In Too Deep (26 page)

Authors: Jennifer Banash

BOOK: In Too Deep

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“Your mother has invited me to spend the holidays with you both—and I have accepted,” Antonio said carefully, wiping the crumbs from his full lips with a white linen napkin.

“Great. I’ll alert the media,” Madison snapped as she stood up, throwing her black cashmere military-inspired D&G coat over her shoulders, the silver buttons flashing in the light. “It’ll be a miracle if you two survive past New Year’s,” Mad said as she pulled her arms through the sleeves, not bothering to fasten the buttons and exhaling loudly in annoyance. Not that Edie and Antonio were paying attention anyway—the minute she got up, Edie began whispering in Antonio’s ear and giggling like a love-struck teenager. As she looked at them, Madison couldn’t help but feel a giant wave of sadness crashing over her—a wave she hoped to God the cameras wouldn’t pick up on as she left their sorry asses sitting in cake crumbs.

“Oh, and by the way,” Madison said in a tone just saccharin enough to make Edie and Antonio quit their pawing and look up blankly into Madison’s sweetly smiling face—if she’d learned anything from Edie over the years it was definitely how to fake it—even when you felt like killing someone.
Especially
when you felt like killing someone. “Bah fucking humbug,” she snarled, turning on one heel and marching across the glittering, ornate lobby.
After all,
she told herself, blinking back an ocean of frustrated tears from her eyes,
no one ever could accuse Madison Macallister of being a girl who didn’t know how to make an exit . . .

But even so, as she walked out of the place that represented the happiest days of her childhood and into the frigid air blowing down Fifth Avenue, Madison couldn’t help wishing that she had something that even remotely approximated a real family. After all, it was one thing to lose your boyfriend to the new girl in town, but it was something else entirely when guys started dumping you for your mom! Madison bit her bottom lip as she pushed through the front doors, checking her reflection in the shiny glass. Had she lost her trademark Macallister hotness? Was that even possible? Still, why would any guy in his right mind prefer Edie to her? There were cameras trailing her every move on a daily basis, and in a few short weeks the show would premiere and she’d be famous—or infamous. So then why was she suddenly feeling so . . . invisible? Ugh, there was nothing like a breakup to make you feel completely insignificant—no matter who you were. She needed a Breakover—and fast. Madison stepped onto the street, pulling her phone from her bag, her finger scrolling through her call-list, searching for Frederic Fekkai when it erupted in her hands and began buzzing shrilly.

“What?” Madison barked, walking into the street and throwing out one hand to try to hail a cab, her platinum hair whipping around her head in a sudden gust of wind.

“Hey,” Drew said nervously. “Glad I caught you.”

“I’m in a hurry.” Mad rolled her eyes and uttered a sound that closely resembled the piercing, slightly guttural cry of an elephant being shot with a spear. “I’m trying to hail a fucking cab. But what’s up?”

“I just wanted to see if we could meet up tomorrow night.” Drew cleared his throat, and in the depths of that scratchy noise she could hear how down he sounded. Come to think of it, he’d been weirdly depressed and totally un-Drew-like since Sophie’s party—not that it was her problem anymore. “I really need to talk to someone.”

“You need to talk to someone,” Mad repeated tonelessly as a cab screeched to a stop right in front of her. She grabbed the door handle and fell into the backseat, breathing hard. “God, I fucking hate cabs.” The driver shot her a dirty look in the rearview mirror. “No offense,” Madison said, holding the phone away from her ear. “Fifty-sixth and Park,” she barked at the driver. “Look, Drew, do you need to talk to ‘someone’ or do you need to talk to me—there is a difference, you know.”

God, she sounded like such a bitch sometimes. But she couldn’t seem to help herself—especially where Drew was concerned. Ever since last spring when they had sort-of almost lost their virginity to one another, things had definitely been far from perfect between them. Not only had he immediately run off to spend the summer in Amsterdam without even saying goodbye, but he’d started flirting with the bane of her existence that was Casey McCloy—new girl and complete loser—the minute he’d stepped foot back on the island of Manhattan.

“I know,” Drew said, exhaling loudly in frustration. “And I need to talk to
you
, okay?”

“Meet me tomorrow night at Space. Nine o’clock.”

“
Space
?” Drew said with no small amount of disbelief. “You mean you’re actually going to venture
below
Times Square of your own free will?” Drew scoffed playfully, referring to Madison’s disdain of anything not Upper East Side, as well as the fact that Space, one of the hottest new clubs in town, was located in SoHo—as far downtown as one could possibly get without being in Chinatown—or Brooklyn. “Who are you?” he demanded jokingly, “And what have you done with Madison Macallister?”

“I’m not even hearing you,” Madison said sweetly, staring out the window at the traffic blurring by. “Besides, if it’s good enough for the cast of
Gossip Girl
, it’s definitely good enough for me.”

Drew chuckled, sounding more like his old self than he had in weeks. “All right—I don’t usually make it a practice to descend into the inner apex of Hipdom on a school night, but I guess for you I can make an exception.”

“Glad to hear it,” Mad answered with a hint of her trademark sarcasm, hoping Drew could
feel
how hard she was rolling her eyes at him. After all, he
did
mention once that he thought they had some kind of telepathic connection . . .

Madison pushed END with one French-manicured nail before Drew could say anything else, tossing her phone back into her bag, taking a strand of hair between two fingers and studying it carefully. She was definitely still pissed at Drew—that wasn’t even up for discussion—but, even so, she couldn’t ignore the fact that meeting him at the hottest new club in the city was the
perfect
excuse to unveil the new, improved Madison Macallister . . .

about the author

Jennifer Banash
attended high school on the Upper East Side of Manhattan and currently resides in Los Angeles, California, where she lives with her beagle, Sigmund, and her vast designer shoe collection. She is the author of the novel
Hollywoodland: An American Fairy Tale
, and is the co-founder and co-publisher of Impetus Press, an independent publishing house that champions serious literary fiction with a pop edge. E-mail Jennifer at [email protected], or check the latest updates on The Elite series on MySpace at
MySpace.com/theeliteseries
, theelitebooks .com, or follow Mad, Drew, and Casey on
Twitter.com
!