okay, though. We just started a new book called Sentimental Education. Have you read it?”
“Yeah. Flaubert is one of my favorite writers. Have you read Madame Bovary?”
As Liam described studying Madame Bovary at UCLA—he’d graduated from there last spring—Scarlett’s mind wandered to a subject she should really be bringing up with him: her college transfer applications.
She had originally chosen to attend USC because she and Jane had dreamed of moving to L.A. together. (They’d taken the year off after high school graduation to travel and figure out what to do with their lives.) And now that she was here … well, her new life was great in so many ways, especially now that she was with Liam, and her friendship with Jane was stronger than ever. And she had committed to giving L.A. Candy a second chance, at least for the next few months until Season 2 wrapped.
Even so, she continued to be haunted by the feeling that she might be missing out on something. Most of her classes at USC were less than challenging, and she wished she didn’t feel like she was smarter than 99 percent of the student population. Had she “settled” for a college that wasn’t the right fit just to be with her best friend? And was she going to continue “settling” now that she had a boyfriend?
And so several weeks ago, she had sent applications to a dozen different colleges: Stanford, Berkeley, Columbia, NYU, Harvard, Princeton, Yale, Dartmouth, and others. Only the first two were in California, and they were many hours from L.A. by car. The rest were on the East Coast. She would know in the next few months whether she got in or not. And then she could make her decision about her sophomore year. It was good to keep her options open—right?
In the meantime, Scarlett hadn’t mentioned the applications to Liam, since they’d just started dating in January and things were going so well, or even to Jane, who had been through so much lately and needed her best friend around. She hated keeping a secret from them, but it couldn’t be helped. She would tell them sooner or later.
“Okay, you’re not listening to a word I’m saying.” Liam put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently.
Scarlett blinked. “Huh? I’m listening! You were saying something about Flaubert.”
“Not. I’ve moved on to something way more interesting. Your birthday.”
“My birthday?”
“Yeah, your birthday. April twenty-fourth. I know it’s still a month away, but keep that night free, okay? And the next day, too. Because I have major plans for you.”
Scarlett raised her eyebrows. “Like what kind of plans?”
“It’s a surprise. Trust me, you’ll like them.” Liam smiled lazily and trailed his fingers across her cheek.
Scarlett smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. He kissed her back, making her feel dizzy and tingly and deliriously happy at the same time. Liam was so sexy … and thoughtful … and smart … and sexy … and, basically, perfect in every way. It was so awesome, having a boyfriend. Why had she held out for so long?
The truth was, she’d never had a guy like Liam in her life before.
So why was she even thinking about moving three thousand miles away from him?
Jane speed-walked into the elevator and pressed 5, trying to juggle a latte, a box of Sprinkles cupcakes (it was Naomi the receptionist’s birthday), and her oversize, overflowing bag. “I’m soooo late. Fiona’s going to kill me,” she told Scarlett over the phone, which was precariously balanced between her right ear and shoulder.
“Just tell her you were having breakfast with Robert Pattinson. She’ll understand,” Scarlett joked.
“Funny. See you tonight? Or do you have a hot date with your hot boyfriend?”
“Nope. Tonight it’s just you, me, Tucker, and an everything pizza with extra cheese.”
“Sounds perfect. Ohhhh … my battery’s beeping at me, and I haven’t even checked my messages. Gotta go—bye!”
“Janie, charge your phone!”
“I know, I know. See you tonight!”
Jane dropped the phone into her bag just as the elevator doors slid open … to total chaos. The lobby of Fiona Chen Events had been overrun by PopTV equipment and crew—more than for a usual shoot.
“Jane, there you are!” Matt, the director, yanked off his headset and rushed up to her. “Let’s get you miked right away. We’ve got a busy, busy morning.”
“I thought we weren’t shooting until this afternoon. And why are there so many—”
“Change of plans. Didn’t Dana call you?”
Oops. Maybe Dana had left one of the many messages on Jane’s now-dead phone. “Um. What’s on the schedule?”
“First, we’re shooting a scene with you and Hannah, in your office. The second scene is you and, uh, Fiona, in Fiona’s office.” Matt looked away.
Jane frowned. Why did Matt suddenly seem so uncomfortable? “Is Fiona in a bad mood or something?” she asked him.
“Yeah, well, isn’t she always in a bad mood? I’ve got to go see about the lighting. I’ll be back for you in a sec.” Matt motioned for one of the sound guys to come over and mike her.
Great, Jane thought with a sigh. Fiona’s going to chew me out for being late … again … on camera. Can’t wait!
“Good morning, Jane.” Naomi peeked out from behind a massive bouquet of tulips on her desk. “I like your shoes!”
“Thanks. Oh, these are for you!” Jane gave her the box of cupcakes. “Happy birthday!”
“It’s so sweet of you to remember. Thank you!”
The sound guy, Jack, greeted Jane and handed her a mike pack. Jane set her stuff down on Naomi’s desk and chatted with her about birthday plans, while slipping the pack under her gray silk blouse, wrapping the wire around her torso, and handing the pack back to Jack. She barely noticed as he flipped on the switch and clipped the pack to the back strap of her bra. After six months of being on TV, it had become routine.
Matt reappeared in the lobby and waved to Jane. “Okay, we’re ready for you now.”
Jane said bye to Naomi (who wished her “good luck”— why “good luck”?) and joined Matt. As they headed down the hallway, they passed one of Fiona’s beautifully decorated conference rooms—and Jane spotted Trevor sitting at the end of the long glass table, talking on the phone and typing on his laptop. Several anxious-looking assistants hovered around him.
“What’s Trevor doing here?” Jane whispered to Matt.
“You know. Trevor likes to be hands-on. Fiona was nice enough to set up a temporary production space for him.”
