Girls on film: an A-list novel

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Girls on film: an A-list novel Page 5

by Zoey Dean


  "Since now, I guess."

  "Anna, you don't even go to the movies. Now, if it was a novel--"

  "This is for school," Anna explained. "And I go to the movies."

  "Yeah, if there are subtitles."

  Anna smiled. She was used to Susan's ribbing, and she'd missed it. She'd missed her . "You should come to the spa with me. It'll be fun."

  "How do you know?" Susan's voice was skeptical.

  "I have a feeling Sam Sharpe doesn't do boring."

  "Girl Sam or boy Sam?"

  "Girl Sam. Jackson Sharpe's daughter."

  "Cool. I love Jackson Sharpe."

  "So come. Sam says this spa is incredible. Wouldn't you like a little first-class pampering?"

  "Yeah, actually I would. At Hazelden we had to scrub each other's toilets. My roommate made Ilsa, She-Wolf of the Nazi SS, look like a pussycat. While I was cleaning, she stood over me with a flipping checklist."

  Anna was incredulous. "You cleaned toilets?"

  " Toilet " Susan corrected. "After the first time, I paid someone else to do it. I mean, come on. I've got an eight-digit trust fund. How ludicrous is it to make me pretend to be humble?"

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  "I don't know. You live in the East Village and pretend to be poor," Anna pointed out.

  "Poor little rich girl, slumming it. I'm a cliché," Susan admitted.

  "I still don't understand why you live down there."

  "Hey, I'm the only girl on Avenue D who has a cleaning lady." They came to another light, and a silver Porsche Carrera pulled up alongside them. Susan looked over at the driver--a guy in his fifties--and revved the Mustang's engine. The guy grinned, and Susan winked at him. Anna remembered when her older sister had followed the rules of propriety even better than she had. But that felt like a long, long time ago.

  "I like the people who live downtown more than I like the people in our old stomping grounds," Susan said. "The air is just too-too on the Upper East Side. Besides, I love to make Mom apoplectic."

  Which Anna already knew. It just seemed like Susan should be getting over it already. But she didn't say anything as the light changed and Susan hit the gas pedal. "Follow that Bronco, the one turning right onto Beverly Drive. You make the right and then a quick left into the Beverly Hills Hotel drive."

  Susan made the same right turn as the Bronco, and a moment later they were passing the green-and-white sign welcoming visitors to the hotel. "Nice. I won't be missing my squalor at all."

  Susan stopped the car at the entrance. The same

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  valet who'd greeted Anna earlier opened the doors. "Welcome back, miss," he said to Anna.

  "Thank you. My sister will be checking in. Her bags are in the back."

  "Very good. Just go inside and register; I'll take care of these."

  Anna pressed a few dollars into his hand and then went inside with Susan.

  "So here's the plan, little sister," Susan said as they joined a short line at the registration desk. The hotel lobby was cavernous. Done in shades of pale pink and gray, with pale pink leather club chairs dotting the entire area, the whole expanse of it was shaded by giant potted palms.

  "I brought two string bikinis and one of 'em has your name on it. Let's go get changed, then sit by the pool and count how many guys try to hit on us."

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  A Private Screening

  Dee and Cammie hung out at the Beverly Hills Hotel the way other kids hung out at the mall. In fact, it just so happened that as Susan was checking into the hotel, they were fixing their makeup in the ladies' room just off the lobby. This was after spending the previous hour flirting with some guys at the bar in the Polo Lounge. Allegedly these guys were musicians, in town because their band was opening for Avril Lavigne at the Pond in Anaheim the next night.

  A quarter hour earlier the guys had invited Cammie and Dee to go club hopping. Dee had been ready to go, but Cammie wasn't so high on the idea. The guys had only rated a five on her basic one-to-ten scale, losing three points for opening for Avril but gaining a bonus point for their British accents. Dee had followed Cammie's lead in holding off from any firm response. Instead the girls had excused themselves to the restroom.

  As they stood in front of the mirrored vanity, Dee watched Cammie admire her own reflection. She wore a washed-pink La Perla silk camisole under a cropped

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  pink Gucci jacket, with jeans cut so low you could see her hip bones and even a hint of where those hip bones led. The strappy pink-and-white polka-dot open-toed pumps she'd special ordered from Christian Louboutin made her legs seem to go on forever. She had a perfect French manicure on her toenails and a Harry Winston gold-and-diamond ankle bracelet on her left ankle. As usual, her wild red-gold tendrils curled over one eye and halfway down her back.

