“And a guy.” Massie couldn’t help herself.
Alicia and Hadley burst out laughing. Kristen’s cheeks turned bright red.
“Heyyyyy.” Dylan inserted herself into the conversation. “Wha’d I miss?” A red curl was stuck to her lip gloss.
“Abby and I have matching haircuts.” Kristen beamed.
“And look at Hadley’s shoes.” Claire pointed. “We have the same Keds.”
“Ahdorable!” Dylan shouted. “You have to show my mom. It’s like that special she did called ‘Bankrupt and Beautiful,’ about regular people who spend their savings to look like celebrities. She won an Emmy for that.”
Massie rolled her eyes. Dylan was ahb-viously showing off.
“How do you feel?” she smirked. “Did you make it to the bathroom in time?”
“Yup.” Dylan didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. “Glad that’s over.” She grabbed her butt cheeks. “I had to grow a tail in the biggest way.”
“Ew!” Alicia cracked up.
Hadley dropped her plate of strawberries on the glass coffee table.
“Sorry.” Massie apologized on Dylan’s behalf. “She didn’t mean to—”
“Did you just say ‘grow a tail’?” Hadley knit her arched eyebrows.
“Yeah.” Dylan giggled.
“That is so effing genius.” Hadley high-fived her. “Gabor is going to love that!” She whipped out her Motorola Sidekick and began thumbing the keypad at top speed.
“Classic.” Abby snapped three times.
“Isn’t it?” Massie tried to laugh with them. But nothing came out.
VILLAGE STUDIOS
GREEN ROOM
Monday, March 9th
8:50 A.M.
“Audio!” shouted a scruffy blond dude in a faded New York University tee. He was in the center of the bustling green room craning his neck. “Abby? Hadley?”
Claire tapped Hadley’s bony shoulder. “I think that guy’s looking for you.”
“Meow!” Abby shoved Hadley aside. “Over here, cow-boy.” She waved.
With a quick nod, he hurried toward her.
“He looks more like Mickey Mouse in those big headphones,” Claire said.
Everyone cracked up except Massie.
“I’m Erik.” He sounded out of breath. “I need to get these mics on you. We’re live in ten minutes.”
He ran a thin wire up Hadley’s J’ADORE GABOR shirt, then clipped a tiny round microphone to her collar. “Thanks.” She smiled.
His cheeks flushed.
“My turn.” Abby stuck out her chest like he was their plastic surgeon. “You are too cute. And I never go for blonds.” She grinned. “Tell me you’re single and I’ll stuff you in my Balenciaga and take you back to Beverly Hills.”
“Ehmagawd, I have a Balenciaga too!” Dylan beamed.
“It’s right over—” She started spinning in circles like a dog chasing its tail. “Ehmagawd, it’s gone! I must have left it in the bathroom.” Her panic-filled eyes begged for help.
Unsure of what a Balenciaga was or how to react when one goes missing, Claire plopped down on the white couch, hoping her ignorance would go unnoticed.
“I’ll find it,” Massie volunteered, probably to show Abby and Hadley what a good friend she was.
“Let me help.” Alicia raced to Massie’s side.
“I’ll wait here.” Claire brought her knees to her chest, the way Abby had earlier.
“Me too.” Kristen joined her.
Massie hooked her thumbs through her belt loops. “I think you should come with us.”
“It’s cool, they can hang.” Hadley twirled one of her braids.
Claire smiled graciously.
“No,” Massie snapped. “It’s not.”
Claire and Kristen exchanged a glance.
“I’m serious.” Massie stomped her foot. “Dylan needs us right now.”
The girls exchanged another glance while Massie stood above them tapping her foot. Alicia’s arms were folded across her C-cups.
“You’re right.” Kristen pulled herself up to stand.
Claire sighed and did the same. She was too embarrassed to say goodbye to Hadley and hurried off.
“I don’t understand why we all have to go.” Kristen pulled her book bag out from under the food table and followed Massie into the hall.
“Because we’re BFFs and we help each other in emergencies.”
“Point,” Alicia sneered.
“Sorry,” Kristen murmured.
“Found it!” Dylan shouted when the girls entered the bathroom. She was leaning against the silver trough sink, cradling the red leather bag like she had just birthed it from her loins.
