Holly Hearts Headlines (Holly Hearts Hollywood Book 2) (25 page)

I thought that
someone
would notice Grayson. I know he’s in disguise, but it isn’t a very good one, and you can still see that it’s obviously him. Maybe no one is noticing him because why on Earth would someone like Grayson Frost be in Disneyland with a family like
mine
?

I’m not normally into eavesdropping, but these girls behind me just started to talk about Lacey. I heard them say her name a few times. I need to call Lacey sometime soon and try to patch everything up. In the beginning, it looked like we could actually be friends. Lacey has some rough edges, but she’s a good person deep down. I know it.

Hold on. I could have sworn those girls just said
my name
. How would they know my name?

I just peered over their shoulders to see the article they’re reading on their phone is about me and Lacey.

Someone told the media. Everyone knows.

I’m so screwed.

Later, 1:30pm—Home

My life is over. I mean it this time. I know I’ve said it a lot before, but I’m a hundred percent serious. I’m totally finished. After I noticed the article on that phone in Disneyland, I just froze. I stood there with my pen in my hand for a solid minute without moving. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure if I should tell someone right then and there or hope that maybe it was some kind of cruel joke.

But I didn’t have to make any decisions, as it turns out. Moments later Grayson’s phone began buzzing with text messages. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he pulled the phone out of his jeans pocket (once again though I’d like to bring up the fact that I am routinely amazed that he can put ANYTHING in the pockets of those tight jeans) as he read through his messages with a confused look on his face.

Finally, he held his phone out for me to see and said, “Holly, what is this?”

LACEY
BENNETT
IS
A
FRAUD
the headline screamed in that bold, scandalous way only an internet article can.

“Um,” was all I managed to say. I could have said anything else in the world at that moment that would have been better than the gargled noise that came out of my mouth. I could have said, “Did you know that milk isn’t actually good for cats to drink so the cartoons that depict cats drinking milk out of a saucer are completely fictitious,” and that would have been a major improvement.

“Holly,” Grayson said even more firmly. “Is this true?”

“What’s going on?” my mom interrupted. Her mom-sense must’ve been tingling because I could tell that she was on high alert.

My emotional high suddenly crashed. And it crashed hard. I felt like I was on the brink of a very ugly crying session. “We have to go,” I said.

“What?” Grayson replied, his eyebrows furrowed together into a furious caterpillar.

“We have to go right
now
,” I said even more firmly.

Mom nodded and she took my arm in hers. “Okay, let’s go.”

“What?” Grayson asked dumbly as he followed behind us. “I don’t understand, Holly. How can that article be true? Do you know what it said about
me?
”

I felt like someone had just torn a hole in my internal organs. I felt like I was dying. If someone broke the news about me and my role with Shell Shocked, I would hate to find out what they said about Grayson. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t ask Grayson. I just kept pushing past everyone in the Space Mountain line like they weren’t even there.

“Hey!” people kept shouting at me as I barreled through them, but I ignored them like a champ. I was in the middle of a crisis and I had
no
time to stop and apologize to people. I’m not sure if it was the
best
time to work on being assertive, but what can you do?

I finally emerged from Space Mountain, and I took a deep breath of California pollution with great joy. My mind was whirling. I was scrambling to find a way out of this. There
had
to be a way. I could feel my phone in my purse buzzing away like crazy, but I ignored it.

Grayson put his hand on my shoulder very firmly and stopped my furious speed-walk. “Holly, stop. Please tell me what’s going on.”

I took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes for the first time since this whole thing started only a few minutes ago. It felt like it had been hours since I first saw that headline, but it had probably been less than two minutes. Grayson’s hazel eyes made me swoon slightly, but I recovered.

I told him everything. I told him about the YouTube videos and the first email I received from Shell Shocked. I told him about the trip down here, meeting Lacey, and the details of the contract. I told him every single little thing that I’ve been keeping from him all this time. It felt AWESOME. I got to tell him that I was a singer, that I was responsible for an album that sold millions of copies, and most importantly my double life was completely shattered.

