L. A. Candy (19 page)

On Monday morning, after getting miked, Jane had two surprises waiting for her at work. She had a new office
and
a new officemate.

“This is Hannah,” TV Fiona said, introducing Jane to a tall, slim girl with a slick honey-blond ponytail and intelligent brown eyes. (“TV Fiona” is how Jane had started mentally referring to her boss when she could tell she had scheduled hair and makeup for the days the cameras were there.) Hannah was sitting at a desk across from where someone (little elves?) had moved Jane’s desk during the weekend, along with her Mac, her disorganized filing cabinets, and her sad, half-dead plant. The two desks faced each other, with a wide aisle in between. The office was three times as big as her previous office/storage closet. Two
L.A. Candy
guys were shooting in the corners, their cameras arcing between Jane, Hannah, and Fiona. At least those guys would have a little more space now.

“Hey.” Jane shook Hannah’s hand as she surveyed her outfit: navy, high-waisted pants, a white silk blouse, and a single strand of long pearls. Hmm, conservative, but pretty.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Hannah said. She had a sweet, friendly smile.

“Hannah’s going to be here part-time, helping me—and you—with some of our events,” Fiona explained.

“Great!” Jane said enthusiastically even though she was wondering if it really took
two
people to pick up dry cleaning, lunch, raw honey, or whatever not-TV-Fiona wanted.

“I thought you could fill her in on our day-to-day schedule. Why don’t you start her on the phones and filing system, and then I’ll see you both in my office in an hour,” Fiona said.

“Sure,” Jane and Hannah said at the same time.

“And Jane? Don’t forget, Anna Payne’s going to be here at three.”

“Yes, of course.”

After Fiona left, Jane turned to Hannah. If the girl was impressed by the mention of Anna Payne’s name, she didn’t show it. “Sooo. Is this your first job in event planning?” Jane asked her.

“No. It’s my second,” Hannah said. She studied the Mac on her desk and switched it on. She picked up the phone on her desk, pressed some buttons, and nodded to herself. “I used to be an intern at David Sutton’s.”

Jane recognized the name immediately. David Sutton was probably Fiona’s top competition in the L.A. market. “Why’d you leave?”

“I interned there for, like, a year. David was awesome, but he couldn’t hire me. He warned me that working for Fiona could be rough, but this seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up. Might as well get out of my comfort zone and challenge myself. Know what I mean?”

Jane’s eyes widened. Hannah’s words reminded her of the things she had said to Wendell and Dana during her
L.A. Candy
interview. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean,” she said with genuine enthusiasm this time.

Jane spent the next half hour showing Hannah the phones and filing. But Hannah was a quick study, and she hardly needed to be trained. She was already familiar with most of the office systems.

She also seemed to be a quick study in front of the cameras. She didn’t look nervous or self-conscious at all.
Some people are just naturals at this,
Jane decided.

“So. What part of L.A. do you live in?” Jane asked her, making conversation as they sat at their respective desks, sorting through piles of caterers’ bills.

“Third Street by the Grove. How about you?”

“Oh, I live in West Hollywood, too. Right by there. At the Palazzo.”

Hannah whistled. “Wow, I live in the Villas. We’re neighbors. I love that area.”

“Yeah, my roommate and I are pretty lucky to have
found it,” Jane agreed, not mentioning that
Trevor
had found it—and that PopTV was paying for it.

Hannah stared at her computer screen. She was no doubt admiring the screensaver of the fat Buddha figure, Jane thought in amusement.

“So do you live with a boyfriend roommate or a
roommate
roommate?” Hannah asked after a moment. “Sorry, is that personal?”

“No, not at all.” Jane laughed, wondering if Hannah didn’t really know or if she was just asking for the sake of the cameras. Not that Jane had started assuming everyone knew who she was, but she figured Hannah might know since she was being filmed and would likely show up on
L.A. Candy
soon enough. Signing a release may have even been part of the application process. “I live with my friend Scarlett. I don’t have a boyfriend. There’s a guy I’m kinda dating, but we’re not, like, together.” She blushed happily, thinking about Jesse.

Hannah grinned. “Ooh, you’re all glowy. What’s his name?”

“Jesse.”

“How long have you guys been dating?”

“Just a couple of weeks,” Jane replied. “The thing is…” She hesitated.

“Yeah?” Hannah leaned forward.

