Fame Game 03: Infamous

by Lauren Conrad

  “Don’t defend her,” Kate snapped.

  “She was drunk and, I don’t know, feeling lonely. I’m her oldest friend, and I can’t do anything about that. I wouldn’t want to, anyway. She’s a good person, Kate. She’s just not very careful sometimes. You know that. Remember that she’s your friend, too.”

  “Was,” Kate said.

  “Oh, Katie.” Drew sighed. “Please don’t make this into a bigger deal than it is. I am with you. Not Carmen.”

  Then he had pulled her toward him, and she found herself snuggling into his broad warm chest. It was almost against her will, but it felt so nice. “I guess I forgive you,” she said eventually. “But next time you want to make out with someone? Tell me, okay?”

  “Okay.” He paused. “I want to make out with someone.”

  She started. “Wha—”

  “You,” he interrupted. And then he’d pressed his lips to hers.

  Now here she was, having to go back in time for the cameras, having to pretend that none of it had happened.

  “Carmen’s on her way up,” Laurel said. “Let’s get this wig on you.”

  The lighting in the room was dimmer than the crew usually used, so when Kate looked in the mirror she saw a girl who looked exactly like old Kate. She touched the tips of the wig delicately, suddenly missing her real hair. The platinum pixie had been a hit with the press, and had even brought comparisons to Michelle Williams’s cute ’do, but it left Kate with very few styling options.

  When Carmen arrived, Laurel did a continuity check.

  “I had to get this blouse emergency dry-cleaned,” Carmen said, holding out a sleeve. “I got olive oil on it.”

  “Good job,” Laurel said. Satisfied with her inspection, she led Carmen into the room.

  Kate and Carmen didn’t meet each other’s eyes, but Kate heard her murmur a shy “Hey.”

  Laurel snapped her fingers. “Okay, ladies, so we’re back to the part where you’re talking about whether or not Sophia has feelings for Jay, and what that means for Gaby. This is our A story, so we need a scene with you guys reacting, talking about how Gaby is going to handle it now that she’s sober.”

  If she’s sober, Kate thought.

  Laurel gave them a falsely cheerful smile. “Okay?” She looked down at her notes. “Also, if you could mention that Sophia invited Jay to lunch the other day that would be great.” She leaned in a little closer and lowered her voice. “Look, I know neither one of you wants to be here, but we really need this scene to pull the episode together, so let’s hit our points and we’ll be done quickly.”

  “‘Quickly’ sounds good,” Kate said coldly.

  Laurel smiled uncomfortably at the two girls. “Right. Let’s get the camera rolling, okay?”

  And so Carmen and Kate sat in the living room together, pretending that it was two weeks ago and they weren’t in a fight.

  “Nice hair,” Carmen said, smiling.

  The compliment would end up on the cutting room floor, obviously, but it was an attempt at breaking the ice. A joke.

  Well, Kate didn’t think it was funny. She smiled back thinly. She was going to hit her lines and be done with this shoot as soon as humanly possible. “Did you hear that Sophia and Jay have been hanging out?”

  Carmen nodded. “I know. I can’t say I’m that surprised, but it’s pretty uncool of them. Do you think that Gaby knows? I’d be kind of upset if my friend was calling the guy I was dating to hang out.”

  Kate realized the deep irony of this staged conversation, given her and Carmen’s complicated romantic crossovers. They’d practically partner-swapped. She waited a beat or two, letting the camera capture her bemused expression as Madison had coached her. “Yeah. It’s really uncool of Sophia,” she said. “Just because she likes Jay, or thinks he’s hot or whatever, it doesn’t mean she can, like, go for him. Honestly, what kind of girl does that?”

  Carmen tossed her head, sending her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “Sophia is a free spirit,” she said. “I’m sure she means no harm.”

  Kate barked a laugh. “That girl is not harmless. God, ask her sister about that sometime.”

  “Well, maybe she wasn’t really thinking about it that way,” Carmen said, an edge creeping into her voice. “Maybe she and Jay are just good friends.”

