Beneath the Glitter: A Novel (Sophia and Ava London) (13 page)

“I’m not saying that,” Sophia said. “I guess … I’m just saying be careful. And maybe let the dust settle on his relationship with Whitney before getting too involved.”

“Too late for that,” said Ava on a shaky breath.

For a moment the two sisters faced one another across the kitchen table, the only sound the ticking of the clock above the fridge and the low hum of traffic from outside. The light coming through the yellow eyelet curtains was mellow and golden, in sharp contrast to the emotions coursing through Ava. Her heart felt like one of her hand weights pumping against her ribs, and her mouth was dry from nervousness. She didn’t know why but instead of being ecstatic she felt suddenly … terrified. And not because of Liam. More because of Sophia’s disapproval.

But then Sophia smiled and took Ava’s hand. “Yeah, it’s been hard to miss. And for what it’s worth, I’m happy he makes you happy—and you know I support you in whatever you do, right?”

Ava took a deep, fortifying breath. The situation was far from perfect, but just knowing that Sophia supported her made her feel a million times better. “Yeah, I know. And I’ll keep an eye on Whitney.”

“I’ll help,” Sophia agreed. “And on the bright side,
cutie,
at least the papers don’t know your name yet.”

Ava’s eyes got huge, but not because of what Sophia had just said. “Wow, is that the time?”

“Way to change the subject.”

“I’m not, I’m being serious.” Ava pointed at the clock that hung above the refrigerator. We’re supposed to be at the event in a little over an hour.”

Ninety minutes was the rule to get ready for an official event so they were way short, but somehow they managed to be dressed and sliding into the car—Ava wearing a lavender plaid romper with pearl buttons that she cinched at the waist with a wide brown belt and brown open-toe wedge ankle boots and a pheasant feather clipped into her hair; Sophia in a cream ruffle-front minidress with turquoise-and-snakeskin platform sandals and a stack of bangles on each arm—only one minute later than they planned.

It was a short ride to the Beverly Center from their house but long enough for worry about the absence of Liam’s texts to have gone from puzzling to
HORRIBLE SIGN/WORLD ENDING
status in Ava’s mind (ten and a half minutes).

“What’s wrong?” Sophia asked around minute six.

“Nothing, why do you say something is wrong?” Ava answered, compressing the words into one quick breath.

“Because you haven’t said a word since we’ve been in the car.”

Ava stared out the window. “Am I boring? Do you think I’m boring?”

“No.” Sophia chuckled. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re my sister.” Ava slumped down in her seat. “What if Liam loses interest in me? What if I’m not sophisticated enough for him or cool enough? I don’t know the right people. I can’t get us onto the guest lists at the right clubs.”

Sophia looked confused. “What are you talking about? Why would he care about that? Besides, if that’s what he was looking for, he’d date Lily.”

For some reason instead of making Ava feel better that made her feel worse. And a little annoyed at Sophia. “Not helpful,” she snapped.

Sophia signaled to turn into the Beverly Center parking lot. “Why are you freaking out about this? You and he are joined at the iPhone.”

“He hasn’t texted this morning. Not once.”

“I’m sure he’s just busy,” Sophia said. “Or sleeping.”

“What if he’s out doing something with someone else? What if he’s already losing interest in me?”

Sophia put the car in park and turned to Ava. “Look at me.” She waited until Ava met her eyes. “He’s not losing interest in you. You are way too interesting.”

“The way you said that didn’t exactly sound like a compliment,” Ava said, following Sophia out of the car. “It was a compliment, right? Sophia? Hey, wait up.”

The central atrium of the Beverly Center was already packed with people for the Legs Ahoy event. The event was supposed to promote their new Shaveventure line, a disposable razor with a special shave strip that allowed you to shave and moisturize your legs anytime, anywhere, without creams, lotions—or water. Sophia and Ava would demonstrate how it worked in what the Legs Ahoy people called “a challenging shaving environment,” which would let people see real people using it in real time.

They were met by the Legs Ahoy representative and ushered into a hallway to wait until their official introduction. It started with the tolling of a deep resonant bell like the one on Big Ben in London. That was their cue to walk out to a poppy techno beat which became a little crackly when they reached the stage. As they climbed the stairs from opposite sides an old-fashioned British telephone operator’s voice said, “London Calling.”

