And now, for the first time, Hallie.
“But, you’re the one who introduced me to everyone!” Hallie protested. “You told me to talk to Rachel about audition reels, remember?” Hallie insisted. “And when we met Zoe, at that party over the summer, you’re the one who said I was trying to break in. They were happy to talk to me!”
“Well, sure, because they didn’t want to be rude.” Ana Lucia’s smile became more frozen — barely a smile at all. “I’m just saying, it’s been uncomfortable. For all of us. I know you’re an outsider, but, this isn’t how we do it here.” She shrugged, and turned on her heel to leave — as if Hallie were nothing more than an embarrassing inconvenience now, and not the girl who had been right beside her at every brunch and shopping trip for months; supplying them with backstage passes, and invites to all of Take Fountain’s private after-show parties.
Suddenly, Hallie’s anger bubbled up again.
“This is about Dakota, isn’t it?” she demanded furiously. “All along, you’ve been using me to get near Reed. But now that we’ve broken up, you’re done with me!”
Ana Lucia hardened. “Me? Using you?” She snorted. “Please. What do you have that I could possibly want?” She took a step closer to Hallie and glared, all pretense of friendship gone. “We let you tag along for long enough, but just because you lucked out in the right zip code, and have some rich relative taking pity on you, it doesn’t make you one of us!”
Brie finally looked up from her cell phone. “Your uncle isn’t even in features,” she added, like it was the ultimate put-down. “He does TV.”
She and Ana Lucia whirled on their spiked heels and stalked away. Meredith paused a moment, and gave Hallie a regretful look. “Sorry. She’s just . . .” Meredith sighed. “You know Reed slept with her, right before they all went to New York? And now he’s not returning her calls.”
“So she was just using me.” Hallie’s anger returned, only this time, she didn’t know whether to be mad at Ana Lucia, or herself — for not seeing the blatant exchange that had been holding up their entire friendship. She looked at Meredith, arms folded. “What about you? Are you done too?”
Meredith glanced over to the elevators, where Ana Lucia and Brie were waiting. Ana Lucia glared at them impatiently. “We go way back,” Meredith offered, the feeble note in her voice telling Hallie everything she needed to know. “They’re my best friends out here. They know everyone.”
And there it was again. Who you knew — or didn’t know — made all the difference in this town.
“You’ll miss your ride,” Hallie told her harshly, turning away. She didn’t wait to watch Meredith leave with the others; for once, Hallie needed to be the one to walk away first.
Hallie made straight for the bar, blood still singing from her showdown with Ana Lucia and Co. She waved for the bartender’s attention, keeping one eye on the far doors. For all she knew, Ana Lucia would send security up to bounce her out, now that she was there without a precious member’s permission. Hallie may be drunk, but she was nowhere near drunk enough for that. “Another margarita, please.”
He didn’t ask for ID. They never did here, just mixed the drinks and waited for their tips. Hallie scrabbled in her bag for the money.
“I’ve got this.” A voice came from her left-hand side: a tanned, blond guy in his twenties wearing designer denim and an ultra-white smile. Hallie hesitated. Getting hit on was the last thing she wanted, but as if he could read her thoughts, the guy took a step back, glanced at her shoes, and gasped. “Are those Prada? Oh, sweetheart, you look fierce!”
Hallie relaxed. “Thanks!” she replied. “And for the drink too. I’m Hallie, by the way.”
“Roger,” he replied, pronouncing it like a European: Ro-ZHAIR. “And I know. I saw your scene over by the elevators with that skinny girl,” he explained, rolling his eyes. “What a be-yatch!”
“Isn’t she?” Hallie cried. “She calls me the user, when all along, she only wants access to Take Fountain, and a guy who couldn’t care less about her!”
Roger tutted sympathetically. “People in this town are the worst,” he agreed, laying a fifty down on the bar for their drinks. “They only use you to get what they want, and then, BAM, they’re done with you. You can’t let them get to you, they’ll get what they deserve in the end.”
“Yes! You’re right.” Hallie nodded at her kindred spirit. “You’re so right.”