  Kate understood that the conversation had shifted, and they were talking not about Sophia and Jay, but about Carmen and Drew. She leaned forward. “Maybe Sophia should learn that being a spoiled brat and thinking she should get whatever she wants is not an excuse for making a play for someone else’s boyfriend.”

  “Well, maybe Sophia thinks Gaby’s overreacting,” Carmen replied.

  From behind the cameras Laurel shouted, “Kate, take off the wig!”

  Kate pulled the wig off and threw it out of frame before continuing. She instinctually tugged off her sweater, too, so she’d look different if they used clips from both conversations. Madison had taught her well. Trevor might get a pickup scene and a fight out of one single night’s reel. “I realize that you’re used to getting your way, Carmen. I know Mommy and Daddy gave you everything you ever wanted. But you can’t have everything.”

  “Don’t be—”

  Kate didn’t let her go on. “You can’t steal someone’s boyfriend. Drew isn’t a Phillip Lim tank top.”

  “You know I didn’t steal that, Kate,” Carmen said. Her cheeks were flushed. “And you know that Drew and I are like this”—she held up two crossed fingers—“and that we were best friends when you were still in Ohio, wearing your hair in pigtails and fantasizing about trying out for the cheerleading team.”

  Kate scoffed. “Don’t make this about me,” she said. “You’re the one who did a terrible thing, and for the first time in your life, you’re having to pay for your actions.”

  “Like you’ve never made a mistake? Because I seem to remember you stumbling through a live-air interview, so blitzed on Xanax that you could barely pronounce your own name.”

  Kate lowered her voice. She was seriously pissed now. “Like I said, Little CC, don’t make this about me. It’s about you. And Drew doesn’t like you in that way, in case he didn’t make that clear enough by turning you down. He likes me.”

  Carmen stood up. “I don’t want to be having this conversation anymore,” she said. Then she took off her mike pack, dropped it on the floor, and left, waving to Laurel on the way out. “I hope you got what you needed. I hope you’re happy,” she called, and slammed the door behind her.

  Laurel came hurrying over. “Did I ever,” she said to Kate. “That was great.”

  Kate wished she could share Laurel’s enthusiasm. She didn’t want to fight over Drew anymore. She wanted the drama to be over, and she knew he did, too. A sinking feeling in her stomach told her that Drew wouldn’t like being the subject of a fight—especially when that fight was going to be aired on national TV.

  She sighed heavily. “I think I need to go for a walk. You’re done with me for the night, right?”

  Laurel nodded and waved her on—her phone was ringing. No doubt Trevor was calling to check up on the shoot. The security guy was still lost in his Angry Birds game and didn’t even notice Kate slip by.

  Kate went downstairs and stepped outside into the cool evening, but then she stopped in confusion. She didn’t have a destination in mind, and she’d never just taken a walk from her place in Park Towers. She’d drive to Griffith Park or Runyon to hike, or else she’d drive to La Brea for a stroll and some window-shopping. What should she do now? Where should she go? L.A. felt strange and unfamiliar all of a sudden—as if she’d traveled back in time to the day she arrived, wide-eyed and nervous, toting Lucinda, a few boxes of books, and a wardrobe sourced almost exclusively from Old Navy.

  Kate shook her head and pulled out her phone. Maybe she’d call Drew while dipping her toes in the Park Towers hot tub. He’d help her feel more at home (even if he was way off somewhere in the East Village). She was dialing him when she heard some
one yelling her name, KateHayesKateHayes, like it was all one word. She looked up and saw a tall, slender, red-haired guy rushing toward her.

  “KateHayes, I’ve written you so many letters, why haven’t you written me back?” His voice was breathless and excited. He was grinning at her, but there was something wrong with this smile—he looked completely and totally insane.

  “It’s me, J.B.,” he cried as he approached her. “I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”

  Kate gave her stalker one horrified glance, and then she turned and sprinted back inside.

  20

  PRETTY GOOD WHILE IT LASTED

  Madison sat fidgeting in her seat at the small deli in Santa Monica. She’d already torn one cocktail napkin to shreds, and she was working on another. Was this a good idea? Or a terrible mistake?

