The Ashley Project (15 page)

Watching Lili pull on A. A.'s pigtails and Ashley make bunny ears behind her two friends, as they laughed and pushed each other, Lauren forgot all about sabotaging their clique. All she wanted right then, more than anything in the world, was to be one of them.

“I'M HUNGRY,” A. A. ANNOUNCED
as the four of them left the shoe store. She checked her watch. It seemed like it had been hours since they'd gotten off the plane, and really, all they'd eaten that day couldn't constitute a real meal.

“There's a restaurant down here that's pretty good,” Lauren suggested meekly.

“Let's go,” urged A. A., before Ashley and Lili could disagree. They followed Lauren to a pretty little cottage tucked in the middle of the street. As with the earlier store, there was a mob scene in front of the place, with a ceaseless stream of expensive automobiles pulling up to the sidewalk, an army of photographers staked out
on either side of the entrance, and a rash of curious onlookers milling around with the restaurant's bona fide clientele. These seemed to include a large number of people hiding behind hats, caps, and sunglasses, which could only indicate major celebrity presence.

“Check out the hotties!” A. A. said, marveling at the brilliant smiles of several incredibly good-looking guys all dressed in neat blue button-down shirts, pressed khakis, and rakish striped neckties. A group of them were standing in front of a white picket fence. “Is a prep school nearby?”

“Um, they're valets,” Lauren explained. “This is the Ivy.”

“Oh. Nice!” A. A. smiled. She'd heard of the Ivy, of course, but had never been and instantly felt cheerful. Not just because of the celeb factor—she'd heard the food at the Ivy was pretty good, at least it should be better than the New Age tofu joints her mother always dragged her to every time they were in Los Angeles.

Lauren walked straight to the front of the line, and A. A. noted how she was greeted warmly by the maître d'. That girl sure had changed. Last year Lauren was so shy she could barely even speak up when the teachers called on her in class. Now she was maneuvering through a crowded Hollywood restaurant like she owned
it. Not to mention that she knew Billy Reddy, and her driver might just be laxjock. It was like some geek-to-goddess story. A. A. wondered where Dex had gone for the afternoon. She was disappointed that he hadn't hung around. But maybe it was for the best, since today was all about girl-bonding.

The maître d' led them to a sun-dappled table in the front patio, and several diners at the adjoining table looked up to see who they were. A. A. hoped they weren't too disappointed when they saw that the girls were nobody, although from the way Ashley and Lili were walking, you'd think they were People's Choice Award winners.

“My dad took us here for lunch last time,” Lauren said, opening a leather-bound menu. “Try the Cobb salad, it's fantastic.” At that moment their waiter, easily the most handsome guy A. A. had seen in the last few minutes, appeared to take their order.

“Four Cobb salads?” he asked. “Let me guess, dressing on the side?”

The four of them nodded. A. A. figured they were all too dazzled by his beauty to speak.

“Is it just me? Or are the regular people in L.A. a lot more good-looking than the regular people anywhere else?” Lili asked.

“Everyone's prettier here,” agreed Lauren. “Maybe it's in the water.”

“Totally.” Ashley nodded. “This is where we belong.”

“Maybe we should move here,” A. A. said, taking a sip of her iced tea. “For the valets alone.” She looked around the restaurant, enjoying the warmth of the day and experiencing a pleasant buzz from being near so many famous and beautiful people. She was about to take another sip from her glass when she felt a sharp kick from underneath the table. Lili jumped too, upsetting her glass of lemonade. Ashley, of course.

“What?” asked A. A., a bit irritated now that her shin was throbbing. Ashley had been so weird all day, especially about shopping. She was usually unstoppable, but all she'd bought today was some ridiculous plastic cup. She was glad she'd bought Ashley and Lili the shoes. Her mother never even checked the bills—she just forwarded them straight to her ex-husband's secretary. A. A.'s clothing allowance was funded by child support.

She followed Ashley's eyes and saw a lanky, towheaded guy walking toward them. Only a movie star as famous as Rake Parkins could get away with wearing a T-shirt that read “Just Another Rich Kid,” along with
jeans that were so holey they dragged on the floor. He was wildly and excessively handsome to the point of being almost too pretty.