Jane shook her head. She didn’t want to tell Hannah, whom she’d just met an hour ago, about the details of her relationship (could she even
call
it a relationship yet?)
with Jesse or about her friends’ feelings about him. Sadly, Scarlett continued to have a bad attitude about him—and she had no problem expressing her criticisms whenever she was at the apartment. Which wasn’t much, lately. (Was school really keeping her
that
busy?) Even Madison and Gaby seemed to be against him. Madison had called her a few days ago, telling her to “be careful.” Gaby had texted her and said she personally knew five girls he’d gone out with and dumped within days. And of course, Braden had made his opinion of her and Jesse abundantly clear.

But Jane felt like her friends were dead wrong. So far, he was nothing like his old tabloid image. When they were together, his eyes never strayed from her. He treated her so well. And on Friday night after Arclight, when he’d dropped her off at her apartment, he’d whispered in her ear that she was different from any other girl he’d ever met. He’d said she was special.

Jane hadn’t told anyone that yet, because she knew how everyone would react. But Hannah didn’t know Jesse or Scarlett or Madison or Gaby. She was an outsider, which meant that she could be objective. Maybe Hannah was the perfect person to talk to about this.

“Anna, this is my assistant, Jane Roberts. Jane, this is Anna. Jane’s going to be helping out with your New Year’s Eve party,” Fiona explained.

Jane stood in the doorway of the conference room, staring at the stunningly beautiful actress who was sitting
across the table from Fiona. She wondered if Anna would remember their encounter at Les Deux. Or maybe she’d been too drunk that night to remember anything. On the other side of the room, a camera guy adjusted a knob before zooming in on Jane.

Anna smiled at Jane. The tabloids had dubbed it the “million-dollar smile” because of her full lips and perfect teeth. Jane couldn’t help but be dazzled by it, even though the woman had been a total bitch to her at the club. “Pleasure to meet you, Jane,” Anna said.

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” Jane said, smiling back.

“Jane, why don’t you sit down and talk to us about venues?” Fiona said.

“Sure.” Jane took a seat next to Fiona, then pulled out her notebook and opened it to the first page.

“I did some research, and I came up with some possibilities,” Jane began. “One idea is to have it on a boat.” Neither Anna nor Fiona reacted at all, so Jane went on. “Or Rick’s Place at the Hotel Figueroa downtown, which is a cool area.” More blank stares. “Another idea is a rooftop at the SLS Hotel. I was thinking since we have nice weather in winter, might as well take advantage of it.”

Anna’s blue eyes lit up. “Love it! Jane, you’re
good
.”

Jane blushed. “Thanks.”

“Maybe I should run it by Noah.” Anna reached into her enormous silver Prada bag and pulled out her cell.

While Anna was busy with her call, Fiona turned to
Jane and gave her a thumbs-up sign. Huh? When did the boss lady start giving the thumbs-up sign? When the meeting was over, the camera guy took some quick shots of their good-byes and handshakes as they exited the conference room together.

As soon as the cameras were off, Anna glanced over her shoulder at Jane. She smiled and winked. “Just wanted to say—
love
your show,” she gushed.

“That’s nice of you, thanks! I’m a big fan of yours, too!” Jane replied.
Oh my God.
She couldn’t wait to tell Lacie and Nora, who were both huge Anna Payne fans, about this meeting.

Anna waved good-bye and headed down the hall past dozens of cubicles, seemingly oblivious to the wake of worshiping stares she was leaving in her path. As Jane watched her go, she thought about the irony of it all. Just a few months ago, Anna Payne had blown her off big-time at Les Deux. Now she was one of Jane’s fans. It seemed unbelievable to her.

Veronica thumbed through the photos that her favorite staff photographer, Manny, had just delivered. Jane Roberts getting into a Range Rover, Jesse Edwards grasping her arm protectively. The couple exiting Café Luxxe in Santa Monica, holding hands. Standing close together, buying popcorn at the Arclight.

Veronica went through the stack a second time. Excellent. She selected three from the pile. They would make a lovely spread. She made a note to reserve two full pages.

“Veronica?” It was her annoying little assistant, Diego. “Madison Parker here to see you.”

Madison Parker? What did that publicity hound want now? Madison had approached Veronica at a movie premiere and introduced herself. Since then, she had been to the
Gossip
office a couple of times to see her, trying to peddle “juicy inside stories” in exchange for puff pieces about her own “rising career.” Unfortunately, Madison’s
idea of “juicy” never amounted to much. And her “rising career”? Girls like her were a dime a dozen in L.A. She was lucky if she had a future selling Cellulite Busterz or organic cat food on the Home Shopping Network. Still, Veronica knew from experience that a good piece of info sometimes came from the unlikeliest of sources.
You never know what you’ll find in the trash.

“Fine. Send her in.”