“Cool, now can we go back?” Claire gripped the door handle.
“No,” Dylan whispered. “Close it. Close it.”
“Why?” She stepped back inside.
“I have some news that’s worth at least, hmmmmm.” Dylan bit her lip and searched the ceiling. “One thousand gossip points.”
“Shut up!” Alicia slapped her arm. “I only got five hundred for ‘Lara Davis pees her bed.’ And there’s no way yours can beat that.”
Dylan stuck out her hand. “Bets?”
Massie swatted her hand away.
“I’ll decide when I hear it.”
“Okay, so after I grew a tail, I went to say hi to Sheena, my mom’s stylist.” Dylan started off whispering but quickly returned to her regular tone. “And she told me that Abby was on her Sidekick, like, the entire time she was getting her hair done.”
Massie fake-yawned. “Borrr-ing.”
Everyone cracked up.
“Stop laughing.” Dylan punched her Balenciaga. “That’s ahb-viously not the best part.”
“Hurry up, then.” Kristen checked her cell phone. “The show is live in, like, three minutes.”
Dylan took a deep breath, then continued. “So, Sheena saw that Abby got an e-mail from her friend Suki, who asked if she hooked up with Gabor after their date last night.”
“Wait, isn’t Gabor Hadley’s boyfriend?” Claire asked.
“Exactly!” Dylan gave her a playful shove, accidentally knocking Claire into the tampon dispenser.
“Ehmagawd, so what did Abby say?” Alicia flapped her hands like a cuckoo bird in flight. “Did she hook up with Gabor?”
“Abby wrote back, ‘Of course we hooked up, we always do.’”
Everyone’s mouths hung open, but no one said a word.
“It turns out Abby and Gabor have been hooking up behind Hadley’s back for weeks.”
“Ehmagawd, first Palmer, now Gabor!” Alicia pounded her fist on the steel trough.
“Abby is pathological.” Kristen sounded disgusted.
Claire wondered if anyone knew what pathological meant, but everyone nodded in agreement so she did too.
“You totally earned your gossip points.” Massie whipped out her PalmPilot and added one thousand to Dylan’s score.
“All personnel to the studio floor. We are live in two minutes,” a deep male voice announced over the PA system.
Suddenly, a toilet flushed.
Claire’s spine stiffened. Gossip rule number one is: Never dish in a public bathroom. Even she knew that.
“Ehmagawd.” Dylan fanned her mouth like she had just bitten into a chili pepper.
“Run!” Massie whisper-yelled.
“Not to worry, girlies, your secret’s safe with me.” Calgary Edwards, Merri-Lee’s ah-nnoyingly perky cohost, raced out of the stall as though flames were shooting out of the bowl. She pumped some L’Occitane Verbena Harvest soap, turned the faucet with her elbow, and scrubbed vigorously. “I’m a vault.” She shook the water off her hands, then hurried out.
The girls burst out laughing the second she was gone.
“One minute to live, folks,” the voice announced. “Places.”
“Ehmagawd, the show’s about to start!” Kristen tossed her book bag under the trough.
“Follow me.” Dy
lan grabbed Massie’s wrist and led everyone through a maze of hallways. She parted two heavy black curtains and suddenly, voilà!—they were on the set of The Daily Grind.
“Wow,” was all Claire could say. She had spent hundreds of mornings watching Merri-Lee and her guests chat about movies, music, and fashion from The Daily Grind’s famous rotating stage. And now she was there, close enough to touch it.
Everything looked the way it did on TV, only smaller. As expected, the panoramic photo of the New York skyline hung behind Merri-Lee’s desk. Her cappuccino cart was in arm’s reach of her leopard-print wing chair, and the guest couch was covered in white faux fur. The flat-screen monitor she used to interview her guests on the West Coast was getting a quick spray-down with Windex, but other than that, it looked the same too. The only thing that seemed different was the audience applause. It was ten times louder in person, especially once the band busted into the show’s jazzy theme. Everyone put down their complimentary coffee, jumped to their feet, and started dancing. Claire shook her hips, wishing Cam could see.
“Kuh-laire, we’re VIPs!” Massie hissed. “Stop acting like them.” She tilted her head toward the audience.