“Why don’t you come sit?” Roger nodded toward a free couch in the corner. “And tell Uncle Roger all about it.”
Roger turned out to be the perfect audience to Hallie’s woe: attentive, sympathetic, and full of disdain at the cruel and thoughtless way Dakota had treated her.
“. . . and then he got in the car!” she finished, stifling a yawn. It was three a.m. and the lounge was emptying out now, but she was still ensconced in the corner with her new BFF and his BFF, a bleached blonde in her twenties with a raspy Brooklyn accent.
“Bastard!” Roger declared. “I can see it now: you standing proudly like Vivien Leigh in Gone with the Wind.”
Hallie nodded tiredly. Yes! Scarlett O’Hara. That was her all the way: dignified to the end.
“So Talia was right there?” the girl — Kay, Hallie thought she was called — asked, wide-eyed with interest. “Did she say anything?”
“Not to me.” Hallie scowled. “She just ordered him to get in the car, like I wasn’t even there. But I could tell, she knew exactly what was going on. You could see it in her eyes, she loved watching me suffer.”
Kay and Roger shook their heads in dismayed unison.
“You know, you should get your side of the story out there,” Roger suggested, resting one arm on the back of the couch behind Hallie.
“He’s right.” Kay leaned in from her other side. “No one even knows what you went through.”
“To the world, you’re just some crazy fan who made a scene outside his show.”
“And he’s the charming rock star who swept Talia off her feet,” Kay finished, nodding. “People deserve to know the truth.”
Hallie looked back and forth between them, the rapid motion making her dizzy. She reached for her drink, gulping down the weak dregs of melted ice. She frowned at the empty glass. “I think I should get going . . . .”
Roger squeezed her shoulder. “No way, the night is still young! Another round!” He gestured to one of the roving waitresses before turning back. “So, what do you think?”
“About what?” Hallie tried to focus.
“Telling your story,” Roger prompted.
Hallie was still blank. “I don’t understand. Tell my story to who?”
There was a pause. Roger and Kay exchanged a look. “That’s the great thing. See, I actually know some editors. . . .” Kay pulled a business card from her leopard-print purse. Hallie took it, squinting at the blurry print.
“You’re a . . . journalist?” She froze.
“Writer,” Kay corrected quickly. “Celebrity biographies, mainly, but I do some freelance work. It would be totally tasteful,” she reassured Hallie. “Your story, some photos —”
“Professional hair and makeup, naturally,” Roger interrupted.
“They’d make you look fabulous. Not that it’s hard — look at you!” They laughed again, a high-pitched chorus, but this time, their voices sounded weird to Hallie: discordant.
Yup, definitely time to go.
Hallie tried to hand the card back. “No, thanks.” She managed a smile. “It’s not my thing.”
“But we’d pay.” Kay leaned in so close Hallie could see the places her lipstick had faded, leaving only the harsh red line around the edge of her mouth. “It could be a lot, depending on what you can give us.”
“Give you . . . ?” Hallie echoed, penned in. Already, she wished she’d left back when Ana Lucia had; that she’d never even come out tonight at all. How much had she been drinking? She wondered through a haze. And why was Kay looking at her with a hungry edge to her smile
: all teeth, like she was about to take a bite out of her?
“Details. About Dakota,” Kay pressed. “What kind of stuff is he into? Did you ever see him take drugs? Do you think he’d offer Talia drugs?”
“No, no, he’s not like that.” Hallie shook her head. Mistake. The room began to spin gently.
“Are you sure?” Roger asked.
“She’s only just out of rehab,” Kay added. “Did she look high when you saw her? Maybe with some white powder . . . ?” She wiped her nose meaningfully. “That’s the kind of detail that would really raise your price.”
Her price? The harsh word finally cut through Hallie’s fog. That’s what this was about? They thought she was as bad as Dakota: willing to sell out their relationship for the sake of some publicity, and an easy paycheck!
