something now, right?”
“Uh, right. I’m supposed to take you and the other girls over to the terrace for the opening segment, and—”
“Great! I’m ready!”
“So who’s Braden?” Caleb said, once again standing right behind her. “Is that that guy I read about in the magazines? Didn’t you and he—”
“I’ve gotta run, Caleb. I’ll see you later, okay?” Jane said. Then, before he could say another word, she turned to make her escape, trying not to trip on her black stiletto heels as she followed Alli down the path.
But what was she escaping, exactly? Two guys whom she used to like? Who used to like her? Who maybe still liked her, by the way they were acting? Or did guys always act like this, all possessive and territorial and she’s-mine-I-saw-her-first?
It was a very good thing she was not dating these days.
“Yeah, so Jane and I used to be best friends. It’s really sad,” Madison Parker explained to the umpteenth reporter.
Madison dabbed at her eyes for good effect, being careful not to mar her five-hundred-dollar makeup job. She’d tried out a new stylist for the season premiere party tonight—some of the biggest names in Hollywood used him—and he hadn’t disappointed. On the other side of the pool, which was filled with fragrant white gardenias and floating candles, a group of girls held up a sign that said, WE LOVE YOU MADYSON!!!!!!! in hot pink. Learn to spell, morons, she thought, annoyed.
The reporter from Gossip magazine—Tiffani?— nodded and scribbled in her tiny notebook. “So why do you think Jane moved out? And are we going to see that on tonight’s episode?”
“Shhh, that’s not till next week,” Madison stage–whispered, pretending to be letting Tiffani in on the biggest secret ever, even though she had told the same thing to five other reporters earlier. “I’ll tell you why Jane moved out. Everyone knows that she hooked up with her boyfriend Jesse’s best friend, Braden, back in December, and that Jesse found out, right? Well, Jane got this insane idea that I told Jesse about it.”
Tiffani looked puzzled. “But didn’t Jesse find out from our magazine when the pictures—”
“All I know is, Jane blames me,” Madison cut in. “It’s crazy. I would never do anything like that to her. I loved her like a sister. I still do.”
Tiffani nodded and scribbled some more.
This is soooo easy, Madison thought.
Things hadn’t looked very good for Madison last month, when Jane got hold of some emails proving that Madison had leaked those photos to Gossip. Any other girl might have given up, under the circumstances. But not Madison. She not only refused to confess or apologize to Jane … she decided to go on the offensive, talking to every reporter who would listen about her way-more-interesting version of events.
Madison studied her new set of dark purple acrylic nails. The nails on her right hand spelled LOVE! with tiny rhinestones; the nails on her left spelled FAME! “And that’s not all Jane did,” she said to Tiffani. “Jesse forgave her for hooking up with Braden, and they got back together right after New Year’s, right? But Jane was still obsessed with Braden. She was hanging out with him and having secret meet-ups, and that’s why Jesse dumped her again. And now she’s not speaking to me, like it’s my fault she cheated on her boyfriend.”
Tiffani whistled. “Wow, this is great stuff.”
Madison smiled smugly. “I know.” She didn’t tell Tiffani that she’d left out a few important details, like the fact that Jane and Braden only had one “secret meet-up”—a very public lunch at Barney Greengrass—or that Jane told Jesse about it herself, the same night.
Tiffani glanced up from her notepad. “Anything else?”
“I think that’s all. You’ll be the first to know if something else comes up,” Madison lied. “Soooo. When’s this story going to run?”
“Veronica told me to tell you she’s clearing space for this week’s edition. And if there’s a follow-up story, one of us may be calling you for quotes.”
“Awesome.”
Veronica Bliss, the editor in chief of Gossip, was really coming through for Madison lately. (Madison had spotted Veronica at the party earlier, having an intense-looking convo with Trevor. She had also spotted Veronica’s former assistant Diego—the rat who had dug up the incriminating emails against Madison—chatting up a publicist, presumably to get dish for his annoying new blog, D-Lish.) Veronica and Madison had had a long-standing arrangement: dirt on Jane in exchange for flattering pieces about Madison in the magazine. Madison had made that deal with Veronica last fall because she wasn’t enjoying anywhere near the fame she deserved. Back then, all anyone could talk about was Jane, Jane, Jane. Puke! Madison had been forced to help things along a bit by making sure the world knew what a pathetic mess their perfect, all-American princess really was.
And it was working. Trevor had already talked to Madison about giving her more airtime this season, which must mean that he planned to give Jane less. Madison was all over the media, too. Not only Gossip but the other major tabloids were clamoring to interview her—about the show and her rift with Jane, sure, but also about her opinions on fashion, her love life (she was careful not to mention her current, very married boyfriend, Derek), and more. It was a huge change from a few months ago, when she could barely get editors and reporters to return her calls.
As Tiffani wrote down some final notes, Madison fluffed her long, platinum blond hair and gazed out at her adoring fans. She assumed they were her fans, anyway; after all, Jane was old news, Scarlett was a complete freak, and Gaby was … well, she was about as interesting as last year’s diet fad.
A tall girl wearing a sorry-looking boyfriend shirt over leggings came running up to her. “Oh, there you are!” she said, panting. “I’ve been looking all over for you. You need to get over to the terrace, like, ASAP.”
“Who are you?” Madison snapped. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“I’m Alli. From the show. We’re about to go live, and they need you and the other girls to do the opening segment.”
“Oh!”
Madison said a hasty good-bye to Tiffani and followed Alli in the direction of the terrace. She wished she could check herself in a mirror, although she knew they’d have stylists waiting to touch her up. Besides, what was she worried about? She looked amazing in her shimmering purple tank dress that hugged her perfect size-0 body. She felt amazing, too. Tonight was the start of a brand-new season: her season. She was on a roll, and nothing was going to stop her.
When her cell buzzed as she hurried to the terrace, she pulled it out quickly and checked the screen. It was a text from a private number.
Madison frowned. It couldn’t be from that person … could it? Biting back her anxiety, she clicked on the message.
WHY R U IGNORING MY TEXTS? I TOLD U I WOULD GIVE U 30