Lili's eyes grew wide, and A. A. giggled behind her drink.

Rake stopped right at their table and, to A. A.'s growing amazement, said hello to Lauren. She introduced them one by one, but they were so starstruck that even Ashley couldn't manage more than a mumbled “Hello.”

“How. Do. You. Know. Rake. Parkins. Question mark,” Ashley demanded when Rake left.

“My dad invested in his new movie. He came over to our house a couple of times over the summer. He's really sweet, and he and his girlfriend have the cutest baby,” Lauren said, taking a warm roll from the bread basket and buttering it heavily. She acted as if it were a fact of life that her social life revolved around movie stars.

Then she giggled, and A. A. began to truly like her for the first time. “You know, when I first met Rake I almost peed in my pants,” Lauren admitted. “But after a couple of days of having him as a houseguest, I realized he's just a normal guy. He was so messy. He would leave wet towels and half-empty cups of coffee everywhere. And he expected everyone to pick up after him.”

“Omigod, I'd totally take one of Rake's wet towels,” Ashley offered.

“Me too,” added Lili. Lili's name should be Me Too instead of Lili, A. A. thought.

The too-handsome-to-be-just-a-waiter waiter returned with their salads. The girls dug in, and A. A. noticed that Ashley was picking at hers like she always did, inspecting it from every angle, turning over every piece of spring lettuce and crumbled blue cheese as methodically as a CSI investigator brushing carpet fibers.

“Is something wrong with your food?” Lauren asked, looking concerned.

“No,” said Ashley sharply, exchanging a meaningful glance with A. A.

“Ashley always does this, don't worry,” A. A. told Lauren as Ashley cleared her throat, called the waiter over, and whispered something to him that only A. A. could hear.

“No, ma'am,” the waiter said, shaking his head.

“You're sure?” Ashley asked.

“Yes, ma'am.”

Ashley eyed the waiter and looked at the salad suspiciously, and only after a long time did she begin to eat.

A. A. was about to ask Lauren if any other movie stars
had stayed in her house when Lili's phone rang. “Oh, hi, Tommy,” Lili said, in her most professional tone of voice. She gave the other girls a thumbs-up. “Yes. It's Friday night. Don't forget, okay? Fri-day night. The fifth day of the week. I gave you the address yesterday. Don't tell me you already lost it? Okay, I'll give it to you again.”

“DJ Tommy?” asked A. A., once Lili had gotten off the phone.

“Who's DJ Tommy?” Lauren wanted to know.

“He's only, like, the best DJ in the city, hello,” Ashley said.

“Except he's supremely flaky. He did my brother's friend's bar mitzvah and showed up so late the party was almost over,” A. A. reminded them.

“Lil, make sure he gets there on time,” said Ashley.

“Don't worry, I'm on it. I told him the dance starts at two.”

A. A. knew Lili would get it done. Nothing seemed to be impossible with Lili and her Blackberry. She could probably plan the takeover of a small country with that thing.

They were done with their salads and had moved on to the fruit cobbler (four spoons) when a familiar blonde crashed into their table.

“I hope you guys don't mind,” Daphne Shepard said breathlessly. “But the pap patrol is out there and I don't want them to see me with Rake.” She waved at Rake Parkins across the patio. “Is it okay if I leave the restaurant with you?”

Was it okay?

First off, Daphne was now dating Rake? What happened to the model girlfriend and the baby? Major inside information! Secondly, they had to pretend to be her posse? Could that be any more awesome? This was so much better than reading
Us Weekly
. They were living it.

“But here's the thing,” Daphne said. “My driver's stuck in traffic, and I told Rake I'd meet him at the Mondrian in five minutes. I wouldn't ask, but . . .”

“We have a car,” Lauren assured her.

“Why don't we have Dex pull up right in front of the restaurant and make sure the car's running when we all get in?” A. A. suggested smoothly. “And then we can just drop you off at the hotel.” This was just like when her mom had to dodge the scandal sheets when she was caught leaving the lipo clinic last year. Her mom had taught her all about how to make an effective exit when photographers were involved. Keep moving with your
head down, and never look directly at the camera. She looked at Lauren. “Where is Dex?”

