“A month or two. I’m a little stumped at the moment, so I thought I’d call you for some inspiration.”
My heart started racing. Jagger found me inspiring!
“When I’m blocked I often find talking to someone will help,” he went on. “I’ve actually struck up conversations with the garbage man, just to get my mind recharged. You’d be amazed how inspiring that can be.”
Oh, great. I was in the same category as the garbage man.
“What’s new with you?” I asked, for lack of anything else to say. Suddenly I felt stumped. It was one thing talking to him when the cameras were rolling. I’d done that before, I was comfortable with it. But this was different.
“I’ve got an audition next week for some voice work,” he said. “My agent’s trying to get me on a new Disney film.”
“Wow.” I breathed. “That’s really cool. I keep forgetting how famous you are.”
He burst out laughing. “Not even.”
“Oh, come on,” I said. “You’re Mister Television and Feature Film Star.”
“I’ve done one television show, a handful of commercials, and I might—might—get some vocal work on a Disney film. It’s a really small part. Literally. I’m auditioning to play a talking snail.”
I laughed. “You’re still pretty famous.”
“You’re as famous as I am. We were on the same show, remember?”
I plopped down on the bed. “I guess you’re right. I never thought of it that way.”
“Speaking of From Fat to Fabulous, are you in touch with any of the other girls? Regan? Janelle? I know you guys were tight.”
“I haven’t spoken to them, no. But we traded contact info so I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”
“That’s great,” Jagger said. “I feel kind of weird saying this, but I really miss those girls. I felt like I got to know you all so well.”
“You could call them,” I suggested.
“I don’t think it’s my place.”
“You called me,” I pointed out.
“That’s . . . different. You and I are different.”
“Are we?” I asked, my breath quickening. “How do you figure?”
“Now you’re embarrassing me.” He cleared his throat. “I’m going to get all shy.”
“You? Shy? Be serious! You’re one of the most outgoing people I’ve ever met!”
“I am serious, Kat.” Jagger lowered his voice. “You probably think I lead this crazy party lifestyle, when in fact I’m a total homebody.”
“That’s pretty hard to picture,” I admitted. “Then again, you know everything about me, and I know virtually nothing about you,” I said. “I don’t even know your vital stats.”
“My vital stats?” he repeated, laughing. “Like what? Age, rank, and serial number?”
“You know what I mean. Your age, your favorite color, your favorite sport, favorite actors. Simple things like that I have no idea about.”
“Ah, I see. Okay, then. I’m twenty-eight; I’ll be twenty-nine in March. Which makes me a Pisces, if you’re into that. My favorite color is blue, and my favorite sport is basketball. My favorite actor is Kevin Spacey, my favorite actress Amy Adams. Anything else?”
“I think that about covers it.”
“That reminds me. You know the network’s planning a sequel, don’t you?”
I tensed up. “To From Fat to Fabulous?”
“It’s a definite possibility, but don’t say anything to anybody. I’m two steps away from losing this gig as is.”
I blinked in surprise. “You’re kidding! They wouldn’t do From Fat to Fabulous 2 without you as a host?”
Jagger paused. I was afraid I’d touched off a nerve.
“It’s complicated,” he finally said. “Let’s just say Zaidee wasn’t a hundred percent thrilled with my performance.”
“Really?” I grimaced at the memory of his many cornball antics.
“She thought I wasn’t dramatic enough, among other things. There’s also a strong possibility they’ll want to go with a female host next time. Someone who’s very, ah, how do I put this? The phrase Zaidee used was ‘Baywatch bombshell.’ She thinks it will create all kinds of drama in the house to have a bikini model hosting the show. Personally, I don’t see it.”
Apparently, he didn’t realize how jealous women could get. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. I’m at least partly to blame for the situation. On some levels I overstepped my role.”
I couldn’t help but ask, “How?”
“You really want to know?”
“Of course,” I said. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s cool. I want to.” He paused for a long moment. “It was because I kissed you,” he said, his voice dipping down into a whisper.
I could actually hear my heart pounding.
“I wasn’t supposed to get involved with any of the contestants—it’s actually in my contract. That’s why I was so cold toward the end. Zaidee threatened to fire me if I didn’t stop fraternizing with you.”
So he wasn’t mad at me !
“Now she’s worried I’ll try and hit on the contestants in the sequel. Which is stupid, because I’m nothing like that.”
I felt my voice catch in my throat.
“Blame it all on me,” I said quickly. “I’m the one who kissed you, not the other way around. And I was drunk. It was nothing more than a stupid, drunken mistake. I’ll tell Zaidee that myself.”
“A stupid, drunken mistake,” Jagger repeated. “Does that mean you regret it?” he asked point blank.
I gulped. “Honestly?”
“Yes.”
I took a deep breath. It was so hard to say the words. I had to practically force them out, kicking and screaming. “I don’t regret it, no.”