Ava and Sophia had been put in short lab coats that covered their clothes but not much else. With the techno pop music pumping in the background, they each picked up a Shaveventure razor and marched to the sides of the stage where two of the iconic red British phone booths had been set up. Shutting themselves inside, they demonstrated the ease and convenience of the Shaveventure by shaving their legs inside the phone booth.

It had sounded good at the concept meeting and even seemed doable in the rehearsal at the Legs Ahoy offices the week before but now, on stage, it turned out to be a bit less easy than it looked. Ava peered across the stage toward Sophia’s booth to see if she was having the same problems and almost choked, smothering her laughter at the what-were-we-thinking—no-what-were-
they-
thinking expression on Sophia’s face. She tapped three fingers on the side of her thigh and Ava nodded, so at the count of three they both stood up, put on a big smile, and came out of their booths.

Right before going back out onto the stage, Ava had managed to steal a glance at her phone. Still no message from Liam.

She pasted a smile on her face and, taking Sophia’s hand, walked to the front of the stage where they would be interviewed by the Legs Ahoy host about their Shaveventure.

The host joined them on stage and was calming the crowd so he could ask his first question when someone shouted, “Ava, what’s it like to kiss Liam Carlson?”

Ava felt the blood drain from her body and her mind went completely blank.

Another voice yelled, “Ava, are you the reason Liam Carlson and Whitney Frost broke up?”

“Ava, did Liam come with you today?”

Ava wanted to curl up into a ball and hide. No, she wanted to say. Liam isn’t here. Liam, apparently, is never ever speaking to me again.

Sophia moved closer to Ava and linked her fingers through her sister’s.

“I guess they found out my name,” Ava said.

“I guess they did.”

“The real question,” the Legs Ahoy host said, trying to salvage the situation, “is what Liam Carlson thinks of your Shaveventure legs. I know you’ve been using the product at home for a while. What’s he said about it?”

There were hoots and bird whistles from the audience. The Legs Ahoy host winked at them and held the mic toward Ava who was praying in her mind for a natural disaster. Not a big one, a tiny one, one that would only affect the one square foot of territory on which she was—

“Come on, there’s a better way to answer that question,” a voice said, and looking behind her Ava took in the incredible sight of Liam striding across the stage. “You don’t have to take her word for it, you can ask me yourself.” He took her in his arms and spun her around. “Hi, babe,” he said in her ear as he set her down. “Looks like we’re official.”

Ava felt like her heart had grown wings and was soaring.
BABE! LIAM CARLSON CALLED ME BABE!
“Is that okay with you?”

“Okay? It’s great. Look at these crowds. Now let me feel those legs.” He bent down and ran his palm slowly up Ava’s calf.

The sound of the audience’s titillated screams was nearly deafening.

But even better was the sound of Corrina’s voice later on Ava and Sophia’s voice mail. “You two are on a roll. The sponsor couldn’t be happier. A surprise appearance from a major box-office star. Keep it up.”

Keep it up,
Ava repeated, dancing around the apartment. “Larger crowd than expected.”

“Be careful,” Sophia said.

Ava stopped dancing entirely and stared at her. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? Why do you always have to turn everything positive into a negative?”

“Why are you so touchy? I was suggesting that you be careful of the table. Remember how you bashed into it the other day while you were dancing?”

“Oh.”

Sophia picked a thread off her skirt. “But since you mentioned it, I don’t think it’s such a great thing to have Liam involved in our appearances.”

“He’s not ‘involved in our appearances.’ This was one time—”

“I know,” Sophia interrupted. “It’s just … I guess I saw this coming and it’s exactly what I was afraid would happen, that’s all.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “Is that your way of telling me ‘I told you so’?”

Sophia looked at her levelly. “Ava, we’re a brand, London Calling. That means that what happens to one of us affects us both.” Sensing Ava’s protest, she said, “I’m only saying this because I care. About us and about you. Relationships are tricky and even more tricky in the public eye. The gossip magazines have already come calling, and this is just the beginning. You need to be really careful. If you and Liam are in public and he bends to tie his shoe they’ll have him proposing. All they want is to sell magazines. They don’t care what they say or who they hurt in the process.”