“Sorry.” She stopped moving and did her best to look bored and unimpressed.
“Ready, girlies?” Calgary smoothed her sexy tan business suit.
“Ready!” Claire responded as if they were about to take the stage together.
“’Scuse me, Calgary?” Erik, the scruffy audio guy, gently placed a hand on her back. “Remember to turn your microphone off when you use the ladies’ room. You are patched through to the house speakers, and we can hear—”
“Oh no.” Calgary smacked her own forehead. “Could everyone on the studio floor hear me tinkle?”
He lowered his head and nodded.
“IT’SSSSS THE DA-ILY GRIIIIIND!” the show’s announcer roared.
The audience exploded with applause.
“THE WEEKEND IS FINALLY OVER, AND IT’S TIME TO GET DOWN TO SOME SERIOUS BUSINESS!”
That was Calgary’s cue. She strode on set swinging her emerald-green alligator briefcase.
“She is so busted,” Massie said into her cupped hands.
The girls giggled into their palms, tears gathering in their eyes.
“Imagine if she had the thunda from down unda?” Dylan burst out into hysterics.
“We wouldn’t have to imagine,” Alicia snorted. “We’d hear it.”
They cracked up even harder.
“Ehmagawd, look.” Kristen’s smile faded.
They followed her gaze to the watercooler on the side of the set and saw Hadley jumping up and down on Abby’s gray fedora.
Massie twirled her long ponytail. “Serves Abby right for cutting her hair!”
“That hat belonged to my grandfather!” Abby shouted. “Give it!” She tugged one of Hadley’s braids. “Back!” She tugged the other.
“Well, Gabor was my boyfriend.” Hadley kicked Abby’s shin.
She grabbed her leg. “You can have him. He kisses like a snapping turtle.”
“AND NOW FOR EVERYONE’S FAVORITE BOSS, MERRI-LEE MARVIL!”
Dylan’s mom bounded onto the set from the far side of the stage. Her red wavy hair bounced with every step she took. She blew kisses to her fans, completely unaware of her feuding guests. Once she was seated in her leopard-print chair, Merri-Lee held her yellow mug in front of her lips and waited for the audience to quiet down.
“The show is starting.” Claire tugged Massie’s tunic.
“Puh-lease. This is way more exciting than The Daily Grind. It’s an Us Weekly cover in the making. Quick, where’s your camera?”
“No pictures!” Kay, the production assistant, appeared out of nowhere.
“How could you do this to me again?” Hadley smacked the top of the watercooler, her cheeks streaked with mascara.
“Stop being so dramantic.” Abby popped open her blue ring and checked her reflection in the tiny mirror inside. “Anyway…” She snapped it shut. “You can’t prove anything.”
“Yes I can,” Hadley continued, sobbing. “I heard those girls talking about it in the bathroom. Everyone in the whole studio heard the news, thanks to Calgary’s microphone!”
“I must have missed that,” Abby smirked. “While I was in the photo booth having text-sex with your boyfriend.”
Hadley charged headfirst into her stomach.
“Ooph!” Abby grabbed her abs and gasped for air.
“Now put your hands together for the stars of the upcoming feature Dial L for Loser, Hadley Durk and Abby Boyd!” Merri-Lee stood and applauded.
“Now!” Kay nudged the girls toward the set, ignoring their scuffle. “Hurry!”
“You might as well take this.” Hadley pulled off her J’ADORE GABOR shirt and whipped it at Abby’s head.
“Maybe if you did that more often, Gabor wouldn’t have cheated on you!” Abby shouted.
“Ladies, we’re live!” Kay shouted. “Go! Go!”
“Hadley Durk and Abby Boyd!” Merri-Lee repeated, her eyes searching the set.
Hadley folded her arms across her black demi-cup bra.
“Now!” shouted Kay.
“I can’t go out like this!” Hadley stood firm in her striped Keds.
Kay nudged her. “You should have thought of that before! We’re live! Now go!”
“I am so not going out there with that illiterate maneater,” Hadley insisted.
“Yes! You! Are!” Kay shoved the shirtless actress onto the set, then circled back for Abby.
Once they were both on the rotating stage, Kay rested her head in her hands, shoulders shaking.
“Well, talk about a publicity stunt.” Merri-Lee smiled awkwardly as beads of sweat congregated above her top lip.
