Sweet Little Lies Read online

  Yeah, right, Scarlett thought. Like he’s gonna listen to you after what you did.

  She glanced up and caught Gaby looking at her. She gave Scarlett a huge, friendly smile and a thumbs-up sign. Huh? Was she encouraging her to go talk to Liam? But she didn’t know Scarlett was dating Liam. Did she? That “fifth”-sense thing of hers was creepy. Or maybe she was just excited about the show getting picked up for another season.

  “Excuse me,” Scarlett said to no one in particular, standing up.

  Then she headed toward Liam.

  32

  JANE WHO?

  Madison felt like a million dollars as she headed into the house in search of a bathroom. (There were restrooms outside, but she didn’t do lines.) Trevor had just announced a second season with twice as many episodes. Jesse was self-destructing before everyone’s eyes, which meant that the demise of the Jane-Jesse love-fest wasn’t far behind. With Jesse out of the picture, that left soooo much airtime to fill with the adventures of Jane and Madison…or even better, the adventures of just Madison, dating, going to the gym, maybe even going back to school. Or finding some fabulous new job that would look good for the cameras. The possibilities were endless.

  Her arrangement with Veronica was looking up, too. Madison had been faithfully emailing the Gossip editor details of Jane’s sorry love life: Jane’s intimate postfight-at-Teddy’s lunch with Braden, Jesse’s not-very-happy reaction when he found out about it. The story had made the cover last week (much to Jane’s dismay—maybe her publicist wasn’t such a hotshot after all?).

  And tonight, as soon as Madison got home, she would send Veronica another email about Jesse’s continuing descent from clean and soberish to drunk and ugly. How many drinks did he put away tonight? Five or six? If it hadn’t been for the stupid publicist intervening, that number might have climbed to double digits.

  And in exchange, Veronica would have no choice but to give her a huge, prominently placed piece. And someday maybe even a cover.

  “Um, excuse me, could we get a picture?” someone called out. Madison turned to see two young girls, maybe thirteen, standing around the all-white living room. They pulled a couple of matching pink cell phones out of their matching Kate Spade clutches.

  “Sure.” Madison stopped, fluffed her hair, and plastered on a smile.

  The two girls snapped away, giggling. “Thank you so much!” one of them cried out.

  “We love you!” the other one added.

  Madison waved as she walked away, still smiling. Gone were the days when Jane was the only one fans noticed in public. Things had obviously changed in a few short months. And they would continue to change, as Madison’s face and name became more and more prominent, and Jane’s faded into obscurity. Someday, people would be begging Madison for her autograph and picture, and they would be saying, “Jane who?” with blank, puzzled expressions.

  Madison had just spotted the guest bathroom when she noticed a guy and a girl making out in a doorway down the hall. Jeez, go to a hotel, she thought, although maybe she was just pissed because she hadn’t seen Derek in a while. If he didn’t get back from his annoying business trip soon, she would just have to call one of her other boyfriends.

  It was the long, wavy black hair that made her look again. Madison stifled her surprise. The girl was Scarlett. And the guy was—Madison definitely recognized him—one of the PopTV cameramen! The one with the bandanna, Liam.

  Madison slipped into the bathroom before Scarlett or Liam saw her. (Although they seemed way too busy to see much of anything.) This was almost too good to be true. PopTV had strict rules about the crew dating the talent.

  Oh, Scarlett, Madison thought, smiling. I’m gonna make your life so miserable.

  This night had just gone from great to amazing.

  33

  THE TRUTH, THE WHOLE TRUTH, AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH

  “I’ve lined up interviews for you with Talk and Life and Style,” Sam said. “And I’ll probably have Gossip and Star for you by the end of the day. Everybody wants to talk to you about the show getting picked up for a second season. It’s all good!”

  It was Tuesday night, and Sam had dropped by the apartment to update her on the latest developments. Madison was at a spinning class with Gaby, so it was just Jane and Sam and Tucker, who was busily gnawing away at his new bone.

