Party Girl (29 page)

“Nothing to worry about. I’ve explained the situation to Diego, and once he calmed down, he understood that no responsibility would fall on his brand and he was fine. In fact, I dare say, sales of Riverton tequila will triple after this . . . There’s no such thing as bad press after all.”

I grab my shoulder bag and my coat.
She’s going to take responsibility for the situation?
I’m surprised, given how serious it is. Maybe her persona is just that. Maybe she’s not as terrible a person as I thought, because admitting that she’s in the wrong regardless of how it might affect her business just shows how deeply principled she is.

“I’m surprised you’d be willing to do that,” I tell her as I shrug into my parka.

“I’m willing to do whatever is necessary for my company, and I appreciate that you are too.” She smiles. “Now, Brinkley, I don’t want to worry you, but there’s a fair amount of paparazzi and press outside. Security is keeping them in check but, well, with a profile as high as mine is, they’re bound to ask questions. So for now, and over the coming weeks, if anyone asks you questions, just go along with my story and we’ll be fine. Understand?”

I’m more than a little intimidated by the look in her eye and by the idea that anyone in the press might try and ask me anything, so I just nod.

“Good girl.” She pops her sunglasses back on her face, loops her arm through mine once more, and pulls the door open.

All at once we’re rushed by dozens of paparazzi and a couple of them have handheld video cameras. A thousand flashes blind me momentarily. But unlike the other times this week they don’t stop when they see that it’s us; they keep on taking pictures. Everyone is yelling her name and trying to get closer to us as we make our way to the car.

“Selah! Selah—”

“Selah, can you comment on Brian and Katie’s accident?”

“There are rumors they were given the alcohol here—”

“Selah, did you know?”

They all scream over each other at once, and I clutch Selah’s arm tighter. She seems totally unaffected, though, like this is exactly what she’d been expecting. Finally she stops trying to move forward and looks up at them with an indulgent smile.

“Fine, guys, I’ll give you a statement. Just back up a little. You’re stepping on my Louboutins!” she says in her flirty voice and most of the men laugh with her and inch back a step.

I look up at her in a little bit of awe. She’s so composed; I can’t imagine ever fessing up to something with so little fear.

“Last night Brian and Katie did attend one of the parties we produced here. As it was a private event, they were allowed in to celebrate the premiere of the film along with the other guests. While I didn’t see exactly what happened, I’ve heard from more than a few of my staff that the team at Twenty-Five was perhaps a little indulgent with them.”

My head snaps up in shock. The noise of the crowd rises, and Selah raises her hands like Moses parting the Red Sea.

“Now, who knows? Perhaps the bartenders were a little star-struck or just don’t think much of serving minors, but whatever the reasons, it resulted in an unfortunate situation, and we can only be grateful that no one was hurt.”

The camera flashes explode again and everyone starts screaming at once.

“Selah, are you saying that someone from Twenty-Five knowingly served minors?”

Someone shoves a microphone in front of her, and I recognize the reporter from TMZ. Oh God! This is so bad.

Selah smiles at him indulgently. “I’m only telling you what I heard secondhand, but more than one of my staff saw this all happen. Right, Brinkley?” She looks at me calmly. The microphone is shoved in front of my face, and I stare at it in shock. Selah jostles my arm a little. “Isn’t that right, Brinkley?” she asks again with a bite in her tone.

I look at her and then back at the press in front of me, and I know what she wants me to do. It’s something I’ve done a million times for her already. All I have to do is nod my head.

I don’t even have to say any words, just a simple nod like I’ve been trained to do, and this will all be over and we’ll be in the car chatting about my promotion.

It would be so simple, and with the weight of her stare and the press inching closer, I almost do it. I almost agree with the whole thing because that’s so much easier than the alternative.

And then I think about what this will mean for Brody. Because my parents own a restaurant, I know that he’d lose his liquor license and what that would mean for his business. He’d lose everything. It’s not just him either, but Barker-Ash as a whole. Max, Liam, Vivian, and Charlie, an entire family who has worked so hard to build up their company and whose only mistake in all of this is that they trusted the wrong woman with their reputation.

When I was a little girl, Daddy took me to get an ice cream. As we were driving away he looked down in his hand and realized that the kid at the counter had given him too much change. He turned the truck around in the middle of the highway and drove back to give her the difference. I always remember the amount specifically because when he got back in the truck I asked him why he bothered to drive all the way back for four extra dollars. He looked at me very seriously and said, “Kid, your integrity is the only thing they can’t take away from you, and it’s worth a helluvalot more than four bucks.”

