HDU #2: Dirt

by India Lee

  Once he laid her gently onto her back, Amanda watched Liam as he hovered over her, peeling the ring of nightgown around her waist down to her hips, then her knees and then her ankles, savoring the process. Her chest heaving up and down with anticipation, Amanda raked her hair away from her face with her fingers, watching Liam hook his fingers into her panties.

  But just as he pulled gently down on one side, a harsh buzzing sound interrupted.

  Amanda let out a tiny yelp, instinctively pulling her underwear back up. She blinked — first at Liam and then the direction in which the sound came. The nightstand.

  It was her phone, lit up with a single red notification, indicating the brand new email in her inbox.

  Oh God. Please, no.

  “Amanda?”

  She ignored Liam as her body immediately scrambled to all fours on the mattress, her right arm reaching up to snatch the phone off the table and immediately unlock the screen.

  Please, please, please don’t be from “me.”

  She held out hope until the last second. But it was pointless. Staring at her screen, Amanda’s jaw clenched, her stomach lurching.

  Once again, the email was from her own address.

  But this time, it was just a little different. Reading the chipper email, Amanda felt her heart drop hard like a twenty pound weight.

  Almost forgot. Happy birthday to me, PrettyKitty29.

  Reminder to self: Celebration tomorrow, 11AM at The Red Deer with my love Casey Mulreed. Don’t be late! ;)

  ~

  Of course.

  Amanda almost wanted to laugh as the hostess led her from inside the cottage-like dining room of The Red Deer right back out onto the sidewalk. She probably would’ve if her stomach didn’t hurt so badly.

  “Miss Mulreed requested this table today,” the hostess explained, no doubt catching a hint of disbelief on Amanda’s face despite her shaded eyes. They stood awkwardly on the lonely patio, which was more likely empty due to the scorching sun than the horde of paparazzi milling across the street. “I, um… I’m sorry,” the hostess laughed nervously. “I’ll speak to my manager again about having them leave,” she offered before disappearing back into the restaurant.

  Reluctantly taking her seat, Amanda glared at the pack of six men armed with Nikons. They were planted directly across the street from her table. She could hear their cameras going off, capturing shots that had to be clear as day thanks to her dubious outdoor seating. She couldn’t have been more exposed. On a normal day, it would’ve made her blood boil to be stationary in front of a bunch of Pop Dinner photographers — easily the sleaziest breed of paparazzi — but today, there was too much on her mind for her to care.

  Namely the utterly horrifying fact that Casey Mulreed knew everything.

  She knew about PrettyKitty29, about HDU and about the complete fabrication that had been Amanda’s relationship with Liam. The idea of it turned Amanda’s stomach so violently that she actually had to clutch her midsection to ease the pain. Her only other comfort was knowing the fact that Casey would never release her massive secret to the public without first trying to extort something from her.

  “Enjoying the view?”

  Amanda froze. Already, there was such amusement in Casey’s crisp, icy little voice. Slowly turning, she clenched her jaw, thankful to Ian’s old Ray Bans for shielding her expression. Her eyes had always been more honest and expressive than she wished for and the last thing she needed was for Casey Mulreed to know that she was scared. Doing her best to gather herself, Amanda watched Casey smile and wave a busboy off, pulling out her own chair and tucking the skirt of her vintage floral dress beneath her before taking a seat. Though they tried to be discreet, Amanda could see patrons eyeing them, no doubt wondering if they’d gotten their answer to the question of whether or not the girls had remained friends.

  “Aren’t you just adorable, wearing his shirt to our brunch date,” Casey mused, tilting her head to study Liam’s grey T-shirt. Amanda felt herself touch it defensively, twisting its hem in her fingers. “It’s almost like you’re trying to prove something to me.”

  Amanda bristled. “What is it that you want, Casey?” she asked between her teeth.

  Casey fluttered her blonde eyelashes. “No ‘how have you been?’ We have so much to catch up on, doll! I haven’t seen you since March and look at all that’s happened for you since then. You have so, so much going for you right now. Isn’t it incredible?”

  Amanda glared. “Why did you hack into my inbox, Casey, tell me now or I’m leaving.”