A moment later, Madison breezed through the door. As always, she was immaculately dressed—this time in a formfitting pearl gray dress with a plunging V neckline.

“Veronica,” Madison said pleasantly as she slid smoothly into a leather chair. “Thanks so much for seeing me.”

“I have a meeting in five minutes.”

“No problem,” Madison said. “I just wanted to pass on some information that you might find…interesting.”

Veronica straightened some papers on her desk. “Yes? What?”

Madison leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “It’s about Gaby Garcia. She was at Les Deux last night for the
Dead at Dusk
video game launch party and she totally went home with Aaron Daly. I have pictures of them all over each other.”

“Madison,” Veronica said flatly. “Why you think I’d care about the questionable mating habits of Hollywood nothings is beyond me.”

Veronica watched as Madison went through what looked like the five stages of grief before her beady little
eyes landed on the spread of pictures on the desk—pictures of her costar Jane Roberts. Veronica noticed how the wannabe starlet’s eyes narrowed.
Isn’t that interesting?

“You and Jane are good friends, right?” Veronica asked.

Madison looked up. She seemed to consider this, and then said, “You’ve seen the show. What do you think?”

Getting snippy with me isn’t going to get you in the mag, honey.
“Let me put it this way: How badly do you want to be profiled in
Gossip
?” Veronica asked. She knew she was taking a risk, but after years in Hollywood, she also knew how powerful a motivator jealousy was. And somewhere in the sweet little story about Jane and Jesse’s sweet little romance, there was a time bomb waiting to go off. It was up to Veronica to be there at the very second it happened, so
Gossip
could be the first to run it—in full, fabulous, gory detail. And if by some chance there wasn’t a time bomb after all…well, creating explosions was something Veronica was very, very good at.

Staying true to form, Madison barely hesitated before asking, “What do I have to do?”

“Find out what is really going on with Jesse and Jane,” Veronica said. “There is no way he
isn’t
cheating on her. I want names and I want photos.”

Madison seemed to consider this. “I could do that.”

“Good.” Veronica glanced pointedly at her watch. “Don’t come back until you have something.”

“Fine.”

Veronica waited until the girl was gone before allowing herself a slow, satisfied smile. She had an instinct that this arrangement just might yield results, and her instincts were usually dead-on.
That little nobody might be good for something.

“I’m nervous,” Jane whispered to Scarlett as they headed into Goa. One of the
L.A. Candy
cameramen was at the door, filming their entrance.

Scarlett looked her up and down. “Why? You look so pretty in that dress, and those peep-hole shoes are hot.”

“Peep-
toe,
” Jane corrected Scarlett, smoothing her black silk minidress. Scarlett prided herself on being ignorant about fashion. On the other hand, ever since
L.A. Candy
had been on the air, Jane had gotten all sorts of free dresses and shoes to wear—including the ones she had on now—from publicists representing various designers. It was all so they could get that coveted line in a magazine, “Jane Roberts at Il Sole, wearing a black minidress by so-and-so designer.” Jane had begun ripping the address sticker off the front of the boxes and saying they had been sent for
both
girls. It didn’t really make a difference because
most of the things that were sent, Scarlett was more likely to bury in her closet than actually wear. Tonight, Scar was dressed in her usual jeans paired with a black silk tee. “It’s just that it’s the first time my friends and Jesse are gonna hang out, you know?” Jane went on. “Not to mention we’re totally late.
And
it’s his birthday. So I want everyone to have a good time and get along.”

Scarlett put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “Translation: You don’t want me to be a bitch to him.”

Jane stared meaningfully at her friend. “Something like that.”

“Got it.”

Really?
Jane thought. Lately Scar had been even more stubborn and difficult than usual. These days, Jane was having a hard time connecting with her best friend and confiding in her about stuff—especially her relationship with Jesse. They’d driven to Santa Barbara together last Thursday to have Thanksgiving dinner with their respective families. Scar had made so many sarcastic comments about Jesse on the way up that Jane felt like she had to say something. There was something about driving that made having difficult conversations easier.

“I know you don’t trust Jesse because of his reputation,” Jane had said to Scarlett. “But I’m the one who’s been dating him for the last month. Don’t you think I’d know better than the tabloids? Why can’t you be happy for me?”

Scarlett had been quiet for a few moments, staring out the window, and Jane wasn’t sure if she was going to
respond. Then finally Scarlett turned to her and said, “Okay. You’re right. I’ll give him a chance. If he’s the person you say he is, then I’m happy for you.”

They had left it at that. And Scarlett hadn’t made any nasty remarks about Jesse since. But she hadn’t been particularly
warm
to him the few times he’d been over either. Jane could tell Scarlett hadn’t changed her mind about Jesse, but she was trying to keep her criticisms to herself.

