Part 8 (1/2)

”Why don't we talk about it after you get sober?” she said.

Jesse beamed. ”Yes! That's awesome! You just made my day.”

Jane smiled back, but it was an effort. She had just done something really nice for someone she used to care about.

So why did she feel like crying?

Chapter 12.

Sophisticated to Super-s.l.u.tty

Madison drove down ”The Strip” trying not to get distracted by the pa.s.sing scenery. She had been in Las Vegas many times before, with various boyfriends, but the main drag never ceased to amaze her: the (fake) Sphinx and pyramid at the Luxor Hotel, the (fake) Eiffel Tower at the Paris, the (fake) Coney Islandstyle roller coaster at New York-New York, the (fake) everything. It was the most artificially glamorous place in the world, and Madison absolutely loved it. On the street, dazed-looking tourists wandered alongside high rollers in designer clothes, and stretch limos glided alongside trucks with ”mobile billboards” advertising strip clubs.

Madison spotted Jane's Jetta a few cars ahead. Jane was driving, with Hannah in the pa.s.senger seat and Intern Boy in the back. The four of them were on their way to the Venetian to meet with the hotel staff and Aja's reps to organize the pop singer's engagement party. Much to Madison's annoyance-as if having the party at the Venetian versus the Palms wasn't annoying enough-Jane had announced at the last minute that there was no room in her car for Madison and her ”huge amount of luggage.” WTF? All Madison brought were her three Louis Vuitton rolling bags, which wasn't much for an overnight business trip, considering. A girl never knew which outfits (and shoes and purses and lingerie and other accessories) she might need in Vegas, and so Madison had brought a wide a.s.sortment, everything from sophisticated to super-s.l.u.tty.

Still, being alone in the car for the five-hour drive from L.A. to Las Vegas had given Madison some time to think about Project: Sophie. Sophie had been living with her for the last ten days, drinking all of Derek's liquor and trying to sneak out in the middle of the night to meet up with G.o.d knows who. Madison kept telling her that she had to stay out of sight until her transformation from Scary Goth Girl to one of L.A.'s pretty people was complete. Unfortunately, Sophie had never been the obedient type.

Sophie had never been the communicative type, either-although Madison had managed to get her to admit that she'd been using their grandmother's ident.i.ty and credit card (Grandma Mains had Alzheimer's and was in a nursing home) and that Sophie had known what Madison was wearing at the L.A. Candy premiere before the preshow went live because of a cell phone picture that had been Twittered.

In the meantime, Derek was not happy about the whole situation-Madison had fed him a story about how the PopTV cameras were at the apartment practically 24/7 for a special story line, so he couldn't risk visiting her there-and was making noises about cooling off their relations.h.i.+p. Which wasn't good, since the apartment was his, and if they broke up-well, where would she live? There was no way she was going back to some two-room dive downtown. Between her ”job” at Fiona Chen Events . . . filming . . . Sophie . . . press interviews . . . photo shoots . . . and trying to keep her married boyfriend happy, Madison was stretched to the max.

At least Sophie's makeover was going well. A talented, discreet stylist Madison knew had gotten rid of the hideous black dye job and replaced it with a sleek platinum pageboy with bangs. Another discreet contact had performed a series of lip injections-not that Sophie's lips needed plumping, but they needed to alter her appearance. Next would come waxing (the girl obviously didn't believe in basic grooming), a full set of acrylics (she had always been a nail biter), spa appointments (had she never considered a regular skin care regimen?), contact lenses (green? brown?)-and last but not least, new clothes and new makeup. A nose job would have been the perfect way to further mask Sophie's ident.i.ty from the people back home, but there wasn't time; recovery could take a month or more, and Sophie was already threatening to walk if she wasn't introduced to Trevor and put on the show ASAP. Ugh. Still, Madison had to make Sophie understand how crucially important it was that no one ID her as Sophilyn Wardell-or ID the two of them as the Wardell sisters (since together, they were twice as recognizable). Then everything would be lost. Hollywood was fine with fakes, but it most definitely wasn't fine with frauds.