  Jane twirled a lock of her hair. “Gossip? Do I really have to talk to them?”

  “Yeah. I know you hate them for publishing those pictures of you and Braden. And for the crap they’ve been printing about you and Jesse lately. But the only way to make them write nice things about you in the future is to be nice to them. I know it sucks, but that’s just how it works in this business, sweetie.”

  “Ugh.”

  “I know, I know. Don’t worry; I’ll come with you for the interview. If the reporter goes off topic and tries to ambush you with personal questions, I’ll take care of it so you don’t have to be the bitch.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah. That’s what I’m here for: to be the bad guy so you never have to. I’m basically a bitch for hire.”

  Jane had to laugh. It was so nice to finally feel a little in control of the media circus that surrounded her. D was right—Sam was a miracle worker.

  And her agent, R.J., was a miracle worker, too. He was in the process of negotiating a new contract for Jane for season two, which he promised would be way better than her package for season one. If there was a season two…for Jane. She still had mixed feelings about continuing with the show. Which was more important to her—having a private life or a fabulous life? She didn’t have the answer yet. And the clock was ticking. In the meantime, her only remaining filming obligation was the Valentine’s Day party at the Tropicana, which was coming up in less than two weeks. The party would be featured in one of the early season-two episodes.

  After the Tropicana party, Jane and the other girls would have three weeks off, and then filming would begin again, with season-two episodes to start airing in the spring.

  Jane picked up her mug of herbal tea and took a sip. She had started drinking a special chamomile, valerian, and something-else blend from the health food store every night, to try to destress. She had been having a hard time sleeping lately. “Soooo. You think people have forgotten about those pictures of me and Braden? And what about the stuff about me and Jesse?”

  “I know, I know. We’ve gotta keep the public’s attention focused on the good stuff, like the show getting picked up for another season and your wonderful career and your wonderful new apartment and—oh, yeah, your wonderful new dog! I think there’s some kind of celebrity dog event coming up, to raise money for spay-neuter outreach.” Sam pulled her BlackBerry out of her oversize Louis Vuitton bag and began punching keys.

  Tucker had been living with Jane and Madison for a little over a week now, and Jane had gotten into the habit of buying him a new treat or two almost daily. There were bones and stuffed animals and balls scattered all over the living room floor.

  “You’re the best,” Jane said to Sam, meaning it.

  Sam glanced up. “Just doing my job. Speaking of which…we gotta talk about your boyfriend. Honey, what exactly is going on between you two?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, just how bad has the drinking gotten? And have you heard anything about a girl named Amber?”

  Jane stared at her. “How do you know about Amber?”

  “Small town, and it’s part of my job to know these things.”

  Jane looked away. Why did Sam have to bring this up? She had already gone over this stuff with Jesse, and she was tired of discussing it. In fact, the subject was downright painful.

  Shuddering, she reached for a soft white throw to wrap around her shoulders. She felt like crap. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with something.

  “Jane, honey.” Sam’s voice was gentle. “You’ve gotta tell me the truth. Otherwise, I can’t help you.”

  “What do
you mean, help me?” Jane demanded, a little surprised at the harsh tone in her own voice. “Why do I need help?”

  “I mean, when reporters call me for a comment because they claim Jesse’s been seen with some other girl, or he’s passed out on the floor at Bar Marmont, or the two of you are having a knock-down-drag-out fight about Braden, I’ve gotta know what to say to them. My job is to protect you. And you have to remember that in this relationship with Jesse, you’re guilty by association. So when Jesse does bad things, it makes you look bad, too. I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s the truth.”

  “Sam, what do you want me to tell you?” Jane blurted out. “I love him.” She paused. “There isn’t anything I can do about that. He’s not perfect, but I love him.”

  “I get it,” Sam said sympathetically. “Love sucks, doesn’t it?”

  “You’re preaching to the choir.” Jane smiled bitterly.

