L. A. Candy (12 page)

He also mentioned Madison and Gaby and how much they liked hanging out with Jane and Scarlett. Jane hadn’t seen them since their girls’ day (and night) on Saturday. Madison had texted her and Scarlett, asking them if they wanted to have another girls’ day soon—maybe lunch followed by mani-pedis? Jane had texted
back with a definite “I’m in!” As far as she knew, Scarlett hadn’t responded. She picked up that Scar wasn’t too crazy about Madison or Gaby. Jane had meant to bring it up with her, but they’d barely spent any time together without the cameras around lately. She wished Scar would be more open to the girls, though. They were really fun and nice. And it seemed as though the four of them were expected to hang out once in a while for the cameras—at least when Jane wasn’t at the office, and Scarlett wasn’t at school, and Gaby wasn’t at Ruby Slipper, and Madison wasn’t…well, doing whatever Madison did with her days. What
did
she do with her days? Judging from her super-put-together appearance, she probably lived at the gym and spent the rest of her time at the spa and boutiques (with the
L.A. Candy
cameras in tow, no doubt).

Then, out of the blue, Trevor said, “Were you at Lola’s last night?”

Jane frowned. “Um, yeah. Why?” How did he know that?

“Oh, one of my friends said he saw you. That place is great, right? I think I wanna film there.”

“Yeah, it was cool.”

“Who did you go with?”

“I met my friend Braden there,” Jane said.

“Just a friend?” Trevor asked. And by the way he said it, Jane assumed it had been accompanied by a suggestive eyebrow raise.

“Yes, Trevor…just a friend,” Jane assured him, hoping Trevor’s interest in Braden would end there.

“Great. Well, Jane! Keep up the good work! Dana will be in touch with you very soon, maybe even today. We’re sending you and Scarlett out to a few magazines to do some publicity for the show. We’re also getting the four of you together to do a photo shoot for the promo poster. Series premiere’s coming up; there’s a lot to do.”

“Okay.”

They said their good-byes. Jane shut her phone and set it on the counter next to her. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water to throw into her purse. Fruit? Yogurt? Nope, no time. She still had to shower, get dressed, and get out of here. Fiona was a punctuality freak, and Jane didn’t want to be subjected to one of her death-ray stares because she was rushing into the conference room even five minutes late.

As she headed back to her room, she wondered about Trevor’s interest in Braden. He had
tried
to sound casual about it, but she couldn’t help feeling totally weirded out that he had known where she was the night before. It was like she was being watched even when she wasn’t being filmed. The thought gave her chills, but she quickly shook it off.
Stop being so paranoid,
she told herself. She had to get dressed and get to work or suffer the very real wrath of Fiona Chen.

“So. It’s Scarlett Harp and Jane…uh…”

“Roberts,” Jane quietly filled in for what felt like the millionth time to Scarlett, but was probably only the third.

“Right. Jane Roberts. So how long have you girls been acting?”

Tiffani, the inexperienced assistant pretending to be a reporter, glanced up from her notepad and gave Scarlett and Jane a barely disguised look of total and utter boredom. It was the same look they had received from multiple reporters in the past few days. PopTV had them doing a round of publicity interviews with four different magazines this week. The bleached blond bimbo and her SAT-challenged sidekick were apparently doing the same, at four other magazines. First, Scarlett and Jane had interviewed with someone at
Star
. Then
Life & Style.
Followed
by
In Touch.
At each of those magazines, Scarlett and Jane had been assigned the lowest of the low on the journalism totem pole—that is, newbie reporters who (A) had no idea how to conduct an interview, (B) got their names wrong, (C) got the show’s name wrong, or (D) all of the above. Now they were sitting in Tiffani’s cubicle at
Gossip,
yet another tabloid magazine. The kind that plastered the racks by grocery market registers. And in the first thirty seconds of the interview, Tiffani had managed to place herself in the “D” category.

Scarlett glared at Tiffani. Jane, noticing, squeezed Scarlett’s arm with gentle but unmistakable firmness. It was her friend’s way of saying, “Shut up and let me handle this.”