“But no one’s getting hurt—”

“Trust me, when you’re having relationship problems and everyone around you is gossiping about them, it can be more painful than you know.” At Ava’s skeptical expression, Sophia sighed. “I wish you’d trust my opinion. Wasn’t I right about the magazines being on your and Liam’s story like red on Louboutin pumps?”

Yes, Sophia was always right. And Ava was the little London who didn’t know any better. Why couldn’t Sophia treat her like an adult instead of like a child? Why couldn’t she respect her decisions? “Fine, then. But I wish instead of needing to be right, you could just be happy for me. You’re supposed to be my biggest supporter. My number one fan. I feel like you’re abandoning me.”

“I’m not. I feel like you’re pushing me away.”

Ava stood as straight as she could, her hands curled into fists. “You know what? Maybe I am. Maybe I need a little more space. A little less of your protection.”

Sophia’s phone pinged and when she’d read the message she looked up at Ava. “That was Lily. She knows someone who has a table at SkyBar tonight but I told her I wasn’t—”

“You should go. They’ll card me. Besides, I have other things to do,” she said, already typing on her phone.

Sophia hugged her arms across her chest. “Are you sure? I feel like we’re—”

“Weren’t you just listening to me? I want more space. Time alone. Free time.”

“If that’s really what—”

“God, why don’t you just leave me alone?”

Sophia felt like she’d been punched. There was so much anger and frustration in Ava’s tone, so much pain.

“Okay,” Sophia said, more a whisper than a word. “Okay,” she repeated.

When she came out an hour later, in wine-colored pleather shorts, a cream satin top, and heels, Ava was in the same place on the sofa, phone in her hands, thumbs moving.

Sophia stopped in front of the couch, hesitating.

“Ava?”

Ava glanced up now, thumbs hovering in midair, a look of impatience on her face. “What?”

“I—I just wanted to say don’t forget about tomorrow. It’s our big meeting with LuxeLife at noon.”

Ava sneered. “Thanks, Mom.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re not responsible for me and you don’t have to treat me like I’m a child.”

Sophia had to bite her lip to keep from saying—

She didn’t even know what. She just knew she wanted to cry.

In her mind she heard Ava’s voice, so saturated with anger but also sadness and something she couldn’t quite identify, saying, “Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

Because I love you. Because you’re my sister
. Sophia had the answers.

She just couldn’t find the words.

LonDOs

Waterproof mascara

Drowning your sorrows in ice cream

LonDON’Ts

Keeping secrets from each other

Not being able to drown your sorrows in ice cream because your sister ate it all drowning hers

12

ruff stuff

Ava’s phone rang at 4:35
A.M.
She groped for it, answering it with the light still off. “Hello?”

“Ava London? This is Estelle from Pet Paradise. Sorry to call at this hour but we have an emergency. Litter of puppies trapped by a breakwater in Malibu. Shouldn’t take too long, all we need is a pair of hands. I’ll send someone to pick you up in the shelter van. You don’t have to bring anything; they’ll have all the equipment. I know this is a long shot and you’re still new but is there any chance—”

“Yes,” Ava answered before Estelle finished.

She left a note for Sophia telling her she’d see her at the LuxeLife meeting then zipped the outfit she was planning on wearing into a garment bag, packed up her shoes and travel makeup kit so she could change at the shelter after the emergency and get a ride from someone, and ran downstairs.

Her timing was perfect and the shelter van was just pulling up when she got there. She opened the passenger door and said, “Would it be okay if I—
oh
.”

“Yeah.” Dalton nodded. “That was pretty much my reaction too. But,” he went on, “I decided to rise above it. So, good morning, Ava London.” His eyes got big as Ava loaded her duffle bag, then her garment bag, then her tote bag into the van. “And good morning half of Ava London’s wardrobe.”

Ava climbed into the passenger seat. “It is not half my wardrobe,” she said, and immediately regretted it when she saw him bite back a laugh. He sat there, not driving, just staring at her.

She could only imagine the zingers he was lining up in his mind and she decided she wanted to get them over with. “Go on,” she said. “What are you waiting for?”