âOver here!â
âLetâs get a shot of the two of you!â
âSmile, girls!â
Jane Roberts felt hands on her shouldersâher publicist? random PopTV assistants?âmaneuver her into place as several paparazzi shouted out to her and Scarlett Harp. Nearby, dozens of fans waved wildly, screamed the girlsâ names, and snapped photos with their cell phones.
Scarlett bent her head toward Janeâs. âWhat are the rules on skipping the red carpet at your own premiere?â
âHa-ha,â Jane said, grinning. âThink youâre gonna have a hard time getting out of this one, Scar.â
âIâm giving them five minutes, then heading inside for a drink. Something tells me Iâm gonna need it tonight.â
âGood luck. I think weâre stuck here till, like, seven thirty. Besides, live television and booze arenât the best combination. And Iâm pretty sure the two drinks you had at dinner should tide you over.â
Scarlett rolled her eyes. âWhatever.â
Flashbulbs began popping brightly. Jane took a deep breath, fixed a smile on her face, and tried not to feel overwhelmed. Of course PopTV made sure the media was out in full force on the red carpet for L.A. Candyâs Season 2 premiere. Their little show had somehow become the top rated on the network, and a lot was riding on the premiere. The party would air live on PopTV, to be immediately followed by the episode itself.
Jane glanced over her shoulder at the sprawling lawn of the magnificent Spanish-style Hollywood Hills mansion. Hundreds of people were at this event: photographers, fans, and an assortment of entertainment industry types. On a makeshift stage near the infinity pool, pop star Aja was revving up to sing. There were TV cameras everywhere.
PopTV really knew how to throw a party!
âScarlett, turn more to the left,â a photographer shouted.
âStand closer together!â another one added.
Jane obeyed, never breaking her smile. After all, as one of the four main girls on L.A. Candy, tonight was work, not play (even though she had to act as though she was having fun).
But Scarlett wasnât quite so understanding. âGood thing theyâre here to tell me how to pose for a picture. I couldnât have figured it out without them,â she muttered. She glared at a PopTV assistant who was coming toward her with a powder brush; the assistant backed off.
âScar!â Jane whispered.
âYeah, yeah, I know. Iâm trying my best.â
As the photographers continued shouting directions and taking picturesâwhy was it taking soooo long?âJane kept her smile in place and resisted the impulse to touch her long, blond, wavy hair, which felt stiff and weird from the insane amount of hair spray the PopTV stylists had subjected it to. Nor was she totally comfortable in her black ruffle dress by a new designer named Mario Nuñez, which accentuated her five-foot-five, sort-of-in-shape figure nicely, but made her feel way older than her nineteen years. Nunezâs publicist had worked it out with Janeâs publicist: a free dress for Jane in exchange for publicity for Nuñez. (Jane could see the magazine caption now: âJane Roberts rocks a Nuñez strapless at the L.A. Candy premiere!â)
Before famed producer Trevor Lord chose her to be on his new reality TV show, Jane had no idea that so many âspontaneousâ celebrity photos (âAnna Payne stocks up on pumpkin soap at Lush!â âJared Walsh hand-feeds sushi to Brazilian supermodel Catarina at Geisha House!â) were actually prearranged by publicists. Of course, before L.A. Candy, Jane had been clueless about what really went on in Hollywood. Now that she was a celebrity (although she still had a hard time thinking of herself that way), her life had completely changed. She and Scar were no longer the anonymous girls from Santa Barbara who moved to L.A. seven months ago, Jane to intern with a top event planner, and Scar to be a freshman at USC. Back then, the girls didnât wear nine-hundred-dollar designer dresses that they didnât have to pay for, and paparazzi didnât try to record their every move.