“Actually, it’s a reality show, so there’s no acting,” Jane explained pleasantly. “
L.A. Candy
is the name of the show. It’s kind of like a reality version of
Sex and the City
, but it’s younger and based here in L.A. The cameras follow Scarlett, me, and two other girls, Madison and Gaby, around L.A. while we work, go to school, go to clubs…stuff like that.”

Scarlett sat back and folded her arms across her chest. Okay, so Jane was good at this. And by good, she meant Jane had the patience to smile and bullshit reporter after reporter with the same bullet points they had memorized from the press packet they had been given by Trevor’s assistant. With Tiffani, and the three others before her, Jane had managed to be polite, deliver PopTV’s cute
little promotional speech,
and
not vomit in the process. Scarlett, not so good in the bullshit department, hadn’t said much.

“Cool,” Tiffani said, scribbling in her notepad. “So are the cameras with you, like, all the time, then? Do they follow you into the bathroom? Are they with you twenty-four/seven?”

“Do you see any—” Scarlett began.

“Ha-ha!” Jane cut her off, laughing lightly. “No, the cameras aren’t with us
all
the time. They’re just there for the important stuff.”

“Gotcha. So…Jane?” Tiffani crossed her legs and turned toward Scarlett. “What can we expect in the series premiere of
Eye Candy
?”

“Listen, my journalism experience may be limited to writing for the high school newspaper,” Scarlett snapped, “but I don’t think knowing basic information like the interviewees’ names and the title of our show is asking too much.”

“Scaaaarlettttt!!!”

Scarlett whirled around, wondering whose girlish high-pitched voice was shouting her name in the hallowed halls of the
Gossip
magazine offices. She looked up and saw D. Was this guy everywhere they were?

“Scarlett! Oh, and Jane!” Diego shrieked, noticing Jane sitting next to Scarlett. “Oh! My! F’ing!
G!
” He stopped in front of Tiffani’s cubicle and grabbed both girls in a manic hug. “Tell me! What are you lovelies doing in this sad little hellhole?”

“D!” Jane squealed happily. “Better question. What are
you
doing here?”

“I work here! I’m Veronica Bliss’s assistant.”

Veronica who?
Scarlett wanted to ask, but the so-called reporter cut in.

“Diego, do you mind?” Tiffani said impatiently. “I’m right in the middle of an interview.”

“Interview? What interview? What does this she-demon want with the two of you?” D asked, turning to Scarlett and Jane.

“What is your problem?” Tiffani demanded.

“Go fact-check something. Shoo!” D hissed, waving his hands at her.

“I’m interviewing them for the
Eye Candy
piece, you asshole,” Tiffani snapped.

Scarlett’s seething boiled over. “Seriously? Are you that dense? It’s
L.A. Candy
.”

“
L.A. Candy?
You mean, the new PopTV show?” D interrupted. “Girls, you’re on that show? Why didn’t you say anything at Les Deux?”

“We met the producer that night, right after you disappeared,” Jane explained.

“Well, color me clueless! This is unbelievable!” D crowed. “Listen, girls. What are you doing this Saturday? Wait! It doesn’t matter! Cancel. We’re going to celebrate! I want to fall in love with you before I have to hate you.”

“Oh, fun!” Jane exclaimed.

“Sure,” Scarlett agreed. D might be a tad on the dramatic
side, but she’d take hanging out with him over a night out with Madison and Gaby any day.

Tiffani’s phone rang. She picked it up, listened, then hung up quickly. “Diego? Your master’s looking for you,” she said. “You’d better run!”

D turned pale. “Uh-oh. Listen, ladies. Here’s my card. Text me later, ’kay? We’ll figure out what, when, where, and what to wear!”

“Sounds good,” Jane said, hugging D good-bye.

Scarlett watched as he hurried into an office with mirrored windows. She studied the card he’d handed her. It said: “Diego Neri, assistant to the editor in chief,
Gossip.
” So…his “master,” Veronica Bliss, must be the boss lady of this magazine. And judging from D’s freaked-out expression when he took off just now, she must be intimidating. Scarlett was sure Jane could relate to that.

Veronica Bliss sat admiring the framed, oversized
Gossip
magazine covers that adorned the wall across from her desk. The one of super-stud actor Gus O’Dell trading spit with his male costar while Gus’s wife was pregnant with their first child…and the other of super-saint actress Leda Phillips standing next to her smashed Mercedes, just moments after the now-famous DUI.

