Lauren Conrad - Sugar and Spice

Hannah’s brown eyes widened as she glanced at the cameras. “Um … no.” She glanced back at Jane. “Didn’t you get my message?”

“Message? What message?”

“I called you, like, half an hour ago, and—”

Isaac, one of the interns, appeared in the doorway. “Jane? Fiona’s ready for you now.”

“Uh … okay.” Jane stared at Hannah, wishing they could talk more. It seemed as though Hannah had wanted to tell her something off camera. If only Jane could text her, but her cell was dead, and she didn’t have time to sign in to her computer and get on IM. What was up? First Matt, then Naomi, then Hannah … everyone was acting so weird today.

Jane followed Isaac to Fiona’s office, wondering what, exactly, was in store for her. Maybe it was more than Fiona’s usual “we don’t tolerate lateness in this office” lectures. Maybe Jane was in serious trouble. But for what? She went through her mental checklist, making sure she hadn’t forgotten to do something important, like booking the DJ for an upcoming sweet sixteen party (for Leda Phillips’s daughter Clementine, who seemed to have inherited her mother’s alcoholism gene—better post extra security guards around the punch bowl and at the restrooms), or pinning down a venue for Miranda Vargas’s (fourth? fifth? sixth?) wedding. She hadn’t.

Matt was standing outside Fiona’s door, giving instructions to Jack and another sound guy. “Jane! Great. Cameras are already rolling, you can go right on in.”

“Okay.”

Inside Fiona’s office, there were three—not two—camera guys in place. Fiona herself was sitting at her desk, leafing through a file. Her sleek black hair and makeup were flawless, as always, thanks to the multiple stylists she always demanded before a shoot. “Jane, there you are. Please sit. How are you today?”

How are you today? Now Jane was really confused. Fiona Chen was pretty much the scariest, coldest boss in the history of bosses. Why was she making pleasant chitchat?

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Jane sat down.

“Good! Let’s get down to business, then. I have a new project I’d like to discuss with you. Aja has hired us to do her engagement party.”

“Aja?” Jane’s jaw dropped. So this was why today’s shoot was such a big deal.

“Yes. Aja. She wants it to be at one of the Las Vegas hotels. As you can imagine, this is a huge new account for us. Aja is an international pop star, and her fiancé, Miguel Velasquez, is one of the most popular rookies in Major League Baseball.”

Jane didn’t know a lot about sports, but she did know about the super-hot Miguel Velasquez. She used to have a huge crush on him, as did every other girl on the planet—and probably a few guys, too.

“I’m putting you in charge of this project. And I want you to meet your new coworker, who’ll be assisting, along with Hannah,” Fiona went on.

“My new coworker?”

“Yes. In fact, she’s here now. Why don’t you say hello?”

Jane heard the door open behind her. She turned around—and practically fell out of her chair as the familiar blonde in a black miniskirt, button-down blouse (with a few too many buttons undone), and sky-high stilettos sauntered in.

“What the—” Jane gasped.

Madison sat down next to Jane and slowly crossed her legs. “Hi, Jane! Isn’t this soooo awesome? We’re going to be working together!”

“No, no, no! There is no way in hell I’m working with her!”

Jane tried not to scream too loudly at Trevor as she paced back and forth across Trevor’s “temporary production space.” So this is why he was here today. She had suspected that something was up—but not this particular something, which was pretty much the worst something, ever. She rubbed her temples—she had a splitting headache—and she was this close to bursting into tears. Although she refused to give Trevor, or anyone eavesdropping outside the closed door, the satisfaction.

Trevor leaned back in his plush leather chair, his expression inscrutable. “It’s not going to be as bad as you think—” he began calmly.

“What? What are you talking about? You promised me, Trevor! You promised me I wouldn’t have to film any more scenes with her. And now you’re making me work with her, like, every single day? What the hell?”

“Look. I didn’t hire her. Fiona did.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Believe what you want, Jane.”

“Fine!” Jane stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath. She had no choice; Trevor was forcing her hand. “Then I quit!”

There. She had said it. It was the right thing to do—wasn’t it? So why were her hands shaking, and why did she feel like throwing up?

“Quit … what? The show? Do I need to remind you that you have a contract?”

“No, not the show. I’m quitting this job.”

Trevor folded his arms across his chest. “Jane. I’m sorry you’re upset. But Madison applied for an opening here and Fiona hired her. We had nothing to do with that, but of course we had to film it. If she had shown up for her first day of work and we had missed it, PopTV would have freaked.” He added, “I don’t blame you for wanting to quit your job. But look—if you do, it’s going to look bad to viewers. They’ll think you’re a spoiled brat who didn’t get her way.”

Jane started to say something not very PG to him, then clamped her mouth shut. She hated to admit it, but he was right. She knew the truth: Madison was a crazy, lying, manipulative bitch who would run over her own mother with a bus if it would make her rich and famous. But all those L.A. Candy fans out there didn’t know that, and if Jane left Fiona Chen Events, they would basically think that Madison had won. That Jane had skulked away in a huff.

Jane had worked hard to get this job. Unlike Madison, who obviously only wanted the airtime, Jane actually wanted to be an event planner and maybe even run her own firm someday. She was not about to let Madison push her out of the way now. She would just have to suck it up and beat Madison at her own game somehow.

On the other hand … Madison, every day? Mornings, afternoons, and evenings and weekends, too, working events? How was Jane going to survive that?

She sank down in one of the conference chairs and twisted a lock of hair around and around her index finger. “I need to discuss this with R.J. and Sam,” she said finally, referring to her agent and publicist.

“Of course. And if you really feel the need to quit—well, I’ll respect your choice.”

Jane glared at Trevor. “Respect” was about the last thing she was feeling from him at this moment.

Madison was waiting outside the conference room when Jane stormed out.

“Hey … Jane?” Madison plastered on a faux-concerned expression and placed her super-fake-looking fingernails on Jane’s arm. Jane had to resist the urge to flinch since there was a camera guy standing not six feet away.

“What?” Jane snapped, pretending to glance at her watch.

“Look. I know this is kinda awkward. But I’m willing to make this work if you are.”

Yeah, right. “Whatever. I’m late for a meeting,” Jane lied.

“Jane, you’ve got to stop blaming me for what happened between you and Jesse. I know you think I told Jesse you cheated on him, but I didn’t.”

“What?” Now Jane was totally confused. What was Madison talking about? Of course Madison was responsible for what happened between her and Jesse—or at least for telling Gossip and the entire world about Jane hooking up with Braden. Jane couldn’t believe Madison was pretending she hadn’t done anything wrong, when they both knew perfectly well what she did.