As I stand here staring at a sea of photographers, seriously considering taking the easy way out, I wonder at what point in the last four months I stopped being my father’s daughter.

I pull my hand loose from Selah, but I don’t dare look at her when I open my mouth to speak.

“Actually no, that—” I clear my throat. “That’s incorrect.”

I hear Selah gasp, and the flashes come faster now and for some reason it gives me courage.

“Barker-Ash and Riverton Tequila are completely without fault. I watched Ms. Smith get drinks from the bartender herself and serve them to Brian and Katie—”

“You’re a liar!” Selah screams. “She’s sleeping with Brody Ashton and trying to cover for him now!”

I wince internally at what my parents are going to think when they see all of this, but I keep speaking and for some reason feel calm. The worst has happened, my career is over, but I can at least protect my friends on the way out.

“No, that isn’t true.” I shake my head. “I have e-mails from Selah asking me to get a lounge ready for Brian and his friends. There’s a security camera in the back entrance that will have video of her bringing them in and escorting them back out. I’m sure if you speak with the bartender or some of the other staff, they’ll confirm what I’m saying.”

The last of my sentence is lost in the sounds of the press screaming at Selah for comment, but she must know there isn’t anything she can say because she hurries to the back of the town car and slams herself inside. In less than a heartbeat the car has peeled away from the curb and everyone’s attention is back on me.

For a moment I’m frozen in place as they scream questions at me. Only when Joey comes up and physically pulls my elbow towards the building do I break out of my trance. I hurry after him and back inside the safety of the venue to hide. Joey shuts the door behind me and then comes to stand next to me while I try and catch my breath. When I look up at him, he’s smiling.

“Good for you, girl,” he says with a wink.

And the whole thing is so ridiculous and unreal that I can’t think of anything else to do, so I just start laughing.

By the time I land in LA the laughter has worn off, along with the shock of everything that’s happened.

When I get back to the apartment Max is sitting in the living room waiting for me. I am so exhausted and overwhelmed that when I see her get up to walk towards me, I start bawling. Not quiet, ladylike tears, but a full-on breakdown of everything I’ve been holding in the whole way back to LA. When she throws her arms around me, I am so shocked I cry even harder.

“You’re going to be OK,” she says in a soothing voice I didn’t even know she possessed. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’re going to be great.”

“I lost my job,” I sob.

“Landon, seriously. What you did . . . was just . . .” She pushes me out to arm’s length so she can look into my eyes. “Everyone in my family is so grateful . . . especially Brody. He’s called me four times already because your phone is off.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” I wipe my cheeks with my sleeve.

Max looks a little sad. “He told me what he said to you—”

“I didn’t do anything with Taylor! I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen to me—”

“I know . . . He knows. I told him he was an idiot. He’s really sorry, Landon, I swear.”

“I can’t talk about this right now.” I sniff. “I’ve spent the cab ride home trying to explain this whole situation to my parents, but they’re both so upset. I can’t handle anything else. I just need to go to bed.”

Max nods, but when I walk down the hall she follows after me. As I walk into my room she grabs my hand, stopping me in place, and looks at me seriously.

“Thank you,” she says sincerely.

I don’t have any more words, so I give her a jerky nod, then walk into the room and shut the door behind me.

Chapter TWENTY-FIVE

I spend the next week in bed. I rarely leave my room; if I do, it is only when I’m sure Max is at work. I call my parents once a day so they won’t worry, but beyond that I don’t turn on my phone. I don’t answer when Max knocks on my door. I keep the curtains drawn and mostly cry and sleep.

I don’t know how my life has taken such a drastic and ugly turn, but I don’t even recognize myself anymore. Being an event planner is all I’ve ever wanted to do, and there is no way that’s possible anymore. Selah promised to ruin me for a lot less than publicly damning her company, and I am terrified of her retribution.

When I’m not worrying about Selah, I torture myself remembering all the things that Brody said to me that day in the snow and the look on his face when he saw me in the kitchen laughing with Taylor. I eventually cry myself back to sleep.

I wake up one day to the sound of my doorknob jiggling. I’ve barely registered the sound when the door bursts open. Miko is on her knees, holding a bobby pin, and Max is standing next to her. A flicker of pity washes across Max’s face before being erased with her token scowl.

“All right,” she says, striding over to my drapes and throwing them open. “We’ve let you wallow, and now it’s time to get out of bed!”

I squeeze my eyes shut as bright sunlight fills the room, then roll over to face the opposite wall.