  Casey tittered, her blue eyes actually twinkling. “Do you want to know the honest truth, doll?”

  “Yes.”

  She sat back in the wicker chair, playing with the leather belt that cinched her little waist. “I wanted to see if I could find anything on what you planned to say for your big tell-all with Fleur. I thought, ‘Is she silly enough to talk about what happened with Casey now that she thinks she’s a real celebrity? Would she really be so stupid?’” Casey tilted her head, gazing at Amanda with a placid smile.

  “I wasn’t going to talk about it,” Amanda responded briskly. “I wouldn’t make Ian relive it after how far he’s come.”

  “Well, you’re not as stupid as I thought.” Casey smirked as she set her napkin in her lap. “But you might actually be stupider — Pretty Kitty.” She snorted, hardly able to say Amanda’s online username without laughing. “Christ, doll, if you weren’t eight when you made up that screen name then I completely overestimated who I was dealing with here.”

  Amanda felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, rage and just about every emotion under the hot West Village sun. But just as she opened her mouth to retort, the server approached their table to take orders.

  “We’re only doing drinks today. A Bloody Mary for my friend and I’ll just have a seltzer with lime, thank you,” Casey said daintily before returning her attention to Amanda. “So, ever heard of a hard drive, silly nilly?” she giggled as she ran her finger along the side of her water glass, drawing a smiley face in the condensation. “I’m in love with the fact that you chose to store all that info in your inbox when even government websites get hacked these days. I mean, doll. Come on. That is beyond irresponsible. To both you and your pretend lover.” Running a hand through her jaw-length hair, Casey let out a mixture of a sigh and a groan. “God, you might actually be as dumb as your little crackhead friend. What was his stupid little name for the thing again? Film Freak?”

  Amanda felt her airway close up again. Of course this meant that she knew about Ian, too. “You’ve done enough to him, Casey. The media, everyone — they’re hard enough on him as it is. He’s trying to rebuild. Don’t expose this part of his life, too.”

  Casey batted her lashes, amused. “Who said I was going to? I plan on keeping that loser forgotten. Besides, this is about you today, doll. You and this…” She put two manicured fingertips to her tiny mouth. “This very impressive fifteen minutes that you managed to stretch into a job with Vogel and an interview with Fleur. And somehow, comparisons to me.” Casey laughed tartly. “As if it really would have anything to do with you if Leadoff somehow did better than Legacy. Not that it will. You didn’t hear it from me, but I’m going to have your stupid show canceled before you reach season two.”

  “Casey.” Amanda sucked in a deep breath, wanting desperately to get to the point already. Her stomach couldn’t take much more.

  “I have to say, I really didn’t think you’d make it this long in the city. Mostly because I figured it’d be no time before you walked in on Liam sticking his dick in some nineteen-year-old model or a couple of his ex-girlfriends at the same time, or whatever the fuck.” She threw her hands in the air. “Turns out you two are full of shit, anyway. Who would’ve guessed?” She paused for effect before snorting with delight. “Everyone. But hey. In this industry, loving someone is a liability. So I’ll give you a few points for faking the relationship.”

  Amanda ground her teeth agai
n. “Casey. Just tell me what it is that you want.”

  “Fine.” She plucked the cornichon from Amanda’s drink and popped it in her mouth. “All I want, doll, is for you to say a few nice things about your good friend Casey at your interview today. Sing a little bit of praise for my show. Give credit where it’s due, that’s all.” She leaned back, cocking her head with a exaggeratedly sweet, doe-like eyes. “How’s that sound?”

  Suspiciously easy. “You’ll have to elaborate.”

  Casey snorted. “Mm, no, not really. I could tell you to stick your tongue down our busboy’s throat right now and you’d do it to keep this from getting out.” She smiled wide when Amanda said nothing. “You might be a little dim but I think you do realize what this kind of press would do to you both. No one’s stupid, we all know Vogel hired you because of Wendy, and Wendy’s only in love with you because you remind her of when she was an awkward little industry rookie. Thing is she actually was a sweet, innocent girl who caught some hot shot’s eye. You… you’re some fame-hungry gossip whore who blackmailed Liam Brody into dating you. You’re not America’s Sweetheart, you’re a lonely little Internet troll.”