  It was an accepted fact that Cammie knew she was gorgeous. In fact, she often said, if she ever had an inclination toward girls, the person she'd want to do was herself.

  Cammie retouched her lip gloss, and Dee instantly looked at her own lips. Thinner. Smaller. She sighed. It was impossible to be with Cammie and not be spellbound by her self-confidence.

  Not that looks are the most important thing, Dee mentally added . The flesh is fleeting, the body a mere vessel. Still, at least I'm better-looking than Sam.

  "So, do you want to go out with those guys?" Dee asked.

  Cammie sprayed herself with Tres Cammie, a made-to-order perfume her father had commissioned for her sixteenth birthday. "That's like asking if we want to be bored to death."

  "I wish you'd said that before. We could have made the six o'clock spinning class at Yoga Booty."

  "Spinning is for fools. We live in Los Angeles, where

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  you can ride seventeen miles right on the beach from Santa Monica to Palos Verdes. Who'd want to sit on a stationary bike in a gym and pedal to nowhere?"

  Dee sighed. Sometimes it was hard to be Cammie's best friend because Cammie had so many hostility issues. These last few days, especially, had been difficult. They'd seen Ben at the wedding with that new girl, Anna. Cammie had made a play to try to get him back. And Ben had turned her down.

  "You know, you were much nicer when you and Ben were a couple."

  Cammie dropped the tiny perfume bottle back into her Chanel clutch. "And?"

  " And I think you compare every guy you meet to him."

  "In his dreams." Cammie snorted.

  "Ben's awesome. I know how happy you were with him, and I know how much you want him back. I'm really sorry it's not all going according to plan." This was the very first time in Dee's memory that Cammie had not reeled in a boy she wanted. It was all because of Anna Percy. She had to give Anna props for that. Ben was a great guy. The happiest that Dee ever had seen Cammie was when she and Ben were a couple. Ben had made Cammie ... kinder. Not kind, but kinder.

  That wasn't to say that Dee thought Ben was right for Anna. He was so much more right for, say, her . She and Ben had shared that one magical night together in Princeton a couple of months ago on Dee's East Coast

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  college tour. He'd been a little wasted. Maybe even a lot wasted. But so what? It had still been magical.

  Cammie didn't even know the Dee-Ben interlude had ever occurred. Neither did Sam. Dee knew better than to tell either of her best friends anything truly important. But she'd mentioned it to Anna on New Year's Day, after deciding that in her own pursuit of Ben Birnbaum, the best defense was a good offense.

  Cammie shook her curls off her face. "I could get Ben back if I really wanted to."

  "Acceptance is the first step toward healing, Cammie."

  "Dee, please don't go all New Age on me. I'm so not in the mood." Cammie headed back to the Polo Lounge with Dee in her wake. "What I think we should do is-- wait a minute."

  "For what?" Dee asked, confused.

  Cammie nodded toward the hotel front desk, where someone had just caught her eye. Someone lithe, blond, and effort
lessly lovely. "Look at that. Well, well, well."

  "Anna Percy."

  "Yep." Cammie's venom toward Anna was palpable. Cammie wanted Ben; Anna had Ben. It was that simple. Cammie had simply never lost at love before.

  "Why would Anna be checking in?" Dee wondered.

  Cammie's cat eyes gleamed and a smile curled on her lips. "Maybe there's more to Little Miss East Coast Preppie than meets the eye."

  "Who do you think she's with?" Dee whispered.

  "Maybe it's her girlfriend."

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  Dee would never have guessed. "You think?"

  "You never know," Cammie said, chuckling.

  Dee wasn't sure if Cammie was serious or joking.

  Before Dee could probe, Cammie was already walking across the lobby directly toward Anna and the mystery girl. Dee had no choice but to follow her.

  "Anna!" Cammie said gaily. "How great to run into you!"

  "Hi, Anna!" Dee chimed in, throwing her diminutive arms around Anna's neck. "This is so cool! Gee, what are you doing here?"