“Kat, this might be hard for you to believe, but around women I get so shy and nervous that everything I say comes out wrong.” He paused. “But with you it was different right from the start. You were so feisty, and not afraid to speak your mind. Win or lose, you just put yourself out there. You took risks. And for some reason I felt comfortable around you. It takes me so long to be comfortable around people, but with you it happened right away.”
Hearing him say that felt incredible. I struggled to maintain my composure. “Thanks,” I managed.
“And at first I just thought of us as good friends, but then when you kissed me—”
“Katrina!” my dad boomed, picking up the extension. My father has classically bad timing. “Are you still on the phone?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m talking to a friend of mine.”
“I need to call my buddy about our football pool. Can you wrap it up in five minutes?”
He clicked off the line before I could respond.
“Oh my God,” I groaned. I was dying to hear the rest of Jagger’s sentence. Talk about a mood killer.
“I’m so humiliated,” I told Jagger.
“Don’t be. Maybe we can talk again soon.”
“Okay. That would be great—”
“I ain’t getting any younger here.” My father was on the extension again.
“Dad! It hasn’t even been one minute! You said I could have five!”
“When you pay the phone bill you can have as much time as you want.”
Ugh! This was like being in high school all over again.
Dad hung up again and I let out a sigh.
“When exactly are you going home to Memphis?” Jagger asked, laughing.
“Five more days,” I groaned. “Five more days.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The final week at my parents’ condo flew by. I had expected it to drag, but before I knew it, I was hopping a Delta flight back to Memphis.
Jagger and I had exchanged several e-mails, since I didn’t dare attempt to talk to him on the phone again until I was in my own apartment. He was intriguing and complicated—two qualities I love in a guy—and we continued ou
r flirtation. But we never discussed the kiss. I was dying to learn what his intentions toward me were.
***
I arrived home to find things in an unexpectedly pristine condition. My apartment had never looked so good. It was spotless. No, make that impeccable.
Someone had cleaned the place within an inch of its life. The kitchen floor had been mopped and waxed. The refrigerator—barren, except for a few canned soft drinks and light beers—had been scrubbed. My bathroom was immaculate. My living room and bedroom had been dusted and vacuumed, and my bed was freshly made with clean sheets. My fish were alive and well-fed.
Donna was the only person who’d had access to my place while I was away. Why would she do something like this? A peace offering? A guilty conscience?
On the middle of the coffee table was an envelope with my name scrawled across the front in Donna’s loopy handwriting. I ignored it, instead opting to take a shower and unpack my suitcases.
Then, since there was no food in the house, I called the nearest Chinese take-out and ordered a carton of vegetable lo mein and garlic broccoli. When the food arrived, I devoured my meal in silence, not even bothering to switch on the television. It was an intense, dizzying feeling being alone again.
I had just finished eating when the phone rang. The sound was so deafening in the quiet apartment that I nearly leapt out of my skin. The Caller ID showed a Los Angeles area code, which caused my heart to flutter in my chest.
There was only one person it could be.
Jagger.
“Hi, Kat,” he said. “Is this a good time to talk?”
“Of course,” I said, it’s always a good time to talk to you.
He was awkward at first. “Did you make it back okay?”
“Safe and sound,” I quipped. “God, it feels good to be home.”
“I’ll bet. What’s it been, four months?”
“Something like that.”
“Do you have a roommate?” Jagger asked.
“Nope, just me, myself, and I.”
“How’d you keep your place up while you were in L.A.?”
It was a logical question, though it sent my mind reeling back to Donna, and the letter she had left. “Uh, my friend kept tabs on it.”
“Nice friend,” he said, not questioning the issue.
“So, what’s been going on?”
“I found out yesterday I didn’t get the Disney part. There will be no talking snail in my future.”
“Oh, no! I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I’m sure that other guy will do a horrendous job. They’ll rue the day they didn’t hire you.”
“Woman,” he corrected. “They went with a woman.”
“Well, they should have gone with you.” I paused, gathering up my nerve. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. The other night when we were talking on the phone and my dad picked up, you were about to say something. What was that?”
“Ahhh,” he said, chuckling. “I was wondering when we’d come back to this. You can’t see me, but my ears are turning pink right now.”
“Don’t be nervous,” I said, but secretly I found it adorable.
“So, uh, yeah, what I was saying the other night . . . I kind of thought of us as friends. I really liked being around you and having fun together. And I thought maybe we could keep in touch after the show wrapped.”
“Uh-huh. Was that all?” I prompted him.
He laughed. “But then when you kissed me it was strange.”
“Strange?” Oh God, I was a strange kisser?
“Unexpected is probably a better way to describe it. I felt so awful, knowing what Nick did to you. You played it off like you were strong, but I could see you were upset. And so I wasn’t thinking in terms of anything happening with us. But then you kissed me, and it felt amazing. And I hadn’t expected that. But I worried that maybe you had done it because you were vulnerable, and on the rebound.”
My body tingled all over. “No, it was nothing like that at all. I did it because I wanted to. But I was so drunk I honestly don’t remember it very well.” As soon as the words had left my mouth I wanted to take them back. “That probably didn’t come out right.”