  Relax, she told herself. It’s not like there’s an endorsement on the line here. Or a new show on Gallery.

  But as she watched Ryan Tucker enter the restaurant and walk across the room toward her, Madison realized that this lunch felt like a bigger deal than any business meeting. She offered him a small smile as he approached.

  He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. She flinched a little at his touch—not because she didn’t want it, but because she did. More than she cared to admit.

  A waiter started to approach them, but Madison waved him away. She wanted to have Ryan to herself, if only for a few more minutes.

  Ryan might have had the same idea; he sat down across from her and pushed aside the menu without even looking at it. “You look beautiful,” he said, his green eyes flashing. “How are you?”

  He seemed glad to see her, but there was something guarded in his smile, Madison thought. It reminded her of the way he used to look at her, during her first weeks at Lost Paws. How sometimes he would stand in the hallway and watch her cleaning cages, shaking his head minutely, as if he were observing a person from a foreign place.

  At the time, she’d found his behavior—and him—so annoying. She cleaned out cages like anyone else did; she just did so in better, trendier clothes. The irony of it hadn’t been lost on her. Ryan had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth; Madison had come into the world with the equivalent of a plastic spork. Yet he’d taken her for a privileged brat.

  Madison and Ryan came from radically different places, and they seemed to be heading in different directions, too. So what had brought them together? Sometimes Madison couldn’t figure it out herself. They laughed at the same jokes; they shared a secret hatred of Pinkberry; they were both afraid of heights, deep water, and clowns. On the surface, it didn’t seem like much. And yet they had a great time together. They understood each other. And they’d had a hard time keeping their hands off each other. All in all, it was pretty good while it lasted.

  She felt a twinge of annoyance suddenly. It wasn’t her fault everything had fallen apart. Maybe if Ryan hadn’t gotten in that car accident that killed his best friend, being in the spotlight wouldn’t have bothered him so much. She immediately felt bad for having such a thought.

  “I’m good,” she said belatedly. “Carmen and Kate are in a fight. Gaby might be drinking again. My sister is being her typical self, which means that I’ve been trying to avoid her as much as possible. And next week I’m meeting with a producer at a competing network to discuss my future in television. How about you?”

  “Well, the shelter is expanding,” Ryan said, the pride obvious in his voice. “We’re building an addition on the back, which will house the so-called violent breeds—pits, rotts, mastiffs. . . .” He shook his head. “Everyone blames the pit bull, but do you know how vicious Chihuahuas can be? Those things don’t care how small they are. They will attack.”

  “You think I don’t remember Tiny? That guy nearly took a chunk out of my arm.”

  “Oh, riiiight,” Ryan said, nodding. “I guess I forgot. Yeah, he’s sorry about that.”

  “I might still have a scar.” She held out her tanned, toned arm so he could inspect it. She knew perfectly well that there was no scar.

  Ryan reached for her wrist and held it. “Looks good to me,” he said. His fingers were warm and gentle on her skin.

  Madison let herself enjoy the feeling for another moment before delicately pulling her arm away. “Do you want to order something?” she asked. She didn’t even need to open the menu to know she wouldn’t want anything; she’d never been a sandwich girl. Plus she’d told herself she’d start a cleanse this week, and today was as good a day as any to begin.

  “I’ll have a sandwich or something,” he said.

  “They have about fifty different kinds here,” she pointed out.

  He shrugged. “I’ll tell them to surprise me.”

  Madison glanced around for the waiter, but instead met the eye of a woman at the table next to them. She nodded politely, and then turned back to Ryan. She’d seen the woman watching her in her peripheral vision.

  “Recognized, huh?” Ryan asked. But it wasn’t really a question.

  “Pretty much always,” she said. She kept her voice neutral, as if this were a simple fact as opposed to something she’d worked for every single day of her life. As if anonymity weren’t a fate worse than death.

  “I saw you the other day on the cover of Life and Style,” he said.

  She raised an eyebrow. “What were you doing reading Life and Style?”

  “I was standing in line at the grocery store.”

