Spoiled (2 page)

She punctuated this with a sparkling laugh, throwing back her head and clutching Brooke’s upper arm as if they were besties
who’d just shared the most spectacular joke. Brooke knew better than to let Shelby provoke her, especially in front of the
tourists who’d just heard her bragging about Brick. But she couldn’t resist pushing back a little.

“I see your dad’s coverage of the
American Idol
scandal bought you another nose job,” she said, with equally false cheer.

“And I see your boobs still haven’t come in,” Shelby said. “Luckily, nobody knows who you are—you could still get them done
and no one would notice.”

“We both know I’m going to get plenty of attention after
Hey!
covers my party.”

Shelby patted Brooke’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’re right, darling.”

Brooke narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but Shelby’s attention had shifted elsewhere.

“Sweetie!” she squealed.

Abandoning Brooke and Arugula, Shelby signaled the
Hey!
photographer, who obligingly started snapping her as she ran over to a table where one of the lesser Kardashians was autographing
a pile of three-hundred-dollar tank tops from her new line, Klothes. The girls shrieked, then hugged without actually touching.

“Something about that makes me uncomfortable,” Arugula warned in a low voice.

“I know, right?” Brooke rolled her eyes. “That family needs to buy another consonant.”

“No, I mean with Shelby. She didn’t even call you a drag queen. That almost never happens.”

“Oh, whatever,” Brooke said. “I’m sure she’s just off her game because her father is putting me front and center in
Hey!
, and there’s nothing she can do about it.”

In truth, though, Shelby’s victorious expression had made Brooke queasier than a carb binge. She’d seen it often enough to
know that it never led to anything good.

Worse, it cast a pall on her shopping day to know Shelby was lurking around, as annoying as the old tube of lip gloss currently
leaking at the bottom of Brooke’s handbag. She
darted back into the dressing room, scooped up a stack of dresses she figured she’d just buy now and try later, and swanned
back into the store.

Shelby had returned, and she was scrutinizing Brie with anthropological fervor. “What is
this
?”

“I’m Mar—” Brie began.

“Brie is my personal assistant, and I’ll thank you to treat her with respect,” Brooke said, drawing herself up to her full
five feet eleven inches to look as imposing as possible. “You know the underclassmen always look to me as a wise big sister.”

“What an appropriate choice of words,” Shelby said, snapping her fingers as if she’d just remembered something important and
pulling an issue of
Hey!
out of her purse. She tossed it at Brooke. “Page fifteen.”

Arugula subtly shook her head, but Brooke couldn’t resist.

BRICK BUILDING A BIGGER FAMILY?
screamed the headline. The story read:

Is Hollywood’s biggest himbo hunk hiding a deep family secret? A source close to Berlin confirms that next week, he’ll unveil
a love child. When asked if there was truth to the rumor, Berlin said cryptically, “Children, like protein shakes, are God’s
greatest present.” We assume that’s a yes.

Brooke didn’t realize she was shaking until Arugula nudged her back to consciousness. Gossip about Brick never failed to chafe,
especially because at least eighty percent of it usually turned out to be true—and she almost never heard it first.

“
Surely
he told you…?” Shelby asked, the very picture of concern. “I can’t imagine my father keeping something this huge from me.
Maybe Brick thought the shock would cause a relapse of your tanorexia. That summer you were the color of a traffic cone hurt
us
all
.”

Brooke ignored this and gritted her teeth. She was pretty sure none of Brick’s girlfriends had ended up pregnant—unless the
most recent one’s
Elle
spread was heavily airbrushed, but considering the photo shoot featured her riding a bull, it seemed unlikely. She plastered
a smile on her face and met Shelby’s sharp green eyes.

“Juicy,” she said, with all the nonchalance she could muster. “Too bad it’s not true.”

“That’s right. Stay strong, sweet pea,” Shelby said, drifting toward a display of fringed ankle boots. “But why don’t you
hang on to that anyway? Might be fun in your family album! No mom in there means
plenty
of room for a new sibling.”

