Sugar and Spice_ An L.A. Candy Novel - Lauren Conrad [50]
Caleb shrugged. “I guess. Whatever.”
Jane hooked her arm through his. Was it her imagination, or did he seem a little annoyed? “I’m gonna talk to the maître d’ about letting me go out the back. You wanna come with me?”
“No, you go on ahead. I’m gonna go out front so I can have the valet get my car.”
As they kissed good-bye, Jane had the sudden, weird feeling that Caleb actually liked being photographed by paparazzi. What was up with that?
Chapter 18
Kind of the Truth
“Sophia . . . so I need you to ring the front doorbell when Matt gives you the okay,” Trevor said. “Then, Madison . . . you’re going to answer the door, and, Sophia, you’re going to say: ‘Surprise!’ And, Madison, you’re going to look surprised. Got it, girls?”
Madison fluffed her hair in the reflection of the hall mirror, then peered quickly at the brown leather notebook in Trevor’s hands. What was he doing at her apartment, anyway, trying to direct the shoot? She was pretty sure they already had a director. Trevor tended to show up on the set when something important was going on, but he always stayed in the background, just observing. Why was today so special? Because they were filming Sophie’s “surprise visit” to L.A.?
After their stressful (in Madison’s opinion) meeting on Sunday, Trevor had asked her for some background information on Sophie, and Madison had offered him a plausible-sounding explanation (she’d worked on it for weeks) that Sophie was eighteen and had been crashing with some friends in New York City since graduating from high school last June. In turn, Trevor had semi-scripted a story about Sophie showing up unexpectedly in L.A. (which was kind of the truth, minus the blackmail part, ha-ha), and then deciding to stay for good (which was also kind of the truth, except that Madison would much rather see the little bitch go far, far away). This way, viewers could be introduced to Sophie, now “Sophia,” on the show versus off screen; after all, she couldn’t not be there one episode, then suddenly be there the next.
Sophie snaked her hand down her really, really low neckline. “These wires hurt like hell,” she complained, in the process giving Trevor a bird’s-eye view of practically everything. Slut. “Why do I have to wear a microphone, Trev? Can’t I just say my lines super-loudly?”
“It doesn’t work that way, Sophia,” Trevor explained. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the mike pack.”
“You are so mean!” Sophie whined in a little-girl voice. Then she smiled silkily, letting Trevor know that she was kidding. He smiled back.
“Soph . . . Sophia, let’s just do this, okay?” Madison said, gritting her teeth. She wasn’t sure how much more she could stomach of her sister’s attention-whore behavior. Emphasis on “whore.”
Sophie turned her gaze on Madison. The brown contacts were disconcerting; Madison was accustomed to seeing violet blue. In fact, when Sophie was a toddler, Madison used to tease her that her eyes were that color because she loved to eat blueberries so much.
“What’s your hurry, Maddy? You got a hot date with your boyfriend? Derek, right?” Sophie said, batting her eyelashes.
Trevor frowned. “Madison, you have a boyfriend? Why didn’t I know about this? Is he going to film?”
Madison clenched her fists and forced herself to take a deep breath. Was Sophie out of her mind? Did she want to ruin everything? Trevor would not be too understanding about one of his stars sleeping with—and being supported by—a married man. A married, much older man. And Sophie absolutely couldn’t call her “Maddy,” which was her old nickname from back home. “No, there’s no boyfriend. Dirk, not Derek, was ages ago. I’m totally single these days. Which is how I like it,” Madison told Trevor.
“Yeah? What about that dude, what’s his name, back in Armpit Falls? You went out with him for, like, forever. Didn’t seem like you loved being ‘single’ then,” Sophie sneered.
“Did you say . . . Armpit Falls?” Trevor asked.
“It’s a joke, Trevor. My sister’s got a weird sense of humor. Can we get started? I have to be someplace in an hour,” Madison lied, pretending