She sighed as she looked over this week’s mockup spread across her desk. Another week. No one was in rehab…no one new, at least. No one was being lazy about hiding their affairs. No one had become desperate enough to leak their own nude photos onto the Internet. Nothing new. She was bored. Every “it girl” had either cleaned up her act or simply gone off the deep end and now failed to surprise.

Veronica gazed out the glass wall of her office. It was mirrored on one side so she could see out, but no one could
see in. She eyed the two girls sitting in Tiffani’s cubicle and gabbing away with Diego. Who was that assistant of hers talking to? The first girl was tall, brunette, and strikingly beautiful. The second girl was shorter, pretty, with long, wavy blond hair. She didn’t recognize either of them.

Veronica picked up her phone and buzzed Tiffani’s extension. “Ask Diego to come to my office, please.”

A moment later, Diego came rushing through her door. “Sorry, sorry! I heard you were looking for me. Did you need something?” Worry marred his smooth, cute, Asian-American face.

Veronica smiled tightly at him. “What’s Tiffani working on today?”

Diego looked confused. “Tiffani? She’s, uh, interviewing two of the girls from PopTV’s new reality show.”

Veronica arched her eyebrows. “Oh. And who are they? Do we know anything about them?” she asked casually. She knew about the show. Her spies at PopTV had told her all about it. If it was anything like the network was pitching it to be, those girls were about to become household names.

“Well…their names are Scarlett and Jane. Scarlett’s the brunette. She’s a student at U.S.C. Jane’s the blonde. She interns for an event planner.”

“Really? Which planner?”

“Uh…I’m not sure. I can find out for you.”

“Please do. And ask Tiffani to email me the notes from her interview as soon as the girls are gone.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good.” Veronica looked back at the girls. She watched as Jane tried to untangle a strand of hair from her finger. “We could use some fresh meat. Things are getting a little boring around here.”

Veronica knew the only thing America loved more than watching their stars rise was watching them fall. These girls were so unprepared for what was about to happen to them—instant fame—that the inevitable rise was practically guaranteed to be followed by a quick descent. And capturing those heartbreaking, tragic, nosedive-from-the-pedestal moments was what Veronica—and
Gossip
magazine—did best.

Jane pulled into a spot marked
RESERVED
. It was the only empty space she could find in the recording studio’s parking lot. Even though it was the weekend, the place was packed.

She hopped out of her car and walked toward the long gray building. There were several brightly painted doors along its side marked with numbers above each. She looked down at her new BlackBerry and tried to pull up the email that Trevor’s assistant had sent her. She was still figuring out how to use it. Trevor had given a BlackBerry to every girl on the show a couple of days ago, so it would be easier for Dana to get hold of them and send them their schedules.

“Building One,” Jane read aloud, finally finding the email.

She made her way toward the door with the large blue number one painted above it and headed inside. At the end
of a long hallway, she found the door marked
SOUNDBOX STUDIOS
and went in, her Miu Miu heels sounding loud against the cement floors. She had never owned a pair of $400 shoes before. They had been her first splurge, part of her new wardrobe for the show.

“Can I help you?” A young girl with long black hair smiled at Jane from behind a cluttered desk.

“Hi. I’m supposed to be meeting Dana from PopTV.” Jane looked around, hoping she was in the right place.

“Studio three,” the girl said, pointing at the door to Jane’s left. “I think she’s already in there.”

“Thanks.”

Jane slipped inside and found herself in a dimly lit room. Dana was sitting on a red couch and talking to a tall bald man. In one corner of the room was a big-screen TV, which was currently turned off. Across from that, there was a control board lit up with hundreds of buttons, switches, and dials next to a large glass window through which Jane could see another, smaller room encased with black padding. In the center of the smaller room was a wooden bar stool and a round mike hanging from a black stand.

“Hey, Jane,” Dana said as Jane came in.

Dana looked even more stressed and exhausted than usual—if that was possible. The woman seriously needed to check into a spa, for like a month. She wore a blue sweatshirt over jeans, and she had on no makeup. Trevor had mentioned that all the producers had been editing until
2 or 3 a.m. every morning, trying to get the show ready for the premiere, which was now just two weeks away. Two weeks! Jane could hardly believe it. She reminded herself to go shopping for something cute to wear to the party, which was going to be at a club called Area. She also reminded herself to invite her family and friends—particularly Braden.