Ari sucked in a breath. “I’ll get the car,” she whispered.

Swallowing bile, Brooke nodded stiffly and turned to Brie.

“Tell the manager to put this all on my tab,” she announced. “And tell him the clientele here has gone disastrously downhill.
I am
way
skeeved.”

Brooke brushed past Shelby—with a hint of an elbow jab—and exited Inferno with her head high. Once outside, though, she bolted
down Robertson and around the corner onto one of the residential streets to hide, so she could have her mini breakdown far
away from the photographers waiting for Nicole Kidman to come out of Chanel.

Her eyes burned, and not just because of that stupid tabloid story. Even after the letters stopped coming, Brooke never imagined
she would turn sixteen without so much as word (or a car) from her mother. And it pissed her off even more that Shelby could
push the Kelly Berlin button so effortlessly. Getting upset over her absentee mother seemed almost too obvious, like something
from a bad soap opera but without hot, shirtless men everywhere to distract from the pain.

After a few calming yoga breaths, Brooke decided to reject her anger. Kelly’s absence and Shelby’s noxiousness only made it
that much more important to make a huge impression on the Hollywood bigwigs at her party. Topping her mother’s feat of being
the first hand model ever to wear a Lee Press-On Nail would be tricky—but winning an Oscar at eighteen would be a decent start.
Shelby may have gotten the last word today, but Brooke wasn’t going to be derailed by some vague blurb in a magazine.

It will happen
, Brooke told herself.
Be calm. There is nothing in your way.

Brooke’s funk returned as soon as Arugula dropped her off at home. For all her bravado, something about the
Hey!
blurb nagged at her, and she needed to talk to Brick.

She trudged up the ten stone steps to her front door and let herself into the house, which was vast and silent as a library.
The stillness only added to her irritation. She felt like the building was shushing her when she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Petulantly, she hurled her house keys at the nearest surface; unfortunately, that surface turned out to have a face.

“Whoops! Sorry, Stan.”

Her father’s assistant rubbed his bald head. “What happened? Is this what amnesia feels like?”

“I wish
I
had amnesia.” Brooke moaned for maximum melodrama. “Any idea where he is?”

“The usual—in the library reading Tolstoy.”

“So which is it, gym or pool?”

“Got it in two, hon.”

Brooke blazed ahead to the living room, across the solarium’s parquet floors, through the French doors onto the patio, and
down the sloping, verdant grounds to the Olympic-size pool, where Brick’s bright red swim cap gave him away. She tore off
her shoes, plopped down on the mosaic tiles that fanned out from the diving board, and stuck her feet in the water.

Brick stroked toward the ledge. Brooke couldn’t resist kicking out at him.

“H-h-hey!” he sputtered, surfacing with a mouthful of
water. “Oh, hi, honey. Didn’t recognize your foot. How was your day?”

“It was… interesting,” she said, arranging her features into a mighty pout.

Brick didn’t take the bait; he was too busy hauling himself out of the pool to notice. Brooke winced. She hated his embarrassingly
snug racing Speedo, but he swore it was his trademark. It never worked to point out that there was no need for a trademark
when he was hanging out alone at the house.

“Hey, Sunshine, since we’re here together, there’s something I need to tell you, okay?” Brick said, peeling off his cap and
shaking out his thick russet hair. “And I think it’s going to be super great, but it’s also going to shock you a little.”

“Let me guess,” Brooke spat. “That stupid protein-shake quote was real?”

Brick hung his head. “Let
me
guess:
Hey!
wrote something, and you saw it?”

“Shelby basically shoved it up my nose.”

“Those bastards weren’t supposed to say anything yet,” Brick cursed, slapping the cement ringing the pool.

“It was hideous, Daddy,” Brooke wailed. “I can’t believe Shelby Kendall knew about this before I did! Can you imagine what
that felt like? I want to run away to Europe and get a face transplant!”