But, it was absolutely terrible to watch sudden distrust appear all over Grayson’s face. “Holly, how could you keep something like this from me?”

At first, I wanted to say, “Yeah, you’re totally right, dude. I suck. I’m the worst. I should’ve told you everything.” But then I remembered my contract and the fact that I have a forty-five year old CEO for an arch nemesis, and I quickly set the record straight and told him all about Manuel Salazar and my contract.

Even my SISTER came over and tried to talk some sense into Grayson. “It isn’t Holly’s fault,” she said. “She didn’t have a choice but to keep this a secret.”

“So you weren’t just trying to trick me?” he asked.

“NO!” My mom, sister, and I all said at once.

Grayson looked pained. He pulled out his phone and showed me the article again. “Then could you please tell me why they know about my dream to be on Broadway?”

I shook my head quickly because I was sure I didn’t hear that correctly. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Whoever leaked this story also told the media that I hate country music and want to be on Broadway!” Grayson said a little loudly. “This could ruin me.” Grayson’s phone had been ringing non-stop since we left the ride. He rolled his eyes and said, “Hold on a minute,” and answered his phone.

We left Disney then, the day was totally finished even before it really started. Grayson didn’t talk to me for the whole car ride home because he was on his phone with his agent, his manager, his parents, and everyone else in the industry.

Grayson did kiss me briefly before he left and promised he’d call me later once he sorted through his whole mess, so maybe he doesn’t hate me.

I haven’t even checked my phone. I turned it off a long time ago. Maybe I should just turn it on and see who’s called …

OH
MY
GOD.

Later, 5:25pm—Home

I’ve used the expression “my phone is blowing up” a lot. I usually use it to describe any time I get more than one text message within a fifteen-minute timeframe. Today I learned the true meaning of the phrase. When I turned my phone on I didn’t have just one message or even two, I had sixty-seven text messages, twenty-one missed calls, and twenty-one voicemails.

I barely had any time to even start reading my text messages before an incoming call from Meredith came in. I didn’t see any point in avoiding her call so I answered it.

“HOLLY,” she shouted. “What the hell?”

I cringed. “Meredith, it is a really long story.” I steeled myself for the barrage of accusations I was sure she had prepared.
Why didn’t you tell me?
Don’t you trust me? What else have you been keeping from me?

Instead, she said, “Holly this is
amazing
. Oh my God, you recorded a platinum-selling album!”

I paused. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Mad at you?” she asked incredulously. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I withheld this information from you.”

“Well, of course you did. I’m assuming the studio had some intimidating lawyers give you a scary-looking contract.”

I shuddered remembering the bald Tweedledee and Tweedledum lawyers from my first few days in LA. “Yes, I had to sign it in front of witnesses.”

“There you go. I’m not going to be mad at you taking such an opportunity.” She paused for a second. “But now that the secret’s out what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly.

“Do you know who told the media?”

That was the million-dollar question. Who on Earth would tell the media about this? There’s a very small group of people who know the truth, but who would
benefit
from letting the cat out of the bag? For all I know this could have come from some pencil pusher at the studio who I’ve never even met.

“I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter now,” I told her finally. “It’s out. Let’s just see where the dice will fall.”

“Oh, I almost forgot! Amanda and I got accepted to Columbia!” Meredith said.

“You did?” I asked excitedly.

“Have you gotten any letters yet?”

“No, but I’m a little distracted right now,” I said right as my phone buzzed in my ear from another text message.

Meredith and I said our goodbyes, and then I scrolled through all of my messages. Every single person I’ve ever had an interaction with has texted me. They’ve crawled out of the woodwork to reach out to me and say, “Hey remember that time I let you borrow my pencil in kindergarten? Well now that you have a record album, do you want to hang out?”

