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Authors: Kylie Adams

BOOK: Beautiful Liars
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THE IT PARADE
BY
J
INX
W
IATT
 
Fill in the Blanks
 
When it comes down to breakups, here's the golden rule: Always be the one to do the leaving. Not only does that make for a much better story (the girl who sobs over the guy who left her is about as much fun as lung cancer), but it ratchets up the quality of talent in the reboundpool. Why? A dejected girl is easy prey. The lady who presses the EJECT button is a true score. Too bad that young morning talk starlet can no longer claim to have marched out on that startlingly virilepublishing magnate. Turns out Mr. Viagra was up to no good with two delicious tarts long before he was shown the exit door.
22
Emma
“It was so funny,” Mio Kometani said breathlessly. “I thought Mako had cleaned up the poo poo, but she thought that I had! So it was still there the next morning.” She held her nose. “Poo poo stinks.” She giggled.
Mako giggled, too. “I didn't clean up the poo poo, but she thought that I had!”
Emma traded a brain-dead look with Finn.
“Now I've only seen a few clips of the show that feature your dog,” Simone interjected. “But I understand that she's quite the diva.”
“Oh, yes,” Mio answered in a serious tone. “Her name is White Diamonds, and she's a Chihuahua from a champion bloodline.”
Mako nodded. “She has a collar made of white diamonds, too.”
“And one made of rubies and sapphires,” Mio put in.
“She also has her own live-in chef,” Mako said. “He only cooks for White Diamonds, and he's a graduate of the French Culinary Institute.”
“Oh, well,
he
must've been at the top of his class,” Finn cracked.
The audience roared with laughter.
Mio and Mako returned blank stares.
Emma glanced down at her notes for the segment, and for a fleeting moment, wondered if this could be the death knell for a career she had worked so hard to build. “Now what's this I hear about White Diamonds being psychic?”
“She is,” Mio said earnestly.“She tells us what to wear and what songs to sing.”
“And she tells us what clubs to go to,” Mako added.
“Exactly how does White Diamonds do this?” Emma inquired,hating herself for asking the question.
“She runs around, she barks, and sometimes she pees,” Mio said. “It depends.”
The audience responded with amused titters.
“If that's the case, why do I bother with telephone psychics?”Finn cracked. “It sounds like I could save myself a fortuneby adopting a mutt from the pound.”
More laughter.
Mio and Mako giggled dimly.
“The two of you manage to stay in phenomenal shape, and I understand that a diet book is in the works,” Simone said.
Mio nodded enthusiastically. “Whenever we have time we scribble down ideas for our diet book. Like when we go out to a restaurant for dinner, we always order three or four en-trées.That way when the food comes, you know that you can't eat all of it, and you start to feel full right away.”
“Yes,” Mako chimed in. “I just take a bite from each dish, and then I'm stuffed!”
Emma just sat there, appalled. “How could the average person afford to do that? And what about the obscene waste of food?”
Mio and Mako looked stunned. Clearly, such concerns had never entered their cotton candy minds.
“I think it's time for a song!” Finn erupted, exaggerating the awkward moment save for full comic impact. “What are you going to sing for us today?”
Mio cleared her throat. “Today we are singing a very specialsong called ‘The Prayer.'”
Mako beamed proudly. “And we are dedicating it to all of the models with eating disorders.”
Emma did an involuntary double take and nearly toppled over.
Finn steadied her with a firm hand. “I think Emma is alreadyovercome with emotion.”
“Yes,” Emma managed to say through clenched teeth. “If only I could describe precisely what I'm feeling.”
The treacly strains of canned karaoke music commenced as Mio and Mako teetered off set toward a small stage where two wireless microphones awaited them.
They began to sing the Andrea Bocelli and Celine Dion classic in breathless voices devoid of personality—and clearly aided by pre-recorded vocal overlays. “I pray you'll be our eyes/And watch us where we go ...”
“This is for the runway models who won't eat,” Emma muttered under her breath.