“If not drugs, then maybe sex?” Kay was still pressing, hand on Hallie’s arm. “Did he like anything . . . different? Kinky. Threesomes —”
“Stop!” Hallie leaped up. The world lurched alarmingly, and she had to grab on to a nearby chair for support. “I don’t care how much you’re paying. I’m not doing any story!” She paused. That wasn’t right. “It’s not a story,” she corrected, glaring at them. “It’s my life!”
Hallie hurried away — or rather, stumbled. What kind of people were they: exploiting her pain for profit, preying on her in her moment of weakness? But she hadn’t even reached the elevators before Kay and Roger caught up with her, pulling Hallie into a dim hallway away from the main floor.
“I don’t think you understand.” Their smiles had dropped: now Kay narrowed her eyes, calculating. “It’s too late to walk away now.”
“What do you mean?” Hallie backed up, but found herself against a damask-covered wall.
“You already told us everything. We don’t need your permission, we can run with what we’ve got.” Kay held up her cell phone — the same phone that had been sitting innocuously on the table all evening. She pressed a couple of buttons, and Hallie heard her own voice play back.
“You could see it in her eyes, she loved watching me suffer.”
Hallie gasped. “I didn’t . . . But . . . You set me up!” she cried.
“How?” Kay smirked. “You were the one pouring your heart out.”
“But . . . you . . .” Hallie was lost for words. A moment ago, they’d been dripping honey, so sweet and supportive, but now she could practically see the dollar signs glowing in their eyes.
“It’ll be OK,” Roger reassured her. “Just do the interview, on the record, like a good girl. Otherwise . . .” He paused. “Well, maybe the story will turn out to be about them, and how they’re being stalked by Dakota’s psycho ex-girlfriend.”
Hallie felt tears well up. “You wouldn’t!”
“Stalkers sell copies.” Kay shrugged. “Maybe we’d even put them on the cover. America loves a victim.”
Hallie looked back and forth between them, her heart sinking. She was trapped, and it was her own stupid fault. Why had she trusted them? All the margaritas in the world couldn’t excuse this mess. And what had she told them? Hallie couldn’t even remember what she’d said ten minutes ago, let alone before that last round of shots. . . .
“It’s up to you.” Kay shrugged. “Cooperate, or see what it feels like to be the biggest joke in town. Your choice.”
But it wasn’t her choice, it never was! This whole year had been one long list of everyone else making important decisions, while she was left desperately trying to handle the fallout. Dakota chose to leave, her mom chose to move them to L.A., her father chose to drop dead on her . . . Hallie didn’t get a say in any of it!
Well, no more!
Hallie drew herself up to her full height — four-inch heels and all — and stared down her nose at Kay. All her bitterness, and loneliness, and anger over the past year channeled into a beam of pure fury shot straight at them.
“No.”
“Fine, then.” Kay shrugged. “Psycho stalker it is.”
Hallie looked around for her out, gaze landing on a table of empty glasses. There. “Was that a threat?” she asked, her voice like ice. “Because you’ve already been feeding me drinks all night — delinquency of a minor, isn’t it? Coercion, maybe. And now blackmail? My uncle’s lawyers will have fun with that one.”
Kay and Roger didn’t look so confident anymore.
“We still have your story.” Kay brandished the phone. “You can’t get out of that one.”
“You think?” With one swift movement, Hallie snatched Kay’s phone from her grip and dropped it on the floor; slamming her fabulous heel into the screen and grinding down until the whole gadget shattered. “Whoops!”
Kay gasped. “You didn’t!”
“I did.” Hallie glared at them. “And if anything I said to you ever comes up in print, my family will sue you so fast, you . . . you . . .” She tried to think of something suitably threatening, but her mind was still fuzzy. “You’ll be sorry, that’s all I can say.”
She pushed past, and this time, they didn’t follow. Hallie could hear them arguing furiously as she waited for the elevator.
“How could you let her take the recording?”
“What about you? You said she was drunk. Easy money, you said!”
Hallie grinned as the doors closed behind her. There! She wasn’t just waiting around anymore, while other people made the big decisions. She was back in control, she was independent, she was —
Broke.