If Scarlett doesn’t behave tonight…
Jane didn’t finish her thought. She wasn’t sure where she was going with this. Would she give Scar an ultimatum, like start being nice to Jesse or we’re not friends anymore? That seemed kind of extreme. Still, in more ways than one, it felt like she and Scarlett had been drifting apart lately. Was it just a phase they were going through or something more?

Once inside, Jane tucked her red clutch under her arm and glanced around, looking for Jesse’s table.

“Can I help you?” a server dressed all in black asked her.

“I’m looking for Jesse Edwards’s table.”

“Right this way.”

The waiter led Jane and Scarlett upstairs, to a more intimate room, where Jesse sat at a corner table covered with piles of presents and colorful cocktails. Two set lights hung overhead. Several
L.A. Candy
cameras were already there, shooting.

“Jane!” Jesse called out, waving. He quickly stood up, looking a little unstable, but still totally gorgeous in his
black suit and white collared shirt with no tie.

Jane smiled uncertainly at him. She and Scarlett were only twenty minutes late, but in that time Jesse had clearly gotten a head start on the birthday cocktails. He seemed…drunk. She had seen him drink before. But they had spent most of their nights at quiet restaurants and movies, not clubs.

Jane went up to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Happy birthday,” she whispered in his ear.

Jesse clasped her in a hug. It felt too tight, too intense. “I’m sooo fucking happy you’re here,” he whispered back, his words sounding slightly muffled. “It wasn’t a party until you got here. Hey, let me introduce you to my friends.”

“’Kay,” Jane said. She wasn’t sure what to make of Jesse’s…
state.
On the other hand, it
was
his birthday. His twenty-first, in fact. Maybe the guy was entitled. It’s just that she would have felt a little more comfortable if the whole thing wasn’t being filmed.
Relax, Jane,
she told herself.

She turned and surveyed the table. Madison and Gaby were already there, sitting on the other end. Madison’s magenta satin strapless sheath contrasted with the pale pink of Gaby’s baby-doll dress. They both blew kisses at her, then returned to flirting with two cute guys with identical buzz haircuts.

On the other side of the two guys were D and Hannah, whom Jane had invited at the last minute. She
was glad they’d made it.

“Hi, sweeties!” D called out, toasting Jane and Scarlett with his dirty martini. Was that a purple velvet smoking jacket he was sporting? “You are both to
die
for. And Jane? Your new friend Hannah here? Love!”

“Hi, Jane!” Hannah said, smiling shyly. She looked really pretty in a mocha shift dress with a loose bow accenting the V neckline.

“Hey, guys! Hannah, this is my friend Scarlett I told you about. Scar, this is Hannah, from the office,” Jane said.

“Hi, Hannah-from-the-office. Nice to meet you,” Scarlett said, waving.

Jane sucked in a breath when she spotted who was sitting across from D and Hannah. Braden. And next to him, Willow. Jane and Braden locked eyes for a moment. He smiled and gave her a little wave. She smiled back. Seeing Willow at his side, it occurred to Jane that maybe his silence or distance or absence or whatever had nothing to do with her and Jesse. Maybe he’d just been too busy with Willow.

“…and these are my boys from high school, Antonio, Nelson, Howard, and Zach,” Jesse was saying, pointing to the two guys with the same haircut and two other guys sitting near them. “And this is Tracey—”

“Trish,” the girl—a striking blonde—corrected him with a giggle.

“Sorry, Trish, Winona, Ella, Starlie, and Lela,” Jesse finished, going down a row of cute, mostly blond girls. “You already know Braden and Willow. Hey, everybody, this is Jane. And this is her friend Scarlett.”

“Hey,” Jane said, waving politely.

“So I’m gonna need a drink and a seat, birthday boy,” Scarlett told Jesse. Jane smiled to herself. Good. At least Scar was trying.

“Straight to the point, huh? My kinda girl. Come, you sit next to me,” Jesse said, taking Scarlett’s hand and pulling her in his direction.

Jane frowned, confused. At that moment, Madison raised her cell phone in the air and snapped a quick picture of Jesse and Scarlett. “Scarlett, love your shirt!” Madison called out cheerfully.

Scarlett ignored Madison and glanced at Jane, then Jesse. “Uh…not that I want to deny you on your special day but that’s Jane’s seat. I’m gonna sit over there,” she said, pointing to the end of the table where D was enthusiastically waving her over.

“Sure, whatever! Zach, I gotta go to the men’s room. You gotta go to the men’s room?”

