Sugar And Spice Part 19

"I'm such an idiot!" the girl cried out.

Jane looked down and saw the ma.s.sive red stain blooming across the front of her white silk blouse. "That's okay," she said, trying not to sound as annoyed as she felt. She noticed that the camera guy from before was still filming. Great. "I have another blouse in my room. I'll just go up and change."

"OhmiG.o.d, I'm so sorry," the girl apologized.

Jane fake-smiled and hurried to the nearest exit, trying to hide the growing stain with her hand. She spoke briefly to Hannah, letting her know that she would be off-site for a few minutes. She made it to the elevator without receiving too many funny looks and pressed 9.

When Jane stepped onto her floor, she made a quick right-and was surprised to see another PopTV camera camped outside her door, along with Matt. The camera guy spotted her and zoomed in on her.

What's going on? Jane wondered. Was her red wine stain emergency really that interesting? But she couldn't ask questions during a shoot, so she just kept walking to her door and inserted her key card in the lock.

She was halfway inside the room when she realized that she wasn't alone in there. Two more PopTV camera guys were set up in opposite corners, filming.

And Caleb and Gaby were sitting on the edge of the king-size bed, kissing.

"What? Caleb!" Jane yelled.

Caleb and Gaby jerked apart.

"Janie!" Caleb exclaimed, swiping at the red lipstick smeared on the side of his mouth. "Listen, I can explain. That dude from your show told me to meet you up here so we could do a scene. Then she showed up and threw herself at me. I swear!"

"Jane, I'm sorry!" Gaby cried out. "I didn't wanna do this. But Annabelle told me that if I didn't, Trevor was going to kick me off the show!"

"Wait, what?" Caleb said, turning to Gaby.

Jane shook her head and covered her ears. "No! You know what? I'm really not interested in your explanations. Either of you."

"But, Jane!"

"Janie!"

Jane went over to her closet and yanked a fresh white blouse from a hanger. "Have a nice life," she said coldly, and stormed out the door. So I guess this is what happens in Vegas, she thought.

Once in the hallway, she pulled out her phone and called up the text from Braden.

DINNER ON MONDAY SOUNDS PERFECT, she typed.

Chapter 31.

Survivor

Madison took a sip of her martini and glanced around St. Mark's Square, wondering what had possessed Jane to suggest a Venetian masked ball. All the people in their feathery black masks were so lame, and the long, flouncy gowns made the girls at the party look old. Madison, on the other hand, had taken care to select the perfect dress for the occasion: a black Prada strapless with an asymmetrical hemline that was at once edgy, stylish, and s.e.xy.

Actually, Madison was supposed to be "on duty" tonight, whatever that meant. But she had no interest; she attended parties, she wasn't the help. She hated her event-planning "job" and even pretending to work there for the cameras was getting old. Besides, there was no way she was going to run around the Venetian in a uniform like Jane and Hannah. No wonder Jane's BF had disappeared, and Intern Boy seemed so moody, with their girlfriends looking so frumpy. Madison had half a mind to move in on one or both guys. But what would be the point? She could do better.

Madison's gaze drifted to Aja and Miguel Velasquez slow-dancing out on the floor. Now there was a boyfriend worth stealing: a super-hot, super-rich, super-famous baseball player. Her mind reeled with the media possibilities, not to mention the lifestyle upgrades.

"Maddy! There you are!"

Madison turned, sighing. Sophie was staggering toward her, holding a drink with one hand and clinging to Jesse with the other. Great. Sophie was halfway to wasted-or possibly already there-and the party had barely begun.

Madison casually switched off her mike and pretended to kiss her sister on the cheek in case anyone was watching. In fact, wasn't that Veronica Bliss talking to the Marley twins? And Veronica's hideous ex-a.s.sistant-turned-blogger Diego at the bar?

"For the hundredth time, it's Madison, not Maddy," she hissed in Sophie's ear. "G.o.d, you reek. What is that, pot?"

"You are so old, Maddy!" Sophie whined. "Isn't she old, baby?" She stood on her tiptoes and nibbled on Jesse's neck, looking a little unstable on her five-inch platforms.

Madison caught her by the elbow and steadied her on her feet. She had seen Sophie trashed before, but not quite this bad.

"You wanna hit, Madison?" Jesse whispered, reaching into his breast pocket. "It's good stuff."

"No!" Madison clenched her fists, trying to keep her voice down. This situation was getting out of control. Aside from the fact that there was press nearby, weren't Sophie and Jesse both miked? It was hard to tell, since Sophie's clingy black halter dress didn't have any telltale b.u.mps underneath, and Jesse was in a tux. Maybe Dana hadn't caught up to them yet?

Madison knew that she had to do something, fast. "Listen, Jesse-can you get us a couple more drinks?" she said sweetly.

Jesse smirked. "Sure, anything for my girls. Be right back."

He lurched toward the bar, b.u.mping into a couple of guests along the way and receiving nasty looks in return. As soon as he was out of earshot, Madison whirled on Sophie. "We're going upstairs."

"Why? I just got here."

"Yeah, well . . . party's over. You're going straight to bed, and we'll talk about this in the morning." Madison put her hand on Sophie's arm and started to steer her toward the exit.

Sophie jerked her arm away. "What are you doing?" she screamed. Then she tossed her champagne gla.s.s to the ground, shattering it.

The crowd around them stopped talking. Madison froze.

Sophie glared at Madison with glazed, bloodshot eyes. "Who do you think you are, my mother?" she spat out.