  “I had this girlfriend once. I thought she was the one. For our six-month anniversary, I bought her this gorgeous necklace. One day I noticed it was gone. I asked her where it was, and she told me her apartment was robbed. Turns out she sold the necklace to buy coke. I had no clue she even did drugs.”

  “That’s awful!”

  “Yeah. You never know about people, right?”

  “Yeah, but this whole thing is not Jesse’s fault. It’s my fault. He was so sweet to me before I cheated on him, and before Braden came back to L.A., and—”

  “Honey, you’re not responsible for Jesse’s behavior,” Sam interrupted. “I’ve been in the business for a while, and I’ve run in some of the same circles as Jesse. This is just how he is. He was like this before you ever came along. You’re in no way responsible for his behavior.” Sam added, “That being said, I need you to tell me what that behavior is. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Otherwise, I can’t do my job.”

  Jane took another sip of her tea. The truth was, things had gotten steadily worse with Jesse in the past couple weeks since the Alt party at Teddy’s. He was drunk more often than not. She had gotten several middle-of-the-night calls from Quentin, asking her to come and pick up Jesse at Les Deux or Apple or one of the other clubs Quentin promoted. Fortunately, Jesse thought of Quentin as a friend and liked hanging out at his clubs. Otherwise, who would take away his car keys, hide him from reporters, and send out an SOS to Jane? D was sometimes at the scene when Jesse had one of his “incidents” and was always ready with a sympathetic hug for Jane and a knowing look that said, Why on earth are you with this guy, baby cakes?

  As for Amber…Jane had asked Jesse point-blank about her, and he had somehow managed to turn it around to make it all about her and Braden. “Yeah, well, are you telling me I can’t have a drink with a friend?” he had snapped. “Because you’re allowed to go out with your friends, aren’t you? I mean, you had lunch with your friend Braden. So why can’t I have a drink with my friend Amber? You’re a fucking hypocrite, you know that?” After that, it had been impossible for Jane to argue with him.

  He never used to talk to her like that. And the more he drank, the angrier he got. But it had gotten to the point where she was too tired to fight back, to have the same argument over and over again. So she let him say those awful and hurtful things to her, knowing that he would beg for her forgiveness in the morning and promise never to act that way again. Which was a promise he always kept—until his next drink.

  Still, she loved him, and in between the drinking, they were happy.

  But something definitely had to change. And Jane couldn’t bear another publicity scandal like the one she’d survived. Barely.

  “Okay,” she said finally. “How long do you have?”

  Sam grinned. “For you, honey, I’ve got all night.”

  Jane started talking.

  34

  LUCKY SKIRT

  Scarlett hummed to herself as she dug through her closet, looking for the black miniskirt from the season finale party. Ever since that night, when she and Liam had made up, she had thought of that skirt as her lucky skirt. She wanted to wear it tonight, because Liam was taking her out to his favorite dumpling restaurant in Chinatown. He claimed he had even learned a few phrases in Mandarin, so he could converse with the waiters in their native tongue and show up Scarlett, for once.

  Life is good, Scarlett thought. She and Liam were together again. He had accepted her apology at the season finale party, and they had seen each other almost every night since then. It was hard for even her to believe, but for the first time in her life, she was in a relationship. Not a casual hookup…not a one-night stand…but an actual relationship. And it wasn’t half-bad. In fact, it was pretty amazing.

  Even school was going well. She was enjoying her classes, especially her literature seminars, and she was writing an awesome paper on Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert that would surely win her the Pulitzer prize for brilliant school papers (if such a thing existed).

  Now all she had to do was patch things up with Jane. Then things could return to normal.

  She got dressed, even applying some violet eyeliner and shimmery lip gloss that Gaby had picked up for her at Sephora. (The girl was smart about clothes and makeup; Scarlett would give her that.) She glanced at the clock: 7:15. Hmm, Liam was late. Maybe it was just Friday-evening traffic?

  Seven twenty, 7:25. Finally, the doorbell rang.

