Beneath the Glitter: A Novel (Sophia and Ava London) (29 page)

“Everything was great at the beginning. But all of a sudden out of the blue my feelings for him were less intense and sometimes—I can’t believe I’m admitting this. You won’t tell, will you?”

Sophia shook her head. “Of course not.”

Ava lowered her voice anyway. “Sometimes I even think he’s a little boring. But nothing changed. He didn’t change. So I think it must be because of my Fear of Attachment.”

“I can see that. Of course. And does your Fear of Attachment like you back?” Sophia asked Ava, keeping her voice casual.

“No, he—” Ava caught herself. “Ha ha. It’s a psychosis, not a person.”

“Sure he is.” Sophia raised her eyebrows at Ava’s exasperated expression. “It sounds like you have to choose one or the other. To stay with Liam and see if setting aside the attraction you feel for your Fear of Attachment makes your feelings come back. Or to break things off with Liam and spend some time getting to know your Fear of Attachment better.” She held up the paper full of signatures. “What do you think?”

Ava pointed to one in the middle that was fancy but not swirly. “This one, definitely.”

Sophia examined it. “I guess. Maybe I should do a few more.”

“Or you are nervous and you’re using this as a way to put off why we’re here but now it’s time for you to show me your photographs,” Ava said.

Sophia nodded. “Or maybe that.” She sighed. “Okay. I think I’m ready. Close your eyes. No peeking.”

Sophia had called Max and asked if they could come a little early so she could give Ava a special viewing of her pieces before the show. He’d said of course and mentioned that it would be a good time to sign them too.

Sophia’s mouth went dry and her stomach felt hollow as she led Ava over to the two walls of the gallery that held her pieces. She couldn’t believe how nervous she was about showing her sister her photos. Having strangers see them felt easy, a piece of cake, compared to this.

The wall above them had the words
PICTURE PERFECT
on it, the title she’d chosen for the collection.

“Okay,” Sophia said, standing off from Ava a little with the hesitant expression of a child who thinks they might get slapped. “Open your eyes.”

Ava’s jaw dropped.

Sophia’s five photos were big, ranging in size from three feet by four feet to a massive one that was eight feet by ten. Their subjects were the paparazzi waiting outside of
LA
’s restaurants and clubs. One of them was a portrait of two of the paparazzi sharing a light, the scattered cigarette butts around their feet showing how long they’d been waiting there. In another six photographers lounged against a fence, necks hung with cameras sporting long lenses that made them look like baby elephants, phones in their hands. The third was captured at the moment they spotted someone coming out of a restaurant, catching them all in action as they moved into position, like runners taking off from a mark at a race. The remaining two showed them already in position, crouched or leaning forward or climbing on something, a horde of lenses directed at the same target like heat-seeking missiles on an enemy base. None of the photos showed the celebrities, making the photographers the subject. She used the map coordinates of the places they were shot as the titles rather than easier-to-understand locations to give them an archaeological feeling, pinpointing each one to a specific quadrant of the Los Angeles fame map.

“They’re stunning,” Ava said, close to tears. “Smart and funny and beautiful.” She turned to Sophia. “I—I don’t know what to say.” Regaining her composure she added, “Except that for sure we’re having you shoot the next London Calling campaign.”

Sophia laughed. “If there ever is one.”

They stood side by side looking at them, both smiling. “Do you really think they’re okay?” Sophia asked shyly.

Ava hugged her. “You know they are. You don’t need me to tell you. But I think they’re amazing. And everyone else will too.”

*   *   *

“I’m so glad you came,” Ava said to Dalton and Kiss as she accidentally ran into them near the bathroom at Sophia’s show.

“It was hard to catch up with you,” Kiss said. “We kept seeing you but then you’d disappear.”

“The crowd,” Ava told her, gesturing to the packed space.

It was true that the opening of the photography show at the Max Houck Gallery was completely 3S—“I’ve seen Aunt Meryl, Aunt Barbra, and Aunt Demi already, and it’s only six twenty-five,” Lily had announced an hour earlier—but that wasn’t the real reason it had been so hard for Dalton and his sister to catch up with Ava.

“Dalton said you were avoiding us.” Kiss laughed.

Ava laughed too. “Of course not.”