  “Casey. I get it. What is it that you want me to say? I’ll say it.” Amanda could hardly believe the words coming out of her own mouth. Casey flashed a bright smile.

  “See? How hard was that?” Reaching for Amanda’s Bloody Mary, she took a sip. “Get that pretty new phone out, doll, I need you to write all this down.”

  Amanda reached into her bag, keeping her eyes locked on Casey. “How do I know you won’t leak everything even if I do what you say?”

  “You don’t,” Casey simpered. “But let’s be honest here, doll, you really don’t have a choice one way or the other. Either come out and tell the world that you and Liam are a crock of shit or do what I say.” Tilting her head, she batted her lashes. “Doesn’t it seem a whole lot easier to just give a few harmless little quotes to a magazine?”

  It did, but Amanda knew it couldn’t possibly be so simple. Despite that, she opened her notes on her phone. Her pulse pounded angrily in her teeth as she clenched her jaw, typing out all the false, idiotic quotes as Casey fed them to her.

  “Oh, come now, don’t look so mad,” Casey giggled once they were finished. She kept her icy blue gaze fixed on Amanda as a passing server plucked the American Express she held out between her fingers. “I’m inducting you into the industry, Mandy. You haven’t arrived till you’ve gotten fully screwed.” She flashed a winning smile. “So welcome, doll. You’re officially part of the game.”

  AMANDA AND CASEY: BUDDY BRUNCH AT THE RED DEER!

  The Pop Source

  July 2nd

  What feud?

  Amanda Nathan and Casey Mulreed put a rest to the rivalry rumors yesterday morning when they sat for a meal at The Red Deer in Manhattan’s West Village. Casey rocked vintage chic in a knee-length floral dress while Amanda kept it boyfriend casual in Liam’s T-shirt and jeans. Too cute!

  Said an onlooker, “Casey was laughing and smiling the whole meal. Amanda was faced away from everyone but you could pretty much tell that they were having a great time.”

  But what does this mean for Amanda’s continued friendship with Ian Marsh? Celebrity analyst Monica Kinsey weighs in:

  “From the looks of it, Casey isn’t one to hold a grudge. It’s more than likely that she understands Amanda’s need to help Ian because she is dealing with similar problems herself when it comes to addiction. Now is not the time for Amanda to abandon Ian and Casey understands that, even if it’s a hard pill to swallow. In the end, she is a Mulreed, and the Mulreeds are famous for having hearts of gold. Substance abuse is a terrible thing, but it has made them into a resilient, humble family.”

  Good on Casey, and here’s to a lasting friendship between America’s favorite sweethearts!

  Chapter 4

  Squinting hard, Amanda studied her reflection in her bathroom mirror. She hardly recognized herself.

  Did I give them permission to cut and dye my hair?

  And straighten it. It was now straight, glossy and highlighted with a shimmery caramel color. Dear Lord. And she had a bang — a side-swept one. But still. Bangs were kind of a big decision. Not that she didn’t like the look. From what she could see past her remaining Casey-induced anger, she looked good. Sultry, almost, which was quite a change. Amanda was pretty sure she’d be delighting in her little makeover if it weren’t for the fact that she was still fuming.

  I probably did consent to the bangs.

  She couldn’t really be sure. Consumed with Casey-related thoughts, she’d been a total zombie during her hair and makeup session for the June Magazine interview. It had taken place on the rooftop botanical garden at The Green, an exclusive boutique hotel in Gramercy Park. She’d been surrounded by pink wisteria and lavender while sitting on a floral chaise in a cream crochet dress, an elderberry lemonade cocktail in her French manicured hand. The sugary sweet surroundings had felt like such a joke in comparison to the absolute darkness she felt in the pit of her stomach throughout the entire interview. Spouting the lines she’d memorized for Casey had felt bad enough — her ability to say them so convincingly made Amanda feel infinitely worse.

  “Yes, Casey and I are still very good friends — we just don’t see each other as often anymore because we’re both so, so busy. But she’ll always be one of the most important people in my life because she was the one who introduced me to all of my career opportunities. I owe her absolutely everything.”