  Anna's reaction to Cammie was impassive. So much so, Dee couldn't tell what Anna was feeling at all. But she was sure of one thing--it definitely wasn't joy.

  "Hello, Cammie. Dee."

  "Who's your friend?" Cammie asked slyly.

  "This is my sister, Susan," Anna said. "Susan, Cammie Sheppard and Delia Young. We go to school together."

  Dee knew it! No way was Anna a lesbian. Her energy was one hundred percent heterosexual.

  "Poor you, school sucks," Susan said cheerfully.

  "Miss Percy? Here are the keys to your bungalow." The handsome man behind the front desk handed Susan an envelope. "Will you be needing another set?"

  "Yes," Susan said. "My sister's staying with me."

  "No, I'm not," Anna objected, her voice low.

  "Yeah, you are," Susan said, and the desk clerk instantly handed her a second envelope, which she slapped into Anna's palm. "So, we were just about to slip

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  into bikinis, hang by the pool, and see who makes us drool. Care to join us?"

  "You know, that is such a great idea!" Cammie said.

  "Um, Cammie?" Dee began, wondering why in the world Cammie would want to spend part of the evening with a girl she despised. "Those guys are waiting for us--"

  "Forget them. I'd much rather hang out with Anna and Susan." Cammie flashed her most charming smile at Susan. "Just give us a minute. Dee and I will go downstairs to the Promenade--they've got some decent shops down there, and we'll get some cute bikinis. Then we'll meet you at the pool, okay?"

  "Great," Susan said. "Whichever one of us gets hit on the least buys dinner."

  Cammie laughed. "Anna, I really like your sister. This will be fun--a chance to get to know each other better. So, we'll see you in a little bit."

  "Catch." Susan tossed the two tiny pieces of a crocheted tangerine-colored bikini across the bungalow's bedroom. They fell at Anna's feet. "I can't wear this one until I lose some weight. I swear, you could snort lines off my ass. But it'll look great on you. For which I hate you, by the by."

  Anna sat on the edge of the four-poster mahogany bed, making no effort to retrieve the bikini. "Susan, listen. I really have no desire to hang out with those girls. I don't like them. Neither will you."

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  Susan was pawing through one of her valises. "Why not?"

  "They're awful, that's why."

  "Aha!" Susan extracted a more conservative black Anika Brazil halter two-piece and held it aloft triumphantly.

  "Seriously, Sooz," Anna went on. "They're superficial. And bitchy."

  "Sounds like half the people we grew up with," Susan said as she stepped out of her Seven jeans.

  "That's not true and you know it."

  "Oh, come on. I mean, I realize a girl as perfect as you are has very high standards, but lighten up a little. We're hanging out at the pool, not getting married."

  "It's just that I worry about you, Sooz," Anna said. "There's a bar there."

  "I keep telling you, I'm fine. Clean and sober, walking the straight and narrow, Your Honor."

  "But if rehab helps you ..."

  "Hey, I'm Jane Percy's daughter," Susan said lightly. "I can help myself." She gave Anna a quick hug. "Come on. Don't be mad. You're one of the only people in this whole messed-up world who I love, Anna."

  "Ditto," Anna said, hugging her sister back.

  "Okay, then. Enough with the love fest." Susan slipped into the halter. "Fortunately any weight I put on above the waist went to my tits. How does this look? Great, right?"

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  Susan did look pretty fantastic. Too fantastic to be sequestered away from the pool by an overprotective little sister.

  By the time Anna and Susan reached the pool, a crescent moon had risen high above the hotel, and a downy blanket of steam covered the heated pool itself. They found four unoccupied chaise longues--they had their pick, as the well-lit pool area was largely deserted except for the outdoor bar/restaurant against the far wall. Instantly a waiter was at their side. "Good evening. Can I bring you ladies anything?"

  "Rum and Coke," Susan ordered.

  Anna paled.

  "Kidding," Susan added quickly, rolling her eyes. "Hold the rum."

  "A bottle of Evian, thanks," Anna told the waiter

  "Now, this is more like it." Susan stretched out thankfully as the waiter went to retrieve their drinks. "No snow. No toilets to clean. No fat-ass therapist telling me how screwed up I am because of my family of origin but that it doesn't matter because I have an opportunity now to take charge of my life."

  "Did he really say that?"

