Authors: Miranda Baker
“I said spin it, not fabricate reality. That was way over the line—”
He eased down beside her on the floor. “No, it wasn’t. All’s fair in love and Hollywood. You know that. The pictures would have been fine before your little girlfriend showed up. In fact, they probably would have been your idea. So don’t act like I’m nuts for trying to do you a favor.”
“Favor? Anything that makes me want to commit homicide is not a favor.”
“Oh, shut up. My cell has been buzzing constantly since you two lovebirds raced out of the awards ceremony. At least now nobody wants to know when you started doing girls.”
“Herb, I don’t care anymore—got it? No more fake publicity. If you do anything like that again, I’ll sue you. You will spend every penny you ever made on legal fees. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah, I get you. We have a problem, though.”
“No, Herbie, you have a problem. I haven’t done anything wrong or illegal, at least not in this state, and my fucking heart is broken. You deal with it.”
“It was Cindy in the pictures.”
“Of course it was. So what?”
“She’s going around town trying to sell the details of your hookup at the wrap party. Apparently your blond boyfriend and his girlfriend sold their story to her, and Jenna Parker just called to tell me she booked the exclusive. Tonight, live, with a studio audience.”
Kat groaned. Her face was splashed all over the supermarket tabloids, and now she was going to get dragged through the mud on the highest-rated daytime talk show on television. Jenna didn’t usually do mud, so people would pay attention. Bonita would probably see it in the airport or on the plane.
Proprietors
would almost certainly tank. No one would offer her a serious role, and she’d be showing her cleavage onscreen until she was eighty.
“Could be worse. Jenna’s a class act. At least she called to warn us.”
“That’s so half-f of you, Herbie.” Kat went back to staring at the ceiling.
Bonita was gone, and her life stretched out in front of her, empty and meaningless, a charade. Did she give a shit about her career anymore? She’d been heading down a risky road for a while now. Getting caught on camera phone with Blond and Blondie had been a rookie mistake. Taking Bonita to the Pics and Pans had been reckless, too. If Bonita had said yes this morning, she would have called Jenna Parker, booked her own spot on the show, and jettisoned her career as the Come-Hither Queen without a single regret.
It wasn’t too late.
She felt her lips twitch, and when she turned to Herb, she flashed him a full-on grin. “Call Jenna.”
His eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do?”
“I think I can salvage something out of this.”
A gloating smile showed his perfectly capped teeth. “I thought you didn’t care about your career anymore.”
“Bite me. If I’m going down, I’m going down my way. Are you coming with me?” She wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to walk away.
His sigh was long and loud. “Quit being such a drama queen. Haven’t I stuck with you through every other crazy stunt you’ve pulled? Jesus, I thought we were friends.” He stood and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“Don’t bother with damage control. It’s going to get a lot worse,” she warned.
“That’s why I’m calling Clarke.”
She stared up at him. As far as she knew, he’d never even
spoken
to Clarke.
He raised his eyebrows. “What? You’re lying on the floor, babe. Sober. I’m worried about you. Clarke would take a bullet for you, and she’d kill me if I didn’t call her so she can at least make some sandwiches and hold your damn hand.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “That’s so sweet.”
“Don’t get used to it. I prefer being an asshole.”
She watched him text and listened while he made half a dozen calls to her chauffeur, stylist, makeup artist, hairdresser and publicists. By the time he was done, tears had made wet tracks down her temples and into her hair. He hadn’t just called her staff in to work, he’d rallied a troop of supporters, and they were coming to help
her
. She didn’t feel worthy of that kind of loyalty.
Not good enough…never good enough…
She closed her eyes, focusing inward and hitting the mental
delete
button. She might not have been the kind of person who deserved staunch loyalty in the past, but moving forward, she was going to earn it. She opened her eyes and took a deep breath, wiping her face on her shirt. Bonita was gone, but that didn’t change Kat’s mind about her future. She still had something to prove, and as soon as she managed to stop crying and get off the floor, she knew exactly how to do it.
Goddamn it
. Why wasn’t Kat answering her phone? Bonita glared out the taxi window at traffic, bumper to bumper, barely moving for what felt like the last hour. She looked at her phone. It
had
been an hour. Apprehension wrapped around her spine. There was no telling what Kat was doing right now, and Bonita didn’t want her to do it alone.
Voicemail again. Bonita took a breath to leave another message, but Kat’s voice continued speaking. Bonita paused, confused, then peered over the front seat, tracing the source of the sound. The driver was watching something on his phone.
“Is that Kat St. James?” she asked, heart sinking.
“Sure is.”
“What is it?”
“A clip from one of her movies on
The Jenna Parker Show
. They’ve been running teasers all day about a big reveal. I can’t resist. Usually I don’t watch this stuff, but I don’t want to miss it if she makes a guest appearance—”
The cars on the exit ramp weren’t even moving. It was almost four o’clock. She’d wasted hours in Venice Beach, and now Kat was going to follow through with her plan without knowing Bonita had changed her mind. Kat would never know Bonita had been willing to do it with her.
Not this time.
Kat wasn’t leaving her behind again.
“Can you take me to the studio?”
“Huh?” The surprise on his face was comical. “Channel 7?”
“As fast as you can.”
“Lady, if I could, I would.” Traffic was breaking up around them. They were inching past the police cars still clogging the scene of the fender bender at the end of the exit ramp. “But you don’t get anywhere fast in Los Angeles at four o’clock.”
She glanced at his driver’s ID taped to the windshield. “Manuel? You like Kat St. James? You want to be in the room when she makes her big reveal? I can get you there. I can even introduce you.”
He snorted. “And I’m the pope, lady. We ain’t getting through this without a police escort.”
Struck by an idea, Bonita opened the door of the taxi.