I have voicemails from
Good Morning America, Access Hollywood,
and even Rush Limbaugh’s radio show. I wouldn’t be on his show in a million years. They could pay me a hundred million dollars and set me up for a dinner and movie with Zayn Malik and I’d
still
say no.

I’m in limbo right now. Yesterday, even though things were tough, I knew what my life looked like. I mean sure, it is a weird life but it is
my
life and I love it, despite all of my complaining.

What am I supposed to do now? Run away and join the circus?

Later, 8:30pm—Home

Do you remember that scene in
The Hunger Games
when President Snow comes over to Katniss’ house and makes lots of scary threats? Because I’m pretty sure I just experienced a version of that minus the scary white roses and death threats.

Manuel Salazar knocked own my front door about an hour ago. Obviously, when I first heard the knocking on the door I had no idea that my middle-aged arch nemesis would be on the other side. I was hoping it was Grayson. He did say he would call me hours ago, and I haven’t heard a blessed thing from him.

So when I heard a knock, I practically galloped to the door.

“I got it!” I shouted as I hurdled over a pile of clean laundry I’ve been neglecting. I flung the front door open with a big grin on my face that quickly vanished the moment I saw Manuel Salazar’s shiny bald head and ridiculous eyebrows. If there was ever a man who needed an eyebrow wax, it’s him.

“Holly,” he said flatly. He stepped past me and into the house without so much as a “May I come in?”

He looked so awkward standing there in my living room in his designer suit and giant, hulking frame.

“Do you want to sit down?” I asked awkwardly.

“No, I’ll stand,” he said slowly as he surveyed the living room.

“Can I help you with anything?”

He finally turned and faced me. He did so in the most dramatic fashion possible. All he was missing was a white fluffy cat and an eye patch. Then his transformation into super villain would’ve been complete. “I don’t suppose,” he finally said after an excruciating pause, “that you’re going to be honest with me and admit what you’ve done.”

“Be honest about what?”

“Holly, I’m not dense. You are the only person who could benefit from leaking this story to the press.”

I blinked. “How would
I
benefit? The whole appeal of this arrangement was to keep me out of the spotlight. This just puts me
in
the spotlight even more.”

Manuel put his hands in his pockets. “Look, I know I’m not going to get you to confess, and I’m not even sure that it matters anymore. Even if the studio did decide to take you to court for breach of contract, we would just look like the bad guys in the end. So congrats, Holly. You win. The tour is cancelled. You’re free.”

I once read about this elementary technique actors use to come across as natural and realistic. They think through three emotions: mad, sad, and glad. If they experience all three emotions in a few words or a few sentences, it feels the most natural. It seems like they are actually thinking and feeling the situation, rather than saying memorized lines.

I’ve never been much of an actor. I couldn’t act my way out of a paper bag. If my life depended on me being able to give a convincing monologue, I would be promptly executed the moment I started talking. So when Manuel told me the news about the tour being canceled I had to flex my strongest acting muscle to pretend that I wasn’t
thrilled to pieces
by the news.

“Oh,” I said in my best “how disappointing” voice. “That’s too bad,” I followed up in a tone that I hoped conveyed some sound of regret or sorrow over the news. “But it is probably for the best,” I said as if the thought had just occurred to me.

“Either way,” Manuel said, “we have no choice.”

We both stood there quietly. I’m sure we were thinking the same thing. At least I hope we were. Because as far as I was concerned, he could’ve
called me
with this information instead of showing up at my front door, and I think in that moment he realized the same thing. But he seems like a dramatic man, so an in-person visit is much more impactful than a phone call.

“Well, I won’t keep you anymore,” he said abruptly, and he headed toward the door. Just before he shut the door behind him he said, “But don’t think that this means we are just letting this go, Holly. If we find even the smallest shred of evidence that you did this, you’ll be very sorry.” And then he was gone without so much as a “So sorry for barging in like this and threatening you.”