Hallie rifled through her purse as she stepped out into the lobby, but all she had was three dollars and a fetching shade of lip gloss. She groaned. It was way too late to call Grace, and she’d told Amber and her mom that she was sleeping over at Ana Lucia’s. Even if she got a cab to take her back, would she even be able to dig up the cash once she got home?
Hallie pulled out her cell phone, and dialed.
Brandon arrived in a half hour, his Jeep looking out of place in the line of Porsches and BMWs that slowly rolled through the valet stand. Hallie hopped up in the passenger side. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she told him fervently. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know who else to call.”
Brandon shrugged. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed: gray sweatpants, and a dark zip-up hoodie open over a Disney T. “It’s OK, I couldn’t sleep.”
He passed her a bottle of water, then popped the cap on a pack of Advil, handing Hallie two pills. “It’s better to take them now, before the hangover kicks in tomorrow,” he advised with a wry smile, shifting the car back into drive and easing out of the exit.
“How could you tell?” Hallie gulped them back. The wooziness had worn off waiting for him to come, now she just felt empty; a metallic edge to her nerves.
“Four in the morning, scraping you off the floor at some club?” Brandon looked amused. “Sure, you’ve been hanging out drinking hot cocoa and knitting.”
Hallie managed a smile. She curled up in the seat and took a long breath as they turned back onto Sunset Boulevard, bright with billboards and headlights. It felt like she’d been in that club for a lifetime, bouncing between insincere smiles and vicious bitchy showdowns, and now, now, her head was finally clear. She rested her cheek against the cool glass, watching the city slip by.
“I didn’t say welcome back.” Brandon glanced over as they paused at a red light. “Did you have a good time in New York?”
“Not at all.” Hallie sighed. “Dakota . . .” She paused, embarrassed. “We kind of —”
“It’s OK.” Brandon cut her off. “Amber came over to gossip with my mom. I kind of overheard. . . .”
“Oh.” Hallie flushed. “Yeah, it didn’t really go the way I planned.”
“Sorry,” Brandon offered, with another awkward smile. “I know you wanted to make it work.”
“Understatement,” Hallie agreed. “But, maybe it was for the best, to have it thrown in my face like that. I mean, at least I know it’s over now. For real, this time.” She gazed out of the window — they were
heading down into Beverly Hills now, but Hallie felt something pull her in the other direction, back up into the hills.
“Would you mind if we made a detour?” she asked suddenly. “I know it’s late —”
“You mean, early.”
“Sorry,” Hallie said again. She knew she should just head home, and not test Brandon’s chivalry any further, but there was a restlessness still in her veins; a sharp itch she needed to set to rest. “It won’t take long, I promise. It’s just, that way.” She pointed behind them.
Brandon looked at her for a moment, then sighed. “You’re lucky I’m an insomniac,” he told her, pulling a U-turn in the middle of the street.
They parked off the side of the road, up on Mulholland where Dakota had taken Hallie that first night, a lifetime ago. She left Brandon by the car and made her way out to the edge of the cliff, shucking off her shoes so she was barefoot on the gravel and rocks.
Hallie gazed down at the snaking lights of the freeway and felt an unexpected calm. It was all still here. The sprawling, glittering grid; the dark horizon. Dakota may be gone, but all of this — the world — was still right there like it had always been.
Just because she’d built all her dreams with him beside her, it didn’t mean she couldn’t go on and make them come true on her own.
“Hey.” Brandon’s hand was tight on her arm. “Watch the edge.”
“Why?” Hallie laughed. “You think I’m going to throw myself off or something?”
There was a pause.
“I don’t know,” Brandon replied, his expression even. “Would you?”
“No!” Hallie spluttered. “I would never . . .” Her protest died as she took in the calm set of his face. “I wouldn’t!” She tried again to reassure him. “Really!”
Brandon nodded slowly, but the grip on her arm didn’t loosen until Hallie drew back from the cliff edge.
She stood there, shaken, suddenly remembering every time she’d claimed she’d die without Dakota; every desperate sob that life wasn’t worth living without him. Hallie was horrified. When had she become the girl who talked like that?
Jane Austen Goes to Hollywood Page 20