She studiously avoided Dalton’s eyes because he was right. She was avoiding them. She’d seen them walk in and had been about to go to them when they made a direct line for Sophia. Dalton had smiled at her and introduced her to Kiss and even though Ava hadn’t been able to see his expression, she was sure it had been filled with unrequited longing and—

She felt bad for him. That was all. It was sad to watch him pine for Sophia. So she had ducked around a partition, spent several minutes talking to the caterers about the virtues of still versus sparkling water, given herself a tour of the office, and finally ended up on the corner of the exhibition space near the bathrooms.

Where Dalton and Kiss cornered her.

She smiled at them now and said, “I should probably get back out there.”

“She should probably get back out there,” Dalton told Kiss.

Kiss patted him on the shoulder of his jacket and turned to Ava. “Dalton has something to tell you.”

“I don’t need—” Ava called to her but she was talking to her back. She looked at Dalton. For someone who was in the throes of unrequited love, he looked really good. He was wearing a faded blackish T-shirt with dark jeans and a gray blazer that, with his glasses, made him look like a cool, young professor.

“Um. Hi,” Ava managed to say finally.

Dalton raised his hand in a short wave. “Hi.” He cleared his throat. “This is awkward.”

“It is. What did Kiss mean about you having something to say to me?”

“What?” Dalton asked. His eyes had strayed to something behind Ava’s back. “I don’t know, you know how sisters are. Speaking of which—”

Ava turned to see Sophia coming directly toward them. “Have you seen my phone?” she asked. “I can’t find it.”

Ava shook her head. “Are you sure you brought it?”

“No. I assumed I did but—” Sophia shrugged. “I guess it’s not important. I should focus on who is here, not who isn’t anyway.” She smiled at Dalton. “Your sister is great.”

“Yeah,” he said. “She is.”

“Sophia, come meet Roberto,” Max Houck called. Dalton’s eyes followed her as she turned and went, giving them a little wave.

“She looks really beautiful, doesn’t she?” Ava said.

Dalton made an uncomfortable face that broke her heart a little. “Yes. She really does.”

Ava shifted the subject. “Did you see her work? I—I know I’m her sister but I have to admit I was blown away.”

“It was great,” Dalton agreed. “You must be really proud.”

“I am,” Ava nodded. Kept nodding.

The silence between them stretched until Ava said, “I was going to call you today. We’re doing a benefit for Pet Paradise. It was Sophia’s idea. I wanted to see if your band would play.”

He frowned. “What do you mean? What kind of benefit for Pet Paradise?”

“A fund-raiser. We figured that we have so much notoriety right now we might as well use it for something good. It’s going to be next week. I know that’s quick, but Hunter is letting us use his beach house and he got us checks with puppies on them and Lily has arranged all kinds of things and Sven, that’s
MM
’s boyfriend, is getting a bouncy castle although—”

“Sounds like a real carnival,” Dalton said dryly. “I can’t help wonder who it’s going to help more, the shelter or the London sisters.”

Ava was stunned by the coldness in his tone. “It might help us a little but what we really care about is the shelter. We’ve already raised five thousand dollars online and we have a private benefactor offering a lot more. We’re serious about this.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said sarcastically. “The more money you raise, the more good press you get.”

“We’re saving the shelter.”

“And there’s your other tagline.”

Ava was speechless. Almost. “I—I thought you’d think it was a good idea.”

“What? That you’re leveraging your fancy friends to help restore your reputation as just regular nice girls who care about cute furry animals?”

“That we are going to raise enough money to keep a roof over all those animals’ heads and maybe even expand the shelter. You’re the one who told me it was going to close if the phone-a-thon didn’t work. Well, this is better.”

“Better for someone,” Dalton agreed. His attention had been divided between her and something behind her for the past few minutes, but now it shifted completely and his expression became grim.

“I have to go,” he said and stalked off without even looking back at Ava.

She felt chilled and raw. Frozen. She stood staring at the space he’d just left. She could still smell him, beachy and fresh like the boardwalk air back home. Could still feel the sting of his words.