“Hey,” the driver yelled as Bonita ricocheted out the door.
“Follow me,” she yelled over her shoulder as she raced toward the nearest police car.
“Thanks, everyone. Fabulous job.” Kat’s team had worked wonders on her, brushing, curling, painting, poking and prodding until her reflection in the mirror showed no hint of tears, sleep loss or agony. “Let’s do this.”
She patted her pocket for her phone, then remembered she’d surrendered it to her assistant an hour ago with strict instructions not to give it back until the show was over. She’d continuously checked her messages after Bonita had left, but now that her plan was in action, the last thing she wanted to hear was Bonita telling her to stop.
She rode to the studio in the SUV, flanked by Herb and Clarke. The drive took less time than planned, so they circled the block, waiting to make an entrance. Herb had promised Jenna Parker an exclusive with Kat as long as Jenna kept it a secret and continued to promote Cindy’s planned appearance. They didn’t want Cindy to go public with her story somewhere else until Kat broke her news. After that, it wouldn’t matter. The media tsunami created by Kat’s revelation would wipe out all minor indiscretions.
Herb’s phone shrilled, and she jumped. For the first time in forever, she was nervous before an appearance. This time she wasn’t acting—she was telling the truth.
Herb took the call while Kat tuned out the conversation, almost managing to channel inner peace until he grabbed her hand hard enough to make her wince.
“Great news—Cindy is bluffing. Bob and the girl didn’t tell her anything. Cindy’s got nothing on you. Nobody knows. You don’t have to do this, Kat.” He gripped harder. “You know this will change everything.”
“I hope so.” Kat squeezed back, just as hard.
He sighed, looking resigned. “Just checking. I’ll text the production assistant and tell her we’re here.”
The SUV pulled up in front of Channel 7, and Clarke climbed out first, giving Kat an encouraging nod. The production assistant was already waiting, and she led them right into the building.
Kat kept an eye out for Cindy as they passed security and craft services. The howling ache in her skull and the hole in her heart made her doubt her ability to bust open a can of whoop-ass on anybody, but when she saw Cindy chatting happily with Jenna in the green room, pain was replaced by righteous indignation.
She watched Cindy through narrowed eyes as she tossed her dyed hair over her too-wide shoulders and shook her copycat ass as she strutted toward a couch. Jenna waved at Kat and stayed where she was. Kat acknowledged her greeting with a nod and took a deep breath, straightening her spine.
Cindy had made a living looking like her, and now she wanted to throw Kat under the bus. She needed to be put in her place, and Kat was the only one who could do it. It didn’t really matter if Kat had a pounding headache and a hole in her heart. It never did. In this business, the show must go on.
Kat tossed her head back and shook her own ass as she made her way across the room. Clarke and Herb kept pace a few steps behind her. She drew strength from their stalwart support as she looked down into Cindy’s shocked face and gave her the smile that had made her famous. “We need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” Cindy said.
“Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?”
Cindy turned her face away.
Kat fought the urge to grab her by the hair. “You might as well get it off your chest. You won’t get another opportunity. If I go down, you lose, too. Why would you want to do that to yourself? It doesn’t make sense.”
Cindy faced Kat and rolled her eyes. “Oh, c’mon, everybody knows you’re sick of acting. It’s only a matter of time, and I’m shit out of luck when you quit. I might as well take a turn in the spotlight while I can.”
“You shouldn’t underestimate yourself, Cindy. Why wouldn’t I have brought you along on a new project? We were a good team.”
“We were never a team. It was all about you, Kat, all the time. I’m sick of living in your shadow.”
“We’re live in ten, Kat.” Jenna eased toward the door that led to the studio. “Sorry, Cindy. Another time.”
Kat watched understanding darken Cindy’s almond-shaped eyes, so much like her own.
“You aren’t going to take this from me, too,” Cindy whispered fiercely.
“I am, actually. You’ve been bumped by a way better story, if you even had a story in the first place.”
Cindy flushed.
Kat smiled, but she didn’t feel glee. She felt sorry for Cindy, who was clearly out of her league, and she wondered what she would have done in her place a dozen years ago, without Herb, without Clarke, without trips home to Norton to see Bonita when she couldn’t handle the dog-eat-dog world of Hollywood for another minute. Would she have lied and connived? Bit the hand that fed her and kept her in two-hundred-dollar jeans? The answer made her stop smiling.
“Stick around,” Kat offered. She wasn’t going to forgive Cindy, but she couldn’t bring herself to destroy her either. “Maybe you’ll learn a little something about how to survive in Hollywood.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Cindy snarled, and walked out of the green room in the opposite direction of the studio.
Kat didn’t have time to worry about her anymore.
Jenna Parker was waiting.
Los Angeles was waiting.
And Kat wasn’t waiting another minute.
Chapter Seven
Eileen Clarke smiled fondly at Kat, pleased with her transformation. When they had first met, Kat wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to annihilate any and all competition. It was lovely to see her be kind to Cindy, especially when Eileen knew Kat’s heart was aching. Not for the first time today, she hoped Bonita would come to her senses. “Break a leg, dear. I need to have a word with Cindy. I don’t think she’s beyond hope of rehabilitation either.”
Kat’s jaw dropped.
Eileen patted her arm. “It won’t be long before that girl can cause as much trouble as you ever did. You know what they say—keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I think I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“You’re leaving me?”
“Of course not. This will just take a second.” She beckoned to Herb, another project who was coming along nicely. “Come with me, Herbert.”
He jerked, wide-eyed. “What? Yeah—sure. Why not? I’ll be in the audience in five, kid. Front row.” He followed Eileen with alacrity, and she hid a smile. She and Herb were an excellent team, and she hoped he was becoming aware of that fact. She
had
been his first call today, after all. First they would see to Cindy and Kat, and then maybe…dinner?