  Madison smiled. She was well aware of the spread he was referring to, because she’d orchestrated it herself. She had called her favorite photographer and let him know that she and Kate Hayes would be hiking at Runyon. “Hiking helps her process her feelings of betrayal. I’ve really been a shoulder for her to lean on during this whole thing,” Madison had said. She knew that this kind of information would help determine the caption, not to mention the photos that were selected.

  And sure enough, it had. There were several shots of Kate looking thoughtful and sad, as well as shots of Madison looking attentive and sympathetic (in a sports bra). It was perfect, and Kate, who was learning the Way of Madison, was pleased with it. She was certainly defeating Carmen in the PR war. If the fight were actually about anything significant—which, when it came down to it, the kiss wasn’t—Madison would have expected to see Team Kate and Team Carmen shirts lining windows of the crappy souvenir stores on Hollywood Boulevard.

  But she didn’t want to tell Ryan this. “You mean the shots of us hiking? Yeah, it’s been sort of hard for Kate lately. I’m trying to be there for her.”

  Ryan reached out and touched Madison’s wrist again. “You know, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to create photo ops and hang out with people who’re fighting over the same guy. You don’t have to jump into a town car and hit a red carpet just because it’s there.”

  “And what do you think I should do instead?” Madison asked, an edge coming into her voice. How had he known she’d staged the photos with Kate?

  “You could come back to the shelter,” Ryan said.

  “Are you kidding? My nails finally grew back. I’m not going to do more manual labor.”

  “You could do PR stuff for us,” he said.

  “Is that why you wanted to have lunch? To ask me about coming to work for you?”

  Ryan shook his head. “No. I wanted to see you. I’m saying all this to keep you here at the table with me.”

  “I wasn’t leaving,” Madison said.

  “I know, but I keep thinking that you might.”

  “If you keep bossing me around,” she said, “it gets more and more likely.” But in truth, she kept having the urge to lean across the table and kiss him.

  Not that she was going to.

  “I want what’s best for you,” Ryan said. “I wish you hung out with . . . healthier people.”

  Madison bristled. Ryan was just trying to be nice, but it felt more like she was being judged. “Like you and your perfect family? Well, we don’t all have happy
J. Crew models for parents and adorable twin sisters. Some of us have had a harder life, Ryan, and we have to work to stay on top.”

  Ryan ran his hands through his hair. “Madison, I don’t want to fight with you. I was trying . . . I don’t know. I’m trying to make you understand that I care about you.”

  “But not enough to be with me.”

  He leaned forward. “It’s not that. It’s just that . . . I want to be a part of your life, but I can’t be in that part of your life.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard this stuff before,” Madison said. “I can choose you or the camera.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you did, Ryan, you only used more words to do it. So maybe you’re fighting the good fight, saving animals, all that. Maybe you know something about a giant trust you’re coming into the moment you hit twenty-five. Hooray. Maybe you feel settled. Well, good for you! But don’t question my choices because they’re different from the ones you’d make.” She pushed her chair back from the table. The waiter, who had finally reappeared, stopped in his tracks. “I should probably get going,” she said. Their relationship, whatever it was, was too complicated for her to deal with right now.

  “But lunch—” Ryan began.

  “I’m on a cleanse,” Madison said. She stood. “It was really nice seeing you. And I mean that.”

  His eyes searched her face. “Mad, can’t we talk some more?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said softly. “Not right now.” Then she turned and walked away.

  She had a few thoughts to ponder as she waited for the valet to bring her Lexus around. One: She did want to see Ryan again, but she wasn’t about to admit it to him. Two: She hoped he was smart enough to figure that out. Smart enough to try a bit harder to win her back. Three: It was really too bad that he wouldn’t film, because that would have been a killer scene.

  21

  A STAR WAITING TO SHINE

  “Of course, Mrs. Garcia,” Trevor said, nodding sympathetically, though Mrs. Garcia couldn’t see him through the phone. “We only want the best for your daughter. That’s why we agreed to pay so much of her rehab costs, even though we, as a show and as a network, bear no responsibility for her use of alcohol or prescription drugs, or her subsequent . . . mishap.” Trevor sounded calm, though he felt like throwing the phone across the room.