“Leave me alone. I’m not in the mood,” I whisper.

“Come on, Landon. I’m all for a good dramatic shut-in, but it’s been over a week. You can’t stay here forever.” I feel Miko sit down on my bed. “Come on, I brought you a latte. I even went all the way to Intelligentsia to get you the good stuff.” She shakes a bag. “And a blueberry scone!”

I stay right where I am, and I hear her sigh. When she speaks again her voice is quieter.

“We’re really worried about you. Please get up.”

It reminds me of the things Brody said.

You’re depressed for weeks and your friends try to help and you’re rude to them. But that’s not your fault, right? They should have left you alone?

I slowly roll over and sit up in bed.

“Atta girl,” Miko says, handing me the coffee and the scone.

My eyes are swollen, my mouth is dry, and I haven’t showered in days. I can only imagine what I look like right now. I take a sip of the latte. It’s chai and it’s perfect. I nibble the edge of the scone and for a minute nobody speaks. Finally, Max comes and sits down on the bed next to Miko in a huff.

“This is the part where you talk to us about what’s going on,” she says, annoyed.

I nod but keep my eyes down, watching my fingers tear the scone into little pieces.

“I’m going to go home, back to Texas,” I say quietly.

“Are you kidding?” Miko demands, at the same time Max yells, “Like hell you are!”

I look up at them in shock.

“Don’t you get it?” I demand. “I can’t handle it here! I’m not strong enough for LA; I can’t keep up. I thought I could come and that I’d be brave enough or smart enough, to—I don’t know, do something big with my life. But I’m not!” I didn’t think I had any tears left in me, but they are running down my cheeks, mocking me. “All I did was screw everything up and embarrass myself, and I just want to go home!”

“You’re one of the smartest girls I’ve ever met,” Miko says seriously. “You went from intern to assistant with hardly any training, and you never missed a beat. You covered the holiday parties and you absolutely ran the event space at Sundance. You’re twenty-three, and you managed a staff of forty people and multiple events for ten days straight. That’s epic, Landon; how do you not see that?”

Max speaks up. “You stood in front of the press with Selah breathing down your neck, and you did the right thing even though you knew you’d lose your job. That’s not just brave, that’s valiant.”

I give them a small, sad smile. “It doesn’t matter, though. She promised I’d never find a job working at another event company, and I believe her. Even if she doesn’t try and ruin my reputation, every other firm will know I was a snitch. No one will hire me.”

“Then start your own company, Landon. Don’t be stupid.” It is Max’s version of a motivational speech, and it is so ridiculous an idea that I laugh outright.

“Oh sure, because that’s so easy,” I say sarcastically.

“You have a laptop and a cell phone and the necessary connections. What else do you need?” Max asks.

“I couldn’t do that—I need years of experience, I need—” I stutter.

“You managed to figure out everything this far. It can’t be that hard, can it?”

“But I’d never find any clients, nobody knows who I am,” I try to argue.

“Are you crazy? You just outed one of the biggest celebrity event planners on national TV.
Everybody
knows who you are!” Max says, exasperated.

“And besides,” Miko says as she smiles at me, “if you don’t start your own firm, where else am I gonna find a job?”

“You didn’t . . .” I stare at her in utter disbelief.

“I did,” she squeals, “and it was spectacular! I told her at least four different places she could shove her bad attitude and then I stormed out in a huff!”

“No!” I am laughing now with her. Lord, I would have loved to see that.

“Yes! And I will tell you all about it, but first you have to take a shower because you look like a Garbage Pail Kid.”

Miko stands up and tugs on my hand. For the first time in days I feel the smallest flutter of hope, but just as quickly it’s squashed. That naivete is what got me here in the first place.

“You guys, this is impossible. Do you remember what you told me? This town was gonna chew me up and spit me out, and it did! I don’t have it in me to keep trying!”

I fall back down on the edge of the bed, defeated, but Max is already pulling me back up.

“And you remember what you told us?” she says, getting in my face. “That you were going to love proving us wrong! So stop whining, go brush your goddamn teeth, and let’s come up with some kind of plan!”

I look between the two of them: at Miko, who’s beaming at me like the sun, and at Max, who looks like she’s close to punching me for my own good. The three of us could not be more different, and yet for some reason God saw fit to bring these weird, lovely girls into my life.

Right now it doesn’t feel like I’ve got much going for me at all, but I’ve got these girls. Strange and odd and incongruous as they are, they’re still here, willing me to believe in myself . . . And so I do.