"No, Sophie-Sophia. But you're in no shape to-"

"Yeah, that's right. You are not my mother!" Sophie said, raising her voice as if to make sure everyone could hear. "Cuz Mom lives in a trailer park back East, and you live in a fancy-a.s.s penthouse in Hollywood. Oh, except, it's not even your penthouse. It's your boyfriend's penthouse where he keeps you stashed away so his wife doesn't find out. Because you're a wh.o.r.e, Maddy."

Madison felt the blood rus.h.i.+ng from her face. Veronica Bliss and Diego and the others were watching and listening intently. Madison heard whispers all around her.

"Sophie, please," Madison said quietly, her desperation rising. "You want money? I'll give you money. I'll give you whatever you want. But just shut up, okay? Or you're gonna ruin everything for both of us."

"G.o.d! I'm so sick of you ordering me around!" Sophie shouted. "I'm not your little kid sister anymore. I'm gonna be a way bigger star than you ever were. And I don't need to pretend to be someone I'm not to get there. You're so pathetic, faking that you're some rich b.i.t.c.h named Madison Parker just so people will like you. Tell them, Maddy! Tell them your real name . . . Madelyn Wardell!"

There were gasps, then more whispers, then a low, steady rumble of excited chatter all around them. Madison stood there numb with shock, her gaze unfocused, her heart hammering in her chest. She was vaguely aware of a flashbulb popping, and someone calling out her name, and then Sophie muttering, "s.h.i.+t!" as she grabbed on to a chair and fell.

Good, Madison thought, glancing at her sister pa.s.sed out on the floor. Maybe the little b.i.t.c.h is dead.

Although it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

Madison's life was over.

Madison leaned against the wall and peered around the dark, enclosed s.p.a.ce, wondering where she was-an empty closet? An unused coat-check room? She could hear the m.u.f.fled sounds of the party in the distance-the DJ was playing Jay-Z-and the rise and fall of conversation and laughter as people pa.s.sed by in the hall outside.

She had slipped in here on her way upstairs to escape a couple of reporters trying to chase her down for comments. She knew there would be many, many more of them, following her 24/7 and staking out her apartment, as soon as the news had had a chance to spread. In fact, she was already thinking about leaving the country for a while, like Jane did back in December after the Gossip story broke.

Except that Madison's screwup was way worse than Jane's. Jane had merely hooked up with her boyfriend's best friend, and lots of girls did crazy stuff like that. Not too many girls faked their ident.i.ties in order to become famous.

She slumped down to the floor and burst into tears.

"Hey . . . Madison?"

Madison's head jerked up. Blinking in the darkness, she made out a silhouette in the doorway. Was it a reporter? No, it looked like . . . Jane. WTF?

"If you're here to gloat, I'm not interested," Madison snapped, swiping at her eyes angrily.

Jane moved into the room and knelt down next to Madison. Madison saw that she was holding a gla.s.s of champagne.

"I saw you come in here," Jane said, handing her the gla.s.s. "Thought you could use this."

Madison stared at her in surprise. "You're offering me a drink?"

"Yep."

"But . . . why?"

Jane shrugged. "I don't know. Because you had a really, really bad night?"

Madison frowned suspiciously. "You're not miked, are you?"

"I turned it off. Don't worry, Trevor didn't send me in here. Anyway, that's all. I've gotta get back to work now." Jane rose to her feet.

"Wait! Jane!"

"What?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. You'd better check your compact-you've got mascara all over your face, and one of your eyelashes is, like, falling off."

Madison smiled weakly. "Great. My life is ruined, and I look like h.e.l.l."

"Your life isn't ruined," Jane told her. "You're obviously a survivor, and you'll figure it out. You do look like h.e.l.l, though. And no, this doesn't mean we're gonna be friends again. But I'm sure I'll be seeing you around." With that, she turned and left.

Madison watched her old friend go. Then she tipped back the gla.s.s of champagne, polis.h.i.+ng it off, and reached into her clutch for her compact.

Jane was right. Madison was a survivor. She would turn this nightmare into an opportunity, somehow. She had always managed to claw her way out of the abyss before. And she would find a way to do it again.

Chapter 32.

How Awesome was That?

It was almost midnight when Scarlett arrived at Liam's apartment, still wearing her sequined black gown and insanely high heels and dragging her rolling suitcase behind her. She had managed to get the last seat on the 9:35 out of Las Vegas, then caught a cab at LAX, miraculously avoiding paparazzi the whole way.

She knocked, praying he was home. Praying he was home alone. Praying he wouldn't want to be alone any longer when he saw her there.

Scarlett was about to knock again when the door opened. Liam stood there, wearing only a pair of baby blue pajama bottoms. She tried not to stare. G.o.d, she had missed him. It took every ounce of willpower not to throw her arms around him and start kissing him right then and there.

"Scarlett?" He rubbed his eyes. "What are you doing here? And why are you dressed up?"

"I'm sorry, did I wake you? Cuz you usually don't go to bed till later."

"I've got an early shoot tomorrow. My friend Taylor needed an extra camera on a commercial. What's up?"

"Can we talk?"

"Sure. Come on in."

Scarlett followed Liam down the hall and into the living room. "It's just you and me. Ry and Danny are out," he said, sitting down on the couch. "You want something to drink?"

"I'm good, thanks." Scarlett sat down next to him and toyed with her bracelet. She tried to gauge how he felt about her being there; was he happy, relieved, angry, confused, or all of the above? It was hard to tell from his guarded expression.

"Okay, so the reason I'm dressed like this is because I just left Aja's engagement party," she began. "I left before it started, and I didn't even clear it with Dana and Trevor."

"You mean the Venetian hotel shoot? Seriously?"

Scarlett nodded. "I ran to my room and packed my stuff and took a cab to the airport."

"Why the rush?"