass, and instead of sucking it up like a man you go to the fucking tabloids and try to sell those sleazy photos of her and Braden? What makes you think you—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jesse held up his palms. “Wait a second. You think I gave those photos to the magazine?”
“Yeah, deny it and act innocent all you want. I know the truth.”
“No, you don’t know the truth. It was Madison.”
“Madison?” Scarlett said, surprised. “Wait. What?”
“She asked me to meet with her a few days ago in some dive bar. I agreed, ’cause I thought maybe Jane had sent her to talk to me or something,” Jesse explained. “That’s when she showed me the photos. I have no idea where she got them. She told me I should get even with Jane by taking them to Veronica Bliss at Gossip.”
“She…did…what?” The volume of Scarlett’s voice quickly rose.
Jesse grabbed her arm. “Listen to me. Those photos made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to kill them both. I still do, to be honest. But there was no way I was gonna do that to Jane. I still care about her. I couldn’t do that to her.” He added, “I guess I shoulda warned Jane about what Madison was up to. I didn’t think about that until it was too late.”
Scarlett stared at Jesse for a long moment. She could see it in his eyes. He was telling the truth. He was still the same screwed-up, arrogant asshole who wasn’t good enough for Jane. But in this horrible, awful instant, he was telling the truth.
Which meant that Madison—that psychotic bitch—had orchestrated all of this.
And Scarlett had left Jane alone with her.
Scarlett was completely out of breath when she burst into her and Jane’s apartment. She looked around. Madison and Jane were gone.
“What the hell?” Scarlett muttered, stomping around the apartment. She checked Jane’s bedroom. There was no sign of them anywhere. “What did you do with her, you crazy bitch?” Her chest swelled with anxiety and worry.
And then she saw. There was a note taped up on the refrigerator. Jane had scribbled it hastily on the back of a Chinese carry-out bill. It read:
SCARLETT: I’M SORRY, I HAD TO GET OUT OF HERE. MADISON IS SNEAKING ME OUT AND WE’RE GOING TO HER PARENTS’ CONDO IN MEXICO FOR A FEW DAYS. I NEED TO GET AWAY FROM EVERY ONE AND EVERYTHING. MADISON SAYS THERE’S NO CELL RECEPTION AT HER PLACE, WHICH IS PROBABLY A GOOD THING. I LOVE YOU! SEE YOU WHEN I GET BACK. XOXO JANE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Max Stubblefield who has helped me achieve every goal I’ve set and become a very good friend along the way. To Nicole Perez who has done so much for me and has always made sure I had good posture. To Kristin Puttkamer for everything she does, including saving my book when I forgot to back up my hard drive before accidentally downloading a computer virus.
To P.J. Shapiro for always looking out for my best interests. To Dave Del Sesto for helping me keep my life together. To Adam DiVello for finding me in a parking lot at Laguna Beach High School and sticking with me ever since. To Sophia Rossi for being the big sister I never had. To Tony DiSanto, Liz Gateley, and everyone at MTV, without whom this book would not be possible.
To HarperCollins for giving me this opportunity, and specifically Zareen Jaffery and Farrin Jacobs for guiding me through the world of publishing. To Matthew Elblonk who helped in obtaining this opportunity for me and assisted in making my dream come true. To Nancy Ohlin, my collaborator, for helping me every step of the way while I navigated the writing process—I couldn’t have done it without you.
Also I would like to thank Maura, Lo, Jillian, Natania, and Britton because they are the most amazing people I know and I am lucky to call them my best friends. And of course my family, whose support has been essential in helping me achieve my goals.
About the Author
LAUREN CONRAD is the star of MTV’s number-one hit show, The Hills. She launched her career as a fashion designer in Spring 2008 with the debut of the Lauren Conrad Collection. Lauren has been featured on the covers of Cosmopolitan, Rolling Stone, Seventeen, and Entertainment Weekly, among others. She lives in Los Angeles. This is her first novel.
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Credits
Jacket photo © 2009
by Alloy Photography/Veer
Jacket design by Sasha Illingworth
Copyright
L.A. CANDY. Copyright © 2009 by Lauren Conrad. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition May 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-191915-2
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