“Yeah, man, I gotta go to the men’s room.” The guy named Zach rose from his seat and nodded his head in the direction of the bathrooms. He and Jesse disappeared before Jane had even had a chance to sit down.

Jane stared after them and took her seat. What the hell
was going on? Why had Jesse asked Scarlett to sit next to him? And since when did guys go to the bathroom together? She twisted a lock of her hair around her finger. This was
not
how she had imagined the evening. Not at all. She gripped her clutch nervously, and felt the outlines of her birthday present to Jesse inside.

Jane ordered a vodka soda from the server and sunk back into the couch. She watched one of the flickering lights on the table as the conversation and laughter rose and swelled around her. Five minutes passed, then ten. Various people asked her questions (“How long have you and Jesse been dating?” “Where’d you get that dress?” “Do you live in L.A.?”), and she was vaguely aware of answering them, but her mind was totally not present. Where was Jesse? He had been gone for almost fifteen minutes. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane noticed Braden watching her. He looked…worried. Sympathetic.

Feeling more uncomfortable by the minute, Jane started scanning the restaurant for Jesse. She spotted him from the balcony, weaving through the busy tables down below. He had his arm around some tall blond girl with serious boobs. Zach was following right behind, sandwiched between two tall, busty blondes of his own. Jane felt as though she had been kicked in the stomach. She bit her lip, trying not to cry. She turned her head to see if anyone else had noticed. She saw that Scarlett had spotted him as well. D and Hannah were both looking over at her
with worried expressions.
Great, I have an audience for my humiliation,
she thought. Madison was pushing buttons on her cell phone and seemed oblivious.

Scarlett got up from her seat and rushed over to Jane. “Jane? You wanna go? This party’s lame,” she said in a low, angry voice.

Jane rose uncertainly to her feet. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom first,” she mumbled. “Just wait for me here?” She took off just as Jesse and his entourage arrived at the table. She didn’t want to be there for
that.

When she got to the women’s bathroom, there was a long line of pissed-off-looking girls. “This sucks. Why do clubs always have at least one broken stall?” one girl complained.

“If this keeps up, I’m gonna pee in that fancy potted plant over there,” another girl piped up.

“Do your coke somewhere else!” a third girl shouted at the closed door marked
W
.

Ignoring the commotion, Jane crossed her arms over her chest and waited. She tried not to think about Jesse. In their few short weeks together, he had been practically perfect. She had come
this close
to falling for him. She knew he liked to drink. So did she. But she had never seen him drink this much. And she had never seen him even look at another girl, much less let one hang all over him. What had changed? Or was this the real Jesse?

Jane’s head was spinning as she finally stepped inside the bathroom and shut the door. Once alone, she leaned
over the cold, white porcelain toilet for several minutes, oblivious to the long line of impatient girls outside, oblivious to everything but the anxiety welling up inside her. Her face felt hot, sweaty. Her palms were shaking.
Deep breaths,
she told herself. But deep breathing did nothing to quell the rising tide of panic. She felt so sick. She felt a wave of nausea overtake her.

It was pitch-black outside when Jane woke up to the sound of her cell ringing on her nightstand. She groaned sleepily, reached over, and checked the number. Jesse. Again. He had been calling and texting her all night.

“Leave me alone,” Jane mumbled at the phone, and tossed it on the floor.

Jane felt awful. She was so mad at Jesse for making her look pathetic in front of everyone. But she was even madder at herself. She had ignored what everyone had said and allowed Jesse to do the same thing to her that he had probably done to every other girl he’d dated.

What was so hard was that despite his behavior, she still cared about him. He had hurt her, but a part of her still wanted to see him again.

You idiot,
Jane thought to herself as she looked at the wrapped present on the floor.

There was a framed picture of them inside. The picture was from one of those cheesy photo booths (she and Jesse had gone into one after seeing a movie together). The photo—four photos, actually—was a skinny strip of goofy
black-and-whites: Jane and Jesse smiling; Jane and Jesse laughing; Jane and Jesse kissing; Jesse and Jane kissing some more and holding up their palms, as if to shield themselves from the paparazzi. The photos were so…
them.
Jane had framed the strip herself, wrapped the whole thing in pretty wrapping paper, and tucked it into her purse, to give to him after his birthday party, when they were alone.

It was her silly-shy-totally-awkward-Jane way of telling him how she felt about him. Because she was—or at least, she
had
been—pretty sure that he felt the same way about her.

Her phone started ringing again. Jane reached down and turned it off. Then threw it at the wall, hoping it would break into a million tiny pieces.