  “Coming!” Scarlett yelled, slipping on a pair of cute black wedges that she had found in one of Jane’s freebie boxes.

  A moment later, she opened the front door, wondering if Liam would tease her about her outfit. Or would he just tell her how hot she looked and take her in his arms, as he had done at the Malibu beach house?

  “Hey—” Scarlett began. And stopped when she saw the expression on Liam’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  Liam thrust a rumpled-up magazine at her. “This just came out today.”

  Scarlett stepped back to let him into the apartment. He walked in right past her. She stared down at the magazine he had handed her. It was Gossip. The cover had a photo of that blond actress, Anna Payne, wearing a really unflattering bikini and devouring a doughnut. The cover line read, ANNA’S SHOCKING WEIGHT GAIN!

  Scarlett frowned, confused. “I don’t get it.”

  “Turn to page sixteen.” Liam’s voice was steely with anger.

  “What is it? It’s not some lame picture of me with that guy at the Alt party, is it? Because I told you, I didn’t go home with him, and—”

  “Just turn to page sixteen.”

  “Okay, okay. Oh…my…God!”

  There on page sixteen was a photo of her and Liam walking hand in hand along Venice Beach. The bold letters above the photo read, L.A. CANDY STAR HOOKS UP WITH CAMERAMAN!

  “No way!” Scarlett cried out. “We were so careful! How did they—”

  “Obviously, we weren’t careful enough,” Liam interrupted. “Did you tell anyone about us?”

  Scarlett’s thoughts flashed to Gaby. But she hadn’t mentioned Liam’s name to her. “No. Why, did you?”

  “No. I mean, my friends met you at the New Year’s Eve party. But none of them know we’ve been going out since then. And none of them would be sick enough to tip off the press.”

  “How do you know someone tipped off the press? It could’ve been some random photographer who saw us, right? We were on Venice Beach day before yesterday.”

  “Yeah, except that the article quotes some ‘source close to the pair.’ You got any friends like that?”

  Startled, Scarlett scanned the article. Liam was right. The reporter quoted someone saying that Scarlett and Liam were “making out” at the L.A. Candy season finale party on Monday night and had left the Malibu beach house together afterward.

  What the hell? Scarlett racked her brain for who could have seen her and Liam kissing there. They had taken great pains to find a secluded spot inside the house. What source? Could it have been Gaby, after all?

  “What are we gonna do?” Scarlett gro
aned.

  “What do you mean, what are we gonna do? If you’re talking about my job, it’s too late. I got the call this afternoon from Trevor Lord himself. I’m off the crew.”

  “He fired you?”

  “Yeah, he fired me.”

  “Oh, no! I’m so sorry.” Scarlett reached over to hug him. He pulled back, clearly not in the mood for a hug.

  Scarlett folded her arms across her chest, feeling dumb because she obviously didn’t know what he needed or wanted from her right now. “Maybe he’ll fire me next. I broke his stupid rule, too,” she muttered.

  “You? He’s not gonna fire you. You’re good for ratings, now that you and Jane aren’t speaking to each other.”

  “Great. Why is it that what’s good for ratings and what’s good for me are totally opposite? Seems a little backward.”

  “Yeah, you’re right about that.” Liam leaned against the wall and rubbed his eyes.

  “I guess you probably lost your appetite for Chinese dumplings, huh?” she said.

  “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “No worries. We can stay in if you want. You wanna order in?”

  “Can I take a rain check? I think I just wanna go home and chill.”

  “Um, okay. But you’re not mad at me about this, are you?”

  “No, Scarlett. I’m not mad at you. I’m just mad. I just got fired, and I don’t get paid to go clubbing and shopping for some stupid show, so I have to figure out what the hell I’m gonna do.”

  “Hey. I get that you’re angry, but you can’t put this on me. And until today, you worked on that ‘stupid show.’”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just upset, and I need to be alone. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Liam opened the door and started to head out. He stopped, though, and kissed Scarlett on the cheek. “I’m not mad at you,” he said again.