“He's parked right across the street,” said Lauren. “You think he'd let a valet drive that car? Let me tell him the plan.”

A few minutes later, all four girls surrounded Daphne as they exited the restaurant to a torrent of flashbulbs, hotfooting it to the Cadillac, where Dex had put up the roof for extra security. After making sure everyone was inside, A. A. slammed the door behind her. “Go, go, go!” she yelled to Dex, who winked at her from the driver's seat.

A. A. smiled at Daphne, who was already on the phone with her clandestine boyfriend. She marveled that it was true what they said—in Hollywood stars really fell out of the sky, or in their case, on your dessert.

IT WAS ALREADY DARK WHEN
they arrived back in San Francisco, and Lili was exhausted, but it was a good exhausted, the kind that came from spending a great day with your friends blowing through way too much money, eating way too many things that were bad for you, and knowing you would do it all again if you could. The four girls were zombies on the flight back to the city, but when they arrived at the Pages' mansion in the marina, Lili could feel their energy return.

Lili loved sleepover parties, especially since her parents never let her throw them because they were too worried her friends would be too loud and wake up her baby sisters. A. A. sometimes had them over, and
they'd spy on A. A.'s brother and his friends and order room service all night, but mostly they had sleepovers at Ashley's house, because they
always
hung out at Ashley's house.

Even for Lili's twelfth birthday, she had to get ready for her party at Ashley's house instead of her own, because Ashley wanted to “surprise” her with a gift before the party. The gift turned out to be a framed photograph of Ashley. Lili kept it in a drawer in her bathroom next to the toilet. Just for once Lili would love to get ready at her own house instead of having to drag all her makeup and her ceramic flat iron (which weighed a ton) to Ashley's.

Okay, so maybe her mom could be a little strict. Maybe hanging out at her house wouldn't be as fun anyway, since they weren't allowed to watch anything but PBS, and they had to use the computer in the kitchen only.

She followed as Lauren led the way to her bedroom, which was two stories. Upstairs was a loft sleep-and-play area with shelves of books, dozens of toys, a computer cubby, and four built-in bunk beds that had flat-screen televisions installed at the foot of each bed. Downstairs Lili saw a king-size bed, a vanity with theater lighting
and a plush cushioned seat, and mirrored closets that took up the whole back wall. It was lavish and extravagant, but she expected nothing less after seeing Air Force Page.

“You can put your stuff in here,” Lauren told them, indicating an empty closet near the bathroom. “I'm changing into pj's,” she added, disappearing into a bathroom.

Lili wondered why Lauren wouldn't change outside with the rest of them as the three slipped into their matching pajamas: pink glitter tanks with “The Ashleys” monogrammed in front and striped cotton capri pants from Limited Too, her hands-down favorite store at the mall. Sure, Robertson Boulevard was great and all, but the local Galleria was just as good in a pinch. And you didn't need a private jet to get there.

Lauren came out of the bathroom wearing a sloppy old oversize T-shirt that said “Cal” (for UC Berkeley) and faded sweatpants. She stared at the Ashleys in their glitter pj's. Lili couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the girl. Didn't she know that everything had a style quotient? In any event, Lauren had just failed the sleepwear category. “You guys want to play a board game?” Lauren asked.

“Sure—Scruples?” suggested A. A.

“Or What If?” Lili said.

“Nah, let's play Seven Deadly Sins,” Ashley decided.

They all looked at Lauren hopefully, but she just stood there in her bunny slippers, looking distressed. “I don't have any of those,” she told them. She opened a closet and removed boxes of Monopoly, Sorry, Clue, Cranium, and Trivial Pursuit. They were all brand-new and still wrapped in plastic. Lili guessed correctly that Lauren's mom had purchased them especially for her first sleepover party.

Ashley crinkled her nose, a dangerous sign. “No, thanks,” she said politely, although it was obvious that she thought Lauren was a bit of a dweeb for imagining they would be interested in playing any of those games.

“We could make ice-cream sundaes,” Lauren said, a bit desperately. “Or s'mores. We could build a campfire outside.”

A. A. yawned without covering her mouth. “I'm sleepy,” she said drowsily, lying down on the silk comforter on top of Lauren's bed.