Why did she care so much what he thought of her—of the benefit, she asked herself. He was just one guy, and a rude one at that. Stomping away in the middle of a conversation just because …

Fairly sure what she would see but unable to stop herself, Ava turned around and looked behind her. The crowds were thick but through them it was impossible to miss Sophia laughing and smiling, with Hunter’s arm around her waist. As if to confirm that was the reason for his abrupt departure, Ava made out Dalton practically dragging Kiss out of the gallery as though he couldn’t stand to look at Sophia when he couldn’t have her.

Ava watched him go, wishing she inspired that level of passion in someone. Not in
someone,
she admitted to herself. In—

“Why are you standing over here in the corner when you could be outshining everyone in the middle of the room,” Liam asked, coming over and giving her a fast kiss on the cheek.

“I was just taking it in,” she said, smiling up at him. “Where have you been?”

“I had a script I had to get back to my agent about.” He looked around cautiously. “
Young Santa
. A funny Christmas action movie. Pure fluff. Still very hush-hush.”

Ava nodded. “Sounds highly entertaining.”

“There are some great snowmobile chase scenes.” He cracked his knuckles in expectation, mind not at the gallery but seeing broad expanses of snowy wilderness, with him carving a path through it. “Would really help me plump my action chops.” His eyes refocused on the present and he smiled down at her. “This is a great party. What do you say we give these photographers something real to take pictures of?” he said as he gave her a long slow kiss on the lips.

It was nice, she had to admit. Very nice. As they pulled away she was thinking that maybe she could put her Fear of Attraction aside. Since he, er, it wasn’t interested in her at all.

And then Liam said, “How’s Poptart?” and Ava knew she had to break up with him.

“He’s fine,” she smiled. “Are you free for dinner after this? I’d love to just have a chance to talk to you.”

Liam got a strange, cagey expression on his face. “Unfortunately, I’m not,” he told her. “That script I was mentioning? I need to make notes on it for a meeting early tomorrow.” He looked at his watch. “I should probably leave now.”

“Maybe we can hang out tomorrow then,” Ava said.

“Maybe,” he told her. He gave her another kiss, this one the short kind he did when no one was watching, then chucked her under the chin and headed for the door.

*   *   *

“‘… evocative portraits of modern celebrity culture and the machine that propels it forward,’” MM repeated with a slight French accent. “That’s what Claude LeBoufe said about your photos, princess. And he’s major.”

Sophia smiled and hugged herself, feeling slightly shell-shocked. The evening had been wonderful and exciting and strange all at once. Most people had said nice things about her photos—especially when she was standing there—but there was one critic who had been ruthless.

“This whole Who’s Watching the Watcher thing has been done to death,” she’d told her companion, well within Sophia’s hearing. “These have no sophistication. No taste. Flat, boring. I’d rather watch one of the girl’s videos than look at this.”

The critique caught Sophia off guard and she’d found herself in need of air, lots of it. She pushed her way out the back door and was standing in the far corner of the parking lot, taking deep breaths and trying not to cry, when a slightly accented voice from the shadows said, “Sophia?
Stella,
is that you?”

Before Sophia could answer, Giovanni was next to her. Without thinking, she pushed her face into his shoulder and felt his arms come up around her, holding her gently but protectively. He smelled clean, not like cologne but like soap and laundry detergent and fresh air. They didn’t talk, just stood that way, until her breathing steadied and she pulled away.

Sophia shook her head ruefully and said, “How is it that you always see me at my worst?”

“I would say the opposite,
stella,
” he told her, offering her another of his handkerchiefs. “I always see you at your bravest. Which is the best.”

“I’m not sure the way I treated you after the champagne tasting was my best,” Sophia said, fingering the hem of the handkerchief.

“Why?” Giovanni sounded genuinely surprised. “Because you made an opinion? Because you disagree with me? Perhaps this is hard on the ego, yes, a little, but also it makes me admire you more. It is, how do you say, the privilege to see you passionate.”

Sophia found she was having trouble breathing again, but in a whole new way. She swallowed hard. “You were right, though,” she told him finally. “The
LA Times
critic hated my work.” She began to twist the ring on her finger, her eyes down.

“Ah,” she heard Giovanni say. “I do not think you understood what I meant that night. Your work,
stella,
it is wonderful. It is only that you yourself are more wonderful. So—” He took her hand in his, stilling her fingers and making her look at him. “What I see is a beginning most impressive. And the more you become comfortable to show of yourself, the more outstanding your pictures they will become. You understand?”