“Wounded war veterans and the crisis in Darfur were alreadytaken,” Finn murmured.
“I used to be a journalist,” Emma whispered tragically to no one in particular.
“This
is
news,” Finn whispered back. “It's an act of terrorismset to music.”
Emma struggled to contain her laughter, then morphed into more serious mode when she caught the look of consternationbeing leveled against her by Jay Lufkin.
Thankfully, Simone had been blocked to appear with Mio and Mako at the close of the song and provide the lead-in for the next commercial break.
Somehow Emma managed to endure what remained of the show with some semblance of professionalism—the cookingsegment, an interview with a indie film actress about her latest
edgy
project, the obligatory before/after fashion makeover featuring a member of the studio audience.
When it was over, she bolted from the set, seeking immediatesolitude.
But she was intercepted by Jay. “Emma, what's going on? You spent most of the show looking like you had someplace else to be.”
“Maybe I do.”
Jay regarded her curiously, a question in his eyes.
Emma sighed heavily and slumped against the studio wall as a phalanx of people scurried this way and that. “I don't know, Jay. I was sitting there with the Kometani twins, and it just hit me. What am I doing here? Talking about a psychic dog? Pretending to be interested in a stupid makeover that you could find on any local morning show? I feel like my brain is rotting already. I'll be a vegetable before the first season is over.”
Jay opened his mouth to speak.
Emma raised a hand to halt him. “Don't say anything about
research
. I don't care about that right now.”
“I'll admit—today's show was more fluff than usual. The segment mix was slightly off, and Sutton was gone. But still ... I think you're overreacting,” Jay said.
Emma shook her head, not convinced. “I can't sit there and talk about which idiot was supposed to clean up White Diamonds' shit.”
“Emma—”
“I feel like an imposter, Jay. I realize that daytime is soft, but this is ... it's embarrassing.”
“It's a hit,” Jay argued.
“So is
Maury
. But I'd never do that, either.” She sighed deeply, thinking of her agent, Adam Moss, wondering if he could extricate her from this horrible mistake. It had been an emotional decision to leave
Today in New York
. She had believedthat shaking up her life and embarking upon a new career would liberate her from the melancholy over Dean Paul ... yet it was still front and center, crowding out more important things. Oh, God, she resented him for that. Hated him, in fact. Was that possible? To
hate
the man you thought you loved?
“Don't bail on me,” Jay said. He was almost pleading. “We can fix this.”
Emma gave him a doubtful look.
“The perfect formula isn't there, Emma. I'll admit that. What's working, what's not quite working—it's still a work in progress. And you're right—the softer segments were overpoweringtoday.”
Emma could feel herself caving in. She liked Jay. She trusted him, too. But deep down she sensed that the format of the show would never lend itself to becoming the kind of program she needed to be a part of.
“There's an opportunity in the ‘Bee in Our Bonnet' segment,”Jay said eagerly. “You can talk about any issue of the day.”
Emma's faint smile was uncertain. “Don't take this the wrong way. Finn and Simone are great at what they do, Jay, but I'm not sure engaging them in a discussion on the crisis in the Middle East is the best way to give
The Beehive
some gravitas.”
Jay registered a look of panic. When he spoke, his voice was half its full compass. “Emma, you're the anchor to this enterprise. Your approval numbers exceed your cohosts two- to threefold. If you want changes, we can discuss them.” He paused a beat. “Even big changes.”
She really looked at Jay to determine his meaning. “As in
talent
?”
Jay nodded severely.
Emma was shocked to discover that her popularity renderedher such power. “That's not what I want, Jay—”
“I realize that the situation with Sutton has been strained at best. There's already—”
“I'm not asking you to fire Sutton Lancaster,” Emma hissed. She glanced around to make certain that no one was within earshot. “This isn't an ultimatum. It's got nothing to do with her. Anyway, you told me that the research on her was solid.”