This had worked well on the most recent episode of Brooke’s favorite soap,
Lust for Life
, although for some reason Bobbie Jean had also woken up in Dr. Hedge Von
Henson’s Swedish sanitarium three inches shorter and a redhead.

Brick sighed. “Listen, Sunshine, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean for you to find out that way. But before you get angry,
hear me out. A sibling could be fantastic. Think what it’ll be like to have someone who looks up to you and needs you.”

A calming voice in Brooke’s head (that sounded eerily like Tim Gunn) chimed in that celebrity babies were dominating the tabloids—as
were the people holding them. She imagined a “Famous People Feel Things Too” feature in which she tickled the chin of a tot
in tiny designer sunglasses while Brick looked on with adoration. Embracing her father’s random spawn would make her look
so modern and open-minded.

“And just think how cool it could be!” Brick was continuing. “Someone to shop with, someone to help you with your math homework…”

Brooke snorted. “A baby helping me with math? I know I flunked my geometry final last year, but come on.”

“A baby? Who has a baby?”

The thought bubble containing Brooke’s daydream began to deflate. “Wait, what are
you
talking about?”

“Your sister. Molly. Well, okay, she’s your half sister, but I don’t want to dwell on that distinction. It might make her
feel unwelcome.”

“And this
Molly
”—Brooke pronounced the name as if it tasted like earwax—“isn’t a baby?”

“She turned sixteen a few days ago.”

Brooke’s mouth went dry. “How…
what
?”

“Well, Sunshine, you’ve always known your mom and I weren’t exclusive when we first started dating,” Brick began. “I didn’t
even know she was pregnant until I got back from the
Rad Man
shoot. But what I never told you is that on set I met Laurel, and”—he got a faraway look in his eyes—“she worked in wardrobe,
and we just connected, you know?”

“
What
wardrobe? You wore a bodysuit for three months,” Brooke muttered.

“She was an artist with spandex!” Brick huffed. “Anyway, by the time Laurel told me about the baby, I’d already married your
mother. Laurel didn’t want any drama, so she went back to Indiana.”

Brooke’s eyes narrowed. “She’s from one of those
middle states
? Dad, why would you
ever
let a tabloid hear about this? She could’ve just stayed hidden in her cornfield or whatever!”

“That’s just it, sweetie, she can’t. See, Laurel got sick, and she… she’s…” Brick’s voice broke, which Brooke might have found
touching if her world weren’t crashing down around her. “Long story short, Molly’s coming to live with us. In two days. She’ll
be here for the party. I was waiting to tell you until all the arrangements were final.”

For a second Brooke thought horror had stolen her voice. She imagined the grief in Brick’s eyes when he realized his indiscretion
forever silenced his child, and pictured him
laying her on a chaise longue, a single tear falling from his cheek as he whispered, “Sweet Brooke, I
will
hear your song again.”

Instead, Brick pleaded, “Come on, Sunshine, say something.”

“Something,” Brooke mumbled. Damn, so she wasn’t mute. It was just as well; she couldn’t sing anyway. She made a mental note
to learn.

“I should’ve told you from the start. It’s a lot to deal with.”

“A lot to deal with?” Brooke echoed. “Math is a lot to deal with. A crater-faced half sister from the sticks crashing the
most important night of my life is a total
nightmare
.”

“There’s one more thing,” Brick said, a hint of unease in his voice. “I thought we could use the party as Molly’s big debut.
You know, make her part of the story.”

“
My
story?” Brooke gasped.

She gazed at Brick’s blazing white grin and wanted to punch him. This thunder-stealing she-devil was shaping up to be the
worst catastrophe since high-waisted jeans.

“Now it can be grand and important and meaningful,” Brick said, losing himself in his thoughts. “It’s such a powerful angle—how
in losing her mother, Molly’s gained a family.” He paused. “Wait, that’s kind of good,” he said, reaching for his BlackBerry.