instead, saying, “The Venetian? That place is lame. The Palms is way better.”
Jane gritted her teeth and forced herself to turn to Madison. Of course Madison would say this, because the Venetian had been Jane’s suggestion, and the Palms had been Madison’s—and because they were on camera. Trevor and Dana must be loving this, Jane thought, knowing that one or both of them were out in the hallway, listening in on their headsets. “Thanks for your input, Madison, but Aja definitely wants the Venetian,” she said firmly. “Soooo. What do you guys think?”
“I think we need to have a sit-down with Aja and persuade her to go with the Palms,” Madison persisted. “I’m friends with the events person there and I’m sure he’ll give us a fantastic deal.”
Hannah regarded Jane, her brown eyes full of worry. Jane shared Hannah’s unspoken sentiments—how were they going to keep this meeting from degrading into The Madison Show? Because lately, Madison seemed to have perfected the art of hogging the cameras, shamelessly baiting Jane with snide, bitchy comments, and in general focusing any and all attention on Madison Parker. She had been at Fiona Chen Events for only a week, and already she was dominating the shoots there with her provocative remarks, on-camera meltdowns, and, of course, her form-fitting, cleavage-baring outfits. Worse, Madison’s reign of terror was not limited to L.A. Candy. Jane had no idea how many more times she could stomach seeing Madison on The View and other shows, rehashing her teary-eyed, Oscar-worthy rendition of “I thought she was my friend and now she’s blaming me for everyone finding out that she slept with her boyfriend’s best friend. She’s the one who did something terrible, not me!” Jane knew that her publicist, Sam, was working hard on a media counterstrategy. Unfortunately, the press—and the public—couldn’t seem to get enough of Madison’s poison.
Madison opened her mouth to say something else—then hesitated when her cell vibrated on the conference table. “Sorry, I’ve gotta take this,” she mumbled, scooting out of her chair. As she rushed out of the conference room, Jane noticed her reaching down her dress, presumably to turn her microphone off. What was that about?
Then Jane’s own cell vibrated. It was a text from Dana:
CAN U AND HANNAH PLZ DISCUSS MADISON’S IDEAS?
Great. This was Dana’s code for Can you and Hannah please say mean, nasty things about Madison while she’s out of the room? Not that Jane didn’t want to. But there was no way she was going to play into Dana’s (and Trevor’s and Madison’s) hands on this. She really was going to have to talk to Trevor about Madison—soon.
“I was thinking that maybe we should do a Caribbean theme,” Jane said brightly to Hannah. “You know, because Aja grew up in Martinique?”
Hannah nodded enthusiastically. “I love it! Maybe we could do something with—”
There was a knock, and the door opened. A young guy walked in. Jane’s eyes widened. A young, really cute guy. “Um, excuse me. Sorry to interrupt. Fiona asked me to bring these over,” he said, setting some files on the table.
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