Madison eventually reached the Venetian (okay, so it was kind of spectacular, like an over-the-top Italian palace with real gondolas gliding along real ca.n.a.ls) and pulled up to the valet stand. The PopTV crew was already there, as were Jane, Hannah, and Oliver. Madison noticed Oliver wrap his arms around Hannah as they stood on the curb, giggling idiotically about something. G.o.d, had the two underlings hooked up? Madison had noticed a certain vibe between them at the office, and more than once, she had spotted them leaving on the elevator together, at the end of the day. (Not that Madison usually stayed at the office that late. Who had the time to work when there were so many other important things to do?) Madison had no idea what Oliver saw in Hannah-she'd originally pegged him as gay, because she'd asked him out for a drink on his first day at Fiona's and he'd begged off with some lame excuse. He obviously had no taste in women.

One of the PopTV sound guys gestured for Madison to roll down her window, then handed her a mike pack and a roll of tape. Eyeing her skintight, low-cut black tank s.h.i.+rt, he said, ”I'm not sure how you're gonna manage this.”

”I'll manage. Unless . . . you wanna help me?”

”Uh . . .”

The director-Matt?-called out to the sound guy just then, and he took off hastily, leaving Madison to fend for herself. Sighing, she slipped the mike pack onto the back of her skirt. It bugged the producers when the thing was visible; but she worked hard to be in shape, and she didn't like the awkward b.u.mp it created on her back when she wore it under her s.h.i.+rt.

After a moment, Matt signaled for her to get out. Checking her makeup in the rearview mirror, she opened the door and emerged slowly, seductively, making sure the camera got a good angle on her five-inch black stilettos, her slender, spray-tanned legs, her super-short skirt, and her impressive (even by Hollywood standards) cleavage. She had a mental image of her fans crowding around, cheering, shouting out her name. Without thinking, she smiled and gave a little wave to no one in particular before handing her car key to the valet.

”Who are you waving to?” Dana asked, appearing with the camera crew. ”Are you miked? Good. I need you to go say hi to Jane and the others and walk into the lobby with them. Then stay put for a min while we move the cameras inside. If you can, suggest lunch at Postrio. We just got it cleared, and the guys need to start lighting right now if you can get them all to go. Also, you should say something to Jane about having to drive separately.”

”Got it,” Madison said. So Dana wanted her to pick an on-camera fight with Jane about the car thing. Personally, Madison would much rather humiliate Jane about her ex-boyfriend's DUI, which everyone was talking about, or her truly unattractive teal dress (some people just couldn't pull off that color). But, whatever. Madison knew it was important for her to do whatever Dana told her to do, since Dana took her orders from Trevor.

Jane, Hannah, and Oliver were heading toward the front entrance. ”Hey, wait up!” Madison called out, rus.h.i.+ng to catch up to them. ”Jane, why couldn't I ride with you guys? Are you mad at me for some reason?”

Jane turned to her. Madison blinked innocently.

”I told you, Madison. It was a s.p.a.ce issue. Next time, why don't you rent a bus, and we can all ride together with all your luggage?” Jane suggested sweetly.

b.i.t.c.h, Madison thought. ”Sounds like a plan. Hey, so . . . when's our first meeting? Two, right?” She peered at her diamond-studded Chanel watch. ”That means we have time for lunch at Postrio. After we check into our suites, that is.”

”I think us girls are sharing a room,” Hannah said quickly. ”We were thinking of just ordering room service while we prep for our meeting.”

Madison stifled a scream. Room service? Sharing a room-with Hannah and Jane? Was this for real?

”We can meet in Oliver's room in, like, ten minutes-we can spread out there-and go over our notes,” Jane added.

”I brought my camera so we can get shots of the different banquet s.p.a.ces,” Oliver piped up, patting his jacket pocket.

Madison took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She gazed at her three Louis Vuitton bags, which a bellboy was loading onto a luggage cart. Grabbing a club sandwich in Intern Boy's room was not quite what she had packed for.

”We had a couple of ideas we wanted to run by you,” Jane said.