“I know what you meant. That gives me an excuse to refresh your memory,” he teased.
“I’d like that,” I said. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t asleep.
“I had an idea the other day,” he began slowly. “I hope this isn’t too forward, but would you like to come out and visit me in L.A.?”
I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but I decided to run with it. “I’d love to. Just say the word and I’m there.”
“How about the week after next?”
I gasped. Apparently he was serious.
“Really?”
“Sure, why not? I’d love to see you again.”
“I’m supposed to go back to work at Hood and Geddlefinger soon. I mean, I’ve gotta call my boss and set up a start date. Besides, I’m totally strapped for cash.”
“I could buy your ticket,” he offered. “My dad’s a pilot for United, so I can get plane tickets dirt cheap. It would be like $50 dollars, tops.”
“That’s really sweet of you to offer,” I said.
“Where would I stay?”
“You could stay at my house. I’ve got a guest bedroom that I never use. I could take you out, show you around L.A. How does that sound?”
It sounded amazing, magical, enticing . . . scary. “Can I have a few days to think it over?”
He laughed. “Of course you can. But there’s something else I should probably tell you. I do have an ulterior motive for inviting you here.”
I braced myself. “A good friend of mine named Ronnie Mendhelson is working on a project for MTV,” he said. “She’s developing a morning show, Wake-Up Call, that’s being billed as The View for the eighteen-to-twenty-five set.”
“Okay,” I said, not seeing where he was headed. “Anyway, I mentioned to Ronnie how you and I were close and she got very excited. They’ve still got two hosting slots open and they’re looking to fill them with a soap-opera vixen and a reality star.”
My pulse quickened. “Meaning what?” I asked, not wanting to jump the gun.
“I was supposed to keep this on the down-low, but I can’t resist telling you. Ronnie said you were on their shortlist, along with a girl from Big Brother and an American Idol runner-up,” Jagger told me. “So I talked you up, told her you’re really funny and charming, and that there’s never a dull moment when you’re around. By the time I was finished, she was practically salivating!”
I wasn’t sure which was more exciting—that Jagger had called me “funny and charming” or that I was on the shortlist for an MTV show!
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope, I’m totally serious. Now I don’t know if you’d be interested in doing another TV show. That’s something you’d have to decide. But Ronnie’s dying to talk with you. My gut tells me you’re a shoo-in for this, Kat. If you flew out here week after next you could kill two birds with one stone—hang out with me and meet with Ronnie and the MTV team in person.”
“Why on earth would she be interested in me? Why not get some twenty-something hard body?” Good move, Kat. Talk yourself out of a job. But I couldn’t help it, I had to be honest. “I have no track record. I’m a reality TV has-been. I’m ‘Kat the Brat!’ What good am I to them?”
Jagger laughed. “Don’t you get it? Yes, you were ‘The Brat’ but everybody knew your name. A lot of people loved you and a lot of people hated you, but either way, they all tuned in to watch you. Kat, don’t you know? You were the breakout star!”
***
I’d been putting it off for long enough and I knew it was time. With a pit the size of a boulder in my stomach, I retrieved Donna’s letter from the coffee table and tore into it:
Dear Kat, I owe you an explanation. I don’t know if what I have to say will change anything or not. Bu
t I have to try. Yes, I told Nick about the show. Not that it matters anymore, but I’ll tell you my reasons. When you went out to Los Angeles, I sent out the e-mails just like you’d asked me to and things were going smoothly. At first, Nick was worried about your dad. But then he called your parents’ house and found out your father wasn’t sick, and he was livid. He wanted to know why you’d lied. He was threatening to end things—to never speak to you again. He said that, no matter how bad the truth was, it was better than lies. So I told him. I told him about From Fat to Fabulous. I thought that maybe if he knew the great lengths you were going to—that you were willing to lose weight just to be with him—he’d finally be convinced that you cared. How many women would embarrass themselves on national TV to win a guy’s heart?
I thought he’d understand, and that everything would work out for you two. Never in a million years did I dream it could backfire the way it did. When I found out Nick had contacted Zaidee and was being brought onto the show I didn’t know how to react. I wanted to protect you, to warn you.
But there was nothing I could do. I had created this monster, and now I had to watch you live through it on national television. When you first got out, I couldn’t face you. I was too ashamed. I saw the way you’d been talking about me, and I knew how angry you were. I had nothing to say for myself. I didn’t think I could make the situation any better. I wasn’t trying to be malicious. I really thought I was doing the right thing. That doesn’t make it better, but at least now you know why. There’s something else you need to know. If you never listen to another word I say, hear me now: I love you, Kat. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.
On the show, you wondered out loud if I could name even one thing about our relationship that I valued.
I can’t name one thing. I value everything.
Love, Donna
I folded the letter up and placed it back in the envelope, letting her words sink in. For the first time, I understood the position I’d put her in. She’d been backed up against a wall, sucked into a stupid web of lies that I’d created. She’d only been trying to help.
The Next Big Thing Page 29