“I said that it didn't
spike
,” Jay corrected. “And I was being kind. I hoped that the negatives would level off. But it's not happening fast enough. This is just between us.”
Emma nodded.
“She's not out the door yet, but an offer did go out to Paula Deen. Her interest is lukewarm, but if she accepts ...”
Emma could hardly believe it. “
Paula Deen?
That Southern woman who cooks like we're still living in the fifties?”
Jay opened his mouth to answer.
But Emma thundered on. “Taking Sutton Lancaster out of the equation and putting Paula Deen in makes this situationeven worse for me.” She shook her head and started to walk away. “I can't do this, Jay. I'm sorry. This was a mistake.” Her next words were impulsive ones. But for once the decisionshe made had nothing to do with Dean Paul Lockhart. In fact, he had scarcely entered her mind. A gut instinct told her that it was the right thing to do.
“I quit.”
THE IT PARADE
BY
J
INX
W
IATT
 
Fill in the Blanks
 
New York's nightclub scene has definitely seen better days, darlings. Get a club impresario talking, and he/she will bore you to tears with complaints about party-stomping police (they hate noise and cigarettes)and weekend bridge-and-tunnelriffraff (they shop cheap boutiques and wear bad jewelry). So talk of a VVIP (the extra V is
not
a typo) establishment being dreamed up by America's popular new gay blade and a
very
surprising business partner has the tongues of boldface names wagging like crazy.
23
Finn
“Finn, please don't let on that it's me. If he's there, just say so, and I'll hang up.”
“He's not here, Tilly. I'm not sure where he is. The gym, probably.”
“Well, I have no doubt that you're taking Dean Paul's side in all of this, but I hope you can at least grant me a civil conversation.”
“I'm not on anyone's side,” Finn insisted wearily, insulted but not surprised by her assumption.
“Oh, of course not,”Tilly trilled sarcastically.
Finn experienced a quick flash of anger. “Tilly, you called me. I answered. And I've given you no indication to think that Dean Paul has somehow turned me against you. Now, what do you want?”
“What do I
want
? Oh, that's charming. And you say there's no bias.”
Briefly, Finn shut his eyes. Perhaps Tilly and Dean Paul deserved to be married to each other. “I know this is a difficulttime for you, too,” he said gently. “Is there anything I can do?” One beat. “Maybe you'd like to move into my apartmentand not clean up after yourself.”
“How funny. I just got rid of a roommate like that.” Her tone carried a bitter edge. “Seriously, Finn, I need your honest,unbiased take on something. I'm having a childcare crisis.”
“Is something wrong with the baby?”
“No, Cantaloupe is absolutely fine. But I'm without a nanny at the moment.”
“What happened to—”
“Veronika? Oh, it's been dreadful. She spends half her life online looking for a sister that she claims is trapped in a prostitutionring somewhere in Germany. I thought that only happened to beauty pageant contestants in Saudi Arabia. Anyway,she gave me some ridiculous story about finding her in Amsterdam and had the audacity to ask me to pay for her to travel there and bring her sister back. Are you believing this? Naturally, I refused. I mean, I'm not running a travel agency for runaway prostitutes. But now some of my jewelry is missing.And—surprise, surprise—so is Veronika. She never showed up this morning, and I finally put it all together. Finn, I need you to be honest with me.What kind of state is Dean Paul in? Could he be trusted with Cantaloupe? I only ask this because I'm in a horrible bind. I'm due in L.A. for a 24/7 event that I can't possibly reschedule. It's a new product launch, and executivesfrom all over the world are flying in. It's for an amazing eye cream that retails for five hundred dollars. But it's worth every penny. It's made from horse semen. I'll bring you back a free sample. Anyway, I can't possibly hire a new nanny, check references, and have a background report done in a day. I could take her with me, but she was running a fever a couple days ago, and I don't trust the cabin air on commercial flights—too many germs. So I'm at my wit's end and actually consideringDean Paul for the task of taking care of her until I get back. It's just an overnight trip. So has he been drinking heavily?Be honest. I know you adore Cantaloupe, so think of her welfare before you answer.”