  “No, I’d rather not talk about Ian but I will say that Casey’s been very gracious and understanding about that ordeal. I couldn’t be more thankful to her for being behind me throughout the past few months.”

  “Oh yes, there’s definitely a rivalry between Leadoff and Legacy. I think Tom hired me to give him intel on Casey’s show…. I’m not sure what else I have to offer!”

  “God.” Amanda covered her face with her hands, letting them slide slowly down her bronzed cheeks. Acting like an airhead for Casey had felt so horribly degrading. And the fact that they were mostly harmless quotes only served to worry Amanda more. As Ian had already found out, being Casey’s puppet was never so simple. Trouble was still ahead, probably in the form of more blackmail, and the worst part of it all was that Amanda couldn’t tell Liam or Ian. She’d already kept her decision to spout Casey’s quotes a secret from them, essentially lying to them. And while she was no stranger to lying, doing so to Liam or Ian made Amanda feel dirty. It didn’t help that Casey was still essentially a dormant volcano.

  Stalking to her closet, she stripped off the crochet dress that the stylists at Fleur had let her keep, stepping out of it and kicking it into a corner. It was too flowery to match her mood. Staring into her closet full of Wendy-gifted clothing, Amanda felt herself grinding her teeth with irritation. Alright. Calm down and get into double date mode. You were excited for this, she scolded herself, all the while tearing a dress off its hanger. It was black and it matched her mood. That was all she needed to know.

  By the time she noticed the headlights of Liam’s Mercedes shine through her window, she was mostly dressed — three-inch wedges on her feet and her dress on with just the zipper hanging open in the back. She groaned, wishing she could call Liam in to help her but he was already at Lilac with Connor and Connor’s girlfriend. With her interview having run hours late, she’d requested that they start without her.

  “Breathe,” Amanda murmured to herself while contorting her arms to pull the zipper up on her dress. Just get through tonight and tomorrow, you’ll explain everything to Liam. And Ian. She clomped over to the bathroom for the help of a mirror. Maybe. Maybe it’d be better to tell them that the interview quotes and brunch with Casey had been some publicity stunt ordered by Tom and Wendy. They want to keep people guessing, she’d say. At least then she wouldn’t have to worry them by revealing what Casey knew. Not till she figured out herself how to deal with Casey.

  Because more than ever n
ow, she had to. She needed to find something on Casey Mulreed.

  Peering over her shoulder as she pulled up the zipper on the damned dress, Amanda narrowed her eyes. The hair, the makeup, the clothes. It was strange, but she really didn’t recognize herself.

  ~

  The paparazzi outside of Lilac probably qualified as mob but Amanda tried to accept it as a tradeoff for having had none outside of her apartment before. It was always nice to step out of her building without having to deal with camera flashes and questions asked solely for provocation. “Amanda… big lunch? Or any chance you’re pregnant?” “Hey Mandy, I heard Ian started using again — is that true?”

  Stepping out of the Mercedes in front of Lilac, Amanda braced herself for the camera flashes and the stupid questions. But for the first few seconds out the car, she got neither.

  “Whoa.”

  Amanda tried to contain the confusion on her face as a few paparazzi even lowered their cameras for a moment. They squinted at her. But as her heels clicked on toward the entrance, the cameras began to go off slowly, crescendoing into a storm of flashing lights.

  “It is her!”

  Oh right, Amanda snorted inwardly as she remembered her transformation. Running her fingers through her glossy, straight hair, she considered that it probably was a big deal. She’d just been so consumed with thoughts of Casey that she hadn’t had time to properly react. Looking down at herself as she entered Lilac, Amanda raised her eyebrows. Her hair now reached the bottom of her ribcage whereas before, it had only been up to the middle of her chest. And the caramel highlights — they seemed to lap up every last hint of light in the dimly lit restaurant. They practically glittered against the severe matte of her black leather mini dress.

  What the hell am I wearing?

  Freezing in her tracks, Amanda stared down at the dress that Wendy had given her, that she had probably laughed off and dismissed as too vampy upon receiving it. Had she been that mentally off while getting dressed? Holy crap, Amanda, get your shit together. How many blackout style choices are you going to make in one day?