  "He was a she, and hell, yes. It's such crapola. Oh my God, Anna, look over there." Susan nudged her chin toward the other side of the pool, where two good-looking guys chatted away on their cells. Plates of untouched sushi sat on a table between them.

  "So?" Anna asked.

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  "What planet are you on? That's Alex Souter and Noah Monahan."

  "Who are they?"

  "Didn't you see the Oscars? They won a best screenplay award together. And Alex, the taller one with the dark hair, just starred in a big Christmas action movie--I forget the name. But he was smoking. Noah, the blond, is turning to producing."

  It struck Anna as a significant accomplishment to have won an Academy Award for best screenplay. Not the level of a PEN/Faulkner Award for literature, but still. It would be interesting to be with a guy like that. Her best friend, Cyn, back in New York, would have already sauntered right over and introduced herself. Ten minutes later they'd probably have been making out in the Jacuzzi--all three of them.

  I could be that girl, Anna thought. The word audacious came to mind. Yes. She could be audacious. In control and audacious.

  The waiter was at the pool bar. Anna excused herself and went to him, explained what she wanted, then returned to her chaise longue.

  Susan eyed her, eyebrows raised. "What did you just do?"

  "I just sent--what are their names again?"

  "Those guys? Alex Souter and Noah Monahan."

  "Right." Anna stretched out on the chaise. "I just sent them drinks."

  "Get out!" Susan said, laughing. "You did not.

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  You've never done anything remotely like that in your entire life."

  "That," Anna said, "is exactly the point of my being out here."

  Still, Anna's stomach fluttered as she waited for the drinks to be delivered. She was keeping her eyes on the two famous guys, she hoped without being obvious about it, when Cammie and Dee entered the pool area and walked right over to them. The guys halted their conversations to take in the sight of Cammie in her white Vix bikini. Its low-cut mesh top emphasized the perfect 34D breasts she'd purchased; the minute bottom was held together by strings. Dee sported an Anna Sui blue-and-yellow gingham bikini that showed off the results of hundreds of spinning classes and yoga sessions. To Anna and Susan's surprise, the guys put dow
n their phones and started a conversation with Cammie and Dee.

  Susan nudged Anna. "Your friends know those guys?"

  "They're not my friends. And we had the secretary general of the UN to a dinner party in Mom's brown-stone. I'd say that's quite a bit more impressive."

  "I wouldn't," Susan said.

  At that moment the waiter delivered Anna's drinks to Noah and Alex. He set the two tall glasses garnished with mint leaves in front of them, then cocked his chin toward Anna to show they were from her.

  "What did you send them?" Susan asked.

  "Iced tea."

  "Long Island iced tea, I hope."

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  "The nonalcoholic kind," Anna admitted, blushing. Noah and Alex were looking over at her now. That part was fine. The problem was, so were Cammie and Dee. Cammie laughed and said something to Noah and Alex, which made them chuckle. The guys eyed Anna again and hoisted their drinks in a salute.

  Smile , she told herself. Smile flirtatiously . Because what the hell .

  Cammie and Dee headed for Anna and Susan, Alex and Noah in tow. Which was not exactly how Anna had envisioned this encounter turning out. But then, how could she have known that Cammie and Dee knew the two writers?

  "Oh my God, Alex and Noah are heading over here," Susan hissed. She sucked in her stomach and tossed her hair over one eye. Anna didn't do anything at all except wait and feel slightly ridiculous.

  "Well, well, you two look comfy," Cammie commented, stepping out of her strappy sandals. "We brought friends along."

  "So I see." Susan smiled up at the famous guys. "Hi. I'm Susan."

  "Hey. I'm Alex and this is Noah," Alex said, flashing the smile that apparently had sold millions of movie tickets. He sat on the edge of Cammie's chaise.

  "We know," Susan said. "I loved your movie."

  "Thanks." Noah's gaze went to Anna. "And thanks for the drinks."

  "You're welcome," Anna replied. And couldn't think of another word to say.

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  "Do you have a name?" Alex added playfully, squatting down next to Anna's chaise.

  "Yes. Right. Sorry." Anna sat up. "I'm Anna Percy." She extended her hand to shake his.

  He seemed amused by her formality. "Did you like our movie, too, Anna Percy?"

  "To tell you the truth, I didn't see it," Anna confessed.

 

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