“Hi. Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find the building,” Jane apologized.

“Jane, this is Tim. He’s gonna be running the session.”

Jane shook the bald guy’s hand. He had big, friendly brown eyes and a toothy smile.

“Here.” Dana handed Jane a sheet of paper. Jane scanned it quickly.

Jane laughed a little as she read through each line. “‘The only thing hotter than her SAT scores is her’? Seriously, who wrote this?”

Dana didn’t look amused. “Me.”

Awkward,
thought Jane as she quickly tried to backtrack. She saw Tim trying not to smile at her comment.

“No, it’s funny. I like it.” Jane smiled, attempting to hide her embarrassment.

“We’re running a little behind. Why don’t you hop in there?” Dana said, motioning to the smaller room on the other side of the large glass window. She was all business again, so maybe Jane’s comment didn’t faze her. Or maybe she’d get her revenge in the editing room. “Take the script with you, okay?”

“’Kay.”

Jane followed Tim back out the door and into the smaller room. She climbed onto the stool as Tim started plugging and unplugging different wires from the wall. He stood up and handed her a set of headphones. Then he left the room, closing the door tightly behind him. Jane could
hear herself breathing through the headphones.

“Can you hear us?” Tim’s voice echoed loudly.

“Yeah,” Jane replied and then jumped at the amplified sound of her own voice. It was weird.

“Okay, then.” Tim made a few adjustments to the control board. “Let’s start with the first line.” He pointed at her, signaling for her to begin.

Jane looked down at the script and began to read. “My name is Jane. I just moved to L.A. with my best friend, Scarlett. I intern—”

“Jane?” Dana’s voice interrupted her.

Jane looked up from the script. She could see Dana through the window. “Yeah?”

“Can you read it a little more…” Dana tilted her head to the side like she was searching for a word. “It’s sounding a little flat. Try reading it like you’re telling a story.”

“Okay,” Jane said, confused. In fact, she didn’t really understand what she was reading, much less why she needed to read it like she was “telling a story.” What was this for? All Trevor’s assistant had said in her email was that Jane should show up at this studio and that she didn’t need to dress up since there wouldn’t be any cameras. When she’d asked Scar what she thought it was about, she found out Scar hadn’t been invited. Jane had been surprised, since they had done the four magazine interviews
together
last week, and she, Scarlett, Madison, and Gaby were scheduled to do a photo shoot
together
tomorrow, for the promo poster. Why was Jane being asked to do this—whatever this
was—without Scar or the other girls? “I’m sorry, Dana. I don’t really get what you’re asking me to do. You want me to read these lines like they are a story?”

“Like you’re narrating. This goes at the very beginning of the first episode. You’re basically introducing all the girls. Didn’t Trevor explain this to you?”

“No, his assistant just told me to show up here and ask for you.”

Dana exhaled loudly, sounding frustrated. “Okay, Trevor was supposed to explain. At the beginning of every episode we need a quick recap of the previous week. Instead of having an actor come in to do the voiceovers, Trevor wanted to have one of you girls do it.”

“Wait, I’m doing this for
every
episode?” Jane asked.

“Yeah. Apparently you’re the most relatable. They tested the pilot with several groups.”

“Groups?”

“Focus groups. We showed a rough cut of the pilot to a bunch of people in our demographic to get their feedback. According to them, you’re relatable.”

“Scarlett’s relatable.”

“To
you,
Jane. Not to middle America.”

“Really?” Jane sounded puzzled. “What about Madison?”

“Jane. No one thought
that
blonde is relatable.”

Jane laughed. It was true. There weren’t many people like Madison. “Well, Gaby’s not blond.”

“Gaby’s wonderful. She’s sweet and very pretty. But we
all know Gaby isn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box.”

Jane tried to process what Dana was telling her. Did this mean the story was being told from
her
point of view? Or was she just narrating what had happened to everyone? And why hadn’t Trevor talked to her about this before she came in here today?

“So do you understand, Jane?” Dana asked her.

“I think so,” Jane said, adjusting her headphones as she began to read again. “My name is Jane….”