“I think it would be good for him to spend some special time like that with his daughter,” Finn said. “And I say that without a moment's hesitation.”
Tilly breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, Finn. I don't know why I needed to hear that. I've trusted a kleptomaniacRussian whore with my daughter for days on end, but I second guess the child's father and the man I married. Go figure. I'll call him. Hopefully, we'll be able to stop screamingat each other long enough to work out the small details.”
“I hope it works out.”
Tilly was uncharacteristically silent. “Me, too,” she finally said.
“Try his cell,” Finn suggested. “Wherever he is, I know that he's got it with him.”
“Finn,” Tilly began hesitantly. “Has he ... has he talked about us?”
Now it was Finn's turn to hesitate. “Tilly, I can't be put in the middle like that. It's not fair. We've talked about a lot of things. I'm not taking sides here, but I have to honor his confidence.I owe him that allegiance.”
“Of course,” Tilly said quickly, obviously stung by the rebukebut recovering fast. “It was stupid of me to ask.”
“Tilly—”
But before Finn could get another word out, she had alreadyhung up.
He wavered between calling her back and letting it go, ultimatelydeciding on the latter. After all, the only way to spare Tilly's feelings would be to lie. It seemed cruel to pass along the news that Dean Paul was resigned to a divorce, that in his heart and mind he had moved on, that he was already plottinga relocation to Miami. Better to allow her to go on thinkingthat he might be quietly devastated.
Five rhythmic knocks rapped the door.
Finn checked the peephole to see the new and definitely not improved Benji Patt standing outside his door.With great annoyance, he flung it open. “You should call first.”
Benji gave Finn a diffident shrug and brushed passed him to enter the apartment, smugly surveying the surroundings. “Everything looks pretty much the same.”
“Well, I did have the place fumigated after you left,” Finn said pointedly.
Benji appeared unfazed by the remark. His eyes zeroed in on Dean Paul's gym bag, which was carelessly slung on the living room floor, its contents sloppily spilling out. “Hmm ... apparently, it didn't take.”
“What do you want?” Finn demanded.
“A friendlier hello for starters.”
“This is as good as it gets.”
Benji spied his mobile phone on the coffee table and stepped over to retrieve it. “I never got around to signing up for new service. Do you mind?”
Finn gave him a ho-hum look of disapproval. “I don't care. It hardly ever rings. You must not be very popular. Anyway, the movie's been deleted.”
Benji rolled his eyes. “Anything to protect your straight and married boyfriend, right? That relationship must be
so
fulfilling.” He settled onto the couch. “Aren't you going to offer me a drink?”
“No.You've stayed too long already. Now, again, what do you want?”
“A plan,” Benji announced. “You promised to reintroduce me to the right people in New York, make some business connections.” He looked up expectantly. “I'm ready.”
“Yeah, well, I'm not. I'll call you. Maybe this weekend. There's a big thing at Stereo.”
“I want to start my own blog,” Benji announced. “Gossip items, pictures of me with celebs, that sort of thing.”
“Just what the world needs.”
“If that fat queen Perez Hilton can do it, why can't I? I figure all I need is a new laptop, a photographer to follow me around, and some decent connections.”
Finn felt a moment's pure sympathy for the man currently known as Benji. His desperation for celebrity access seemed worse than ever. It was pathetic to see someone pushing to create a life that resembled nothing of his own. What a loser. And to think that Finn had once been in love with the guy. Frightening. Must have been the fierce looks. Finn had always been such a goner for beauty. That explained Benji then. It explained Dean Paul now. But Benji's presence was having no effect on him. The total lack of substance was countervailing his physical appeal. A sure sign of growth if ever there was one.
Finn gestured to the door. “Keep Saturday night open for now. I'll let you know about Stereo.”
Benji made no move to leave. “I need to meet someone with deep pockets. How much does it cost to open a nightclub?”