Madison leaned back in the plush leather chair and checked out the other occupants in the conference room. In addition to herself, Jane (who was leading the meeting-why?), Hannah (who was studiously taking notes like a lowly secretary), and Oliver (who was doing the same, because he clearly had nothing useful to contribute), there was Aja's publicist, Wanda, Aja's personal a.s.sistant, Anna Luisa, and two guys from the Venetian's event-services department, Xavier and Hank. Two PopTV camera guys were set up in opposite corners of the room, filming.

”We know Aja wanted 'big and bold,' so we came up with a couple themes with that in mind,” Jane went on. ”The first one is a Caribbean theme, playing on Carnival in Martinique, which is called Vaval. The second one is-”

”My idea. A Venetian masked-ball theme, which would work soooo well with the setting here at the Venetian,” Madison cut in. She smiled at Xavier and Hank. ”We could have the party in St. Mark's Square, with Aja and Miguel making their entrance on a special gondola. What do you think?”

Jane glared at Madison, her blue eyes shooting daggers. Madison tried not to burst out laughing. Take that, b.i.t.c.h. The Venetian masked ball had been Jane's idea, not hers. Trevor was going to love this and would no doubt pull together an awesome episode with footage from an earlier meeting at which Jane had suggested the ball . . . followed by footage from today's meeting, with Madison taking credit.

”We'll have to run both ideas by Aja, but they seem great,” Wanda the publicist spoke up. ”Are they doable, logistically?” She turned to the two guys.

”Absolutely,” Xavier said, pulling something up on his laptop. ”Let's see . . . we're talking about a sit-down for five hundred guests, right?”

”I believe we'd need to incorporate the restaurant patios in St. Mark's Square as a private-party buyout,” Hank piped up.

As the group continued discussing details, Madison studied Jane, who was doing her best to maintain her game face and act like . . . well, a professional event planner. Madison had to give her credit. Jane seemed good at her job and was somehow managing to keep her cool despite Madison's efforts to derail her. If their roles had been reversed, and Jane had stolen Madison's idea during an important on-camera meeting, Madison would have thrown a full-blown tantrum and stormed out in a fury. Which of course would have made for killer TV.

Was it only a few months ago that she and Jane were BFFs-slash-roomies? Madison flashed back to those nights when the two of them would stay in, wearing sweats and fuzzy slippers and no makeup. They would pig out on junk food and gossip about Trevor and Dana and watch DVDs until 4 a.m. (Jane's favorite movie was The Notebook, and she always cried at the exact same spots.) It was . . . ”real” was the word that came to Madison's mind. Just two girls hanging out at home, relaxing and having fun. Madison wondered, If things had been different, would she and Jane still be friends? Madison's personal contact list wasn't exactly overflowing these days. Gaby, who used to be handy for shopping, clubbing, or spa outings, seemed to be avoiding her lately. (Besides which she had been totally MIA during filmings this past week-Madison heard she was on vacation in Mexico?) And of course there were the usual wannabes at Fiona Chen Events who kept sucking up to Madison, clearly angling for their fifteen minutes. As for boyfriends . . . well, besides Derek (who might not be one for much longer), Madison had a stable of faux-romantic interests-mostly models or actors wanting to get into the business-to escort her to events and fawn over her in front of paparazzi. But those relations.h.i.+ps, if they could even be called that, were only for show. If Madison ever found herself in a burning building, she doubted any of those guys could be bothered to pull her out, unless there was media present.

Bottom line, the closest person to her these days was Sophie, her little sister and blackmailer. Which was beyond pathetic. Madison wondered what she could do to remedy that situation. And if she even cared enough to bother.

Maybe someone as powerful, ambitious, and beautiful as Madison was meant to be alone? Madison glanced at Jane, who was jabbering on about the guest list now. Madison had always wanted-and deserved-to replace Jane as the star of L.A. Candy. She was so close now; all she had to do was keep her eye on the prize and not get distracted by sentimental feelings about Jane or anyone else. And, of course, make sure Sophie kept her big mouth shut.

To h.e.l.l with other people. It may be lonely at the top, but it was totally worth it.

Chapter 13.

Boy Trouble

”How was Vegas?” Scarlett asked Jane. ”And I want the real dirt now, before the crew gets here. You know Dana's gonna make us repeat this conversation for the cameras, so you can give me the L.A. Candycoated version then.”