“This isn’t a publicity stunt, Merri-Lee.” Hadley snapped her own bra strap. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks looked like they’d been slapped by a wet oil painting. “I gave Abby my shirt before the show.”
“Why, might I ask?” Merri-Lee winked at the camera, letting the home audience know she was on the case.
Abby put her arm around Hadley like they were full-on BFFs. “Because our characters in the movie go to a party in their bras, and—”
“This has nothing to do with Dial L and you know it.” Hadley turned her back to Abby.
“Don’t do this.” Abby placed a hand on her shoulder but Hadley shrugged it away.
Massie, Dylan, Alicia, Kristen, and Claire grabbed one another’s wrists as tears gathered in Hadley’s eyes.
“This is so intense.” Kristen swallowed.
“Shhhhh,” everyone hissed.
“Abby stole my boyfriend. Again!” Hadley spoke directly to the camera.
The audience gasped.
“Explain how Gabor sticking his tongue down my larynx at an animal rights benefit is me stealing him?”
Merri-Lee forced a laugh, like a seasoned anchorwoman. “Unfortunately, we have to take a break, but when we get back, celebrity chef Rolo DiSanto will teach the girls how to make tofu lasagna.”
“Dial L for Lasagna,” Massie blurted from the side of her mouth.
The girls cracked up.
“Sounds delicious.” Calgary air-rubbed her stomach and licked her lips.
“Don’t go anywhere. We’ll be right back.” Merri-Lee held her smile as the show’s theme music began playing and the stage manager signaled the audience to cheer. When he lowered his arms, the applause died. So did Merri-Lee’s smile.
“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?”
Kay raced to the set with Hadley’s red studded shirt. Seconds later, the stars were surrounded by a mass of hysterical producers.
“This cahn’t be happening,” declared a male with an ahdorable British accent.
Massie turned around and locked eyes with Rupert Mann, the director of Dial L for Loser, whom she immediately recognized as number three on People magazine’s “Ten Hottest Bachelors in Hollywood
” list. He ran a hand through his ink-black hair, pushing his too-long-on-purpose bangs out of his cobalt-blue eyes.
“A deep tan and a good night’s sleep and he could have easily made number one,” Dylan whispered.
“Point,” Alicia said.
Rupert unwrapped a stick of Big Red and folded it into his mouth.
“Hi,” Massie blurted by accident.
“Do I know you?” he asked, unwrapping another stick of gum.
“Uh…” Massie paused, her mind racing. “Yeah, I was an extra in Hurry Up and Wait. I’m Massie, remember?”
“Roit, roit, of cose.” He ran a hand through his thick black hair.
Claire suddenly remembered why everyone worshiped Massie Block. She was totally fearless.
Boop-boop.
Boop-boop.
Rupert reached into the front pocket of his Diesels and answered his phone.
“Of couss I sawr it, you twit,” he spit. “The entia flippin’ country sawr it.… Hold on, I’ve got anotha call.… Hullo… Yes, I sawr it.… I know we start shooting in a week. Don’t you think I know that?… Hold awn, I’ve got anotha call.… Hullo…”
“’Scuse me.” A chubby production assistant in a white apron squeezed by with a silver cart of ingredients. He positioned it on set between Hadley and Abby.
“What do you think they’re saying out there?” Claire asked.
“Only one way to find out.” Massie suddenly pulled her onto the set.
“What are you doing?” Claire pretended to struggle, in case anyone was watching.
“Puh-lease. Do you really think anyone is paying attention to us?”
She had a point.
The producers, managers, and agents were too busy shouting at one another to notice that Hadley was slicing
the air with an uncooked lasagna noodle.
“You’re crazy!” Abby shook her head in utter disbelief.
“Oh, I’m crazy?” Hadley lurched forward and poked Abby’s arm with the noodle’s sharp corner.
“Ouch!”
Then she stuck her hand in the Pyrex bowl of shredded mozzarella.
“Don’t even think about it!” Abby warned.
“Okay, I won’t!” Hadley whipped a fistful of white cheese at her face.
Abby gripped the bowl of tomato sauce.
“Ehmagawd.” Claire lifted her hand to her mouth.
Dial L for Loser Page 5