“More than you have and more than you can get.”
Benji's eyes lit up. “I hear everyone complaining about the club scene. Bloomberg's pissing all over it. The tight asses with their neighborhood noise ordinances are shutting down hot spots. Trash from New Jersey buses in to perpetrate on the weekends. And is there really a quality joint for A-listers? You know, a place where Paris and Lindsay can't bring their juvenileshit?”
Finn just looked at Benji. “Un
fucking
believable!”
Benji stared back, his expression stunned and vacant.
This only intensified Finn's anger. “We've had this conversationbefore, asshole!” He pointed to the bedroom. “In that bed! Only it was me saying those words ... practically verbatim!You might as well be lip-synching right now!”
“That was, like, a year ago,” Benji argued lamely. “I can't remember who said what.”
“You didn't say
anything
!” Finn roared. “It was
my
idea! I've dreamed about opening a club since my days at Brown! Have you ever had an original thought in your whole stupid life?”
Benji appeared bulletproof. “It's not like opening a club is the most original idea in the world. Do you own the patent on it?”
Finn tried to shake off the urge to punch Benji in the face. “You're giving me a headache. Please go.”
“We could do it together.”
Finn glared at him.
“As business partners,” Benji clarified. “Nothing more.”
“More like nothing at all,” Finn hissed. “And what exactly would classify you as a business
partner
? You have no capital to invest, and you don't know shit about the club industry—excepthow to get kicked out of one after they wise up to your drink-and-dash routine.”
There was the sound of a jangling key. And then Dean Paul walked through the door. He halted right away. “Sorry. I didn't realize you had company.”
Finn waved off the concern. “He was just leaving.”
Benji made no move to get up. “I don't have to.” He gave Dean Paul a hardcore, lascivious look. “I'm game for a three-way.”
Finn grabbed Benji's forearm and roughly pulled him to his feet. “It's time for you to go. Seriously.”
“Okay, okay,” Benji whined, shaking free of Finn's grip. “You want him all to yourself.” Another lewd stare at Dean Paul. “I can see why.”
Dean Paul made eye contact with Finn.
“Trust me. Introductions are
not
necessary,” Finn explained, red hot with embarrassment and pushing Benji toward the door.
“I'll keep Saturday night wide open,” Benji shouted, more for Dean Paul's benefit than for Finn's. “Don't forget to call me!”
Finn slammed the door and double bolted the lock, then leaned against it with a deep sigh of relief. He glanced down at the floor, barely able to make eye contact. “Long story.”
Dean Paul cracked a smile. “Next time we get hammered, you'll have to tell me all about it.”
Finn loved it whenever Dean Paul spoke in the future tense. His trust in the relationship ... the friendship ... whateverit was ... never managed to solidify. Part of him always feared that Dean Paul might end things automatically. And the recent talk of a Miami move only heightened that fear.
“Tilly called,” Finn announced, anxious to bury the topic of Benji.
Dean Paul nodded. “That's why I'm back. Looks like I'm moving back in.” One beat. “For a night or two at least. She's got this big modeling thing, and the nanny bailed.” He shook his head, deep in thought. “It's crazy.”
“Yeah, she told me.”
“This will be the most time I've ever spent alone with my daughter. I think it'll be cool.” He stepped over to his gym bag and began to push the overflowing contents back inside. “Anyway, thanks for the crash pad. I've probably cramped your style long enough.”
Finn's heart sank at the reality of Dean Paul leaving. Because having him here—sleeping on the couch, junking up the place with his dirty clothes and wet towels—was just like a fantasy ... and probably the closest thing to the kind of relationship Finn dreamed about that would ever be realized.
“I found a realtor in Miami,” Dean Paul announced casually.“She sounds like a go-getter. I'll probably head down there in a few days and look at some places.”
The news killed Finn a little bit. His stomach was instantlyin a million little knots ... and his mind was instantly in hyper-drive, thinking of a way to keep Dean Paul in New York.

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