Sugar and Spice_ An L.A. Candy Novel - Lauren Conrad [5]
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 DAYS TO COME UP WITH THE MONEY. WELL YOUR 30 DAYS ARE UP SO NOW IM HERE TO COLLECT IN PERSON. BTW PURPLE ISNT YOUR COLOR.
Madison stopped in her tracks and gazed wildly around the crowd. Was the person here, tonight, watching her? How