Holly Hearts Hollywood (12 page)

Lacey sniffed the air and grimaced with venom at an unwashed hippie as she walked by. “Your mom needs a No Shower
,
No Service sign,” she said.

Serena glared daggers at Lacey. “We’ll be back. I want to go say hello to Mrs. Hart.”

I didn’t bother to correct Serena. Mom didn’t take Dad’s last name, but whenever I tell someone that, they get confused and aren’t sure how to address her. Serena and I pushed our way through the crowd toward my mom just as Grayson returned with the most beautiful bouquet I’ve ever seen. It was a gorgeous, chaotic, artistic jumble of magnolias and orchids. Lacey would have no complaints about that bouquet. It was anything but juvenile.

My mom’s earth-brown hair was twisted into a messy French braid, and I could see dirt smeared on her cheek and lodged in the cracks of the skin on her hands.

“Hey, Holly,” she said loudly over the din.

“Mom, this is my friend Serena.”

My mom smiled and turned to quickly scold Demaris, another employee, for putting baby’s breath in an arrangement it had no business being in. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she lied. I haven’t talked to my mom about her at all. I feel bad about it, but then again, when I do tell my mom about my friends, she asks for the exact time and location of their births so she can calculate their rising signs.

Mom and Serena chatted for a while before she left with Lacey and Grayson and everything seemed to calm down after that. My mom was obviously having the time of her life, and it made me happy to see her in her element. But seriously, what was it with Lacey and Grayson? They didn’t seem like the type to come out and support
anyone
, much less my mom.

Celebrities should come with an instructional booklet.

HOMEWORK:

1.
  Finish world history study guide

2.
75 word essay answering the question:
¿Dónde está?

Later, 9:30pm—Pink Palm Motel

I turned on the TV to tune into
Project Runway
while I waited for Keller to call me, but
Entertainment Tonight
was on instead, and I thought I’d watch it for a few minutes to maybe gain some insight about this industry. I’ve always wondered how much truth is really in these celebrity gossip shows, so I was hoping they’d talk about Serena or Lacey to find out. But, lo and behold, the very first person they talked about was Grayson Frost.

“Sources say Grayson Frost has left Golden Chord Records, the label that first signed him, and switched to Shell Shocked Records in Los Angeles. The news comes as a major surprise, as Shell Shocked Records has, until recently, never carried a country music artist. Shell Shocked is also releasing its latest album,
Small Town Dreamer
, by its first signed country artist, Lacey Bennett. Is this the start of a new era for Shell Shocked Studios?”

I broke out in a cold sweat and ate a tub of chocolate ice cream by myself.

Later, 10:40pm—Pink Palm Motel

Great, now I have people messaging me on Facebook from Cedar Junction again about
US Weekly
. No one cared about me until I moved to LA and met Serena Salazar. Suddenly, I’m a hot commodity. I’m also being tagged in old class photos from elementary school so people can say they “knew me way back when.”

I can’t imagine how these people would react if they knew I recorded a CD that was going on sale soon, rather than just having my picture in a magazine.

February 27
^th
, 9:30am—Pink Palm Motel

It’s amazing how fast you can do things when you have a lot of money. Usually records take as much as a year to write, record, and produce. It feels like I only recorded the first track the other day, and the album drops
tomorrow.
It’s like Lacey appeared out of nowhere. Every TV channel and magazine manages to have an ad for
Small Town Dreamer
running.

Lacey (or Keller, for that matter) hasn’t called me since the party, and I thought I was in the clear and wouldn’t have to “assist” her with anything anymore. But of course, she called me earlier this morning.

“So, the studio is making me go to some charity event this afternoon, and I need you to come,” she said without bothering to say hello.

“Couldn’t you say you don’t want to go?” I ventured.

“Ugh, no. They think it’d be good publicity to do good for others or whatever. You need to come. You know about the less fortunate, don’t you? You’re from Iowa!”

I ignored the insult. I’ve learned I have to do that a lot with Lacey. I don’t think she realizes she’s insulting me half the time.

“Fine, but you need to pick me up.”

“Ugh, the motel again?” Lacey whined. “You need to get a real house, preferably one without roaches. And make sure it comes with a cute pool boy.”

“I know; I’ve been talking to my mom about it.”

Lacey sniffed. “Well, she obviously doesn’t get it. You should highlight some real estate listings and put them next to her morning latte or something.” Lacey covered the receiver suddenly and shouted something indecipherable. “Anyway, I gotta jet. I’ll pick you up in about an hour, and for the love of God,
please
wear something fashionable.”

Oh boy, Ivy has a choir concert tonight. She’s in remedial choir—the other ones are audition-only, and she can’t sing a single note in tune. Obviously her choir isn’t really going to sound good, and I was looking for an excuse to get out of it. Besides, I have to go out and show Lacey how to help the less fortunate, which seems totally reasonable to me.

THINGS TO DO:

1.
Highlight real estate listings.

2.
Call Grandma and Grandpa and let them know I’m not dead.

3.
HOMEWORK
. I’m starting to fall way behind.

4.
Think about some way to start being a better sister.

Later, 10:45am—In Lacey’s car

I’ve propped my purse up in front of my journal, and they haven’t seemed to notice I’m even writing in it, which is good. I can’t deal with questions or taunts about it right now. Lacey’s Town Car pulled up outside my motel room exactly one hour after she called, surprising me—I was sure she’d be the kind of girl who’s late to everything.

The door to the car swung open, and Lacey’s golden head popped out. “Hurry up, we’re running late. Is that a Diane Von Furstenberg?” she asked, gesturing to my dress.

“Um, yeah?”

Lacey nodded her head in what I took for approval. She made room for me in the car, and I climbed in, put my purse on the ground, and looked up into the familiar hazel eyes of Grayson Frost.

“Hey. It’s Holly, right?” he asked.

My hand flew to the door, and I was wondering if I’d break anything major if I tried to roll out of the moving vehicle, but the child locks were on.

“Yeah,” I mumbled. Lacey draped her legs across Grayson’s lap.

“Isn’t he the cutest?” she squealed before planting a big, sticky, lip-gloss kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her and didn’t even wipe the lip-gloss off! What is
up
with that boy?

“Grayson loves charity or whatever, so he thought he’d tag along,” Lacey rolled her eyes. I found that interesting. When I knew Grayson, he wasn’t a very charitable person.

It’s interesting to sit here and listen to Lacey and her team discuss the things they have going on. You wouldn’t really know so much goes into being a music star. Lacey’s publicist is talking about upcoming magazine articles and how to best respond to the bad ones. I don’t even know they got access to articles before they were published.

I don’t know how Lacey has time to
sleep
. Her assistant—Kayla or whatever her name is—said her schedule a few moments ago, and it doesn’t seem like it has room for bathroom breaks. After the event today, she has to go over to Christian Siriano and Givenchy for fittings, and then to Jimmy Kimmel and Conan for interviews. Tomorrow, she has to perform on
Ellen
, go to a Wal-Mart so she can be photographed buying her own album, and then fly over to New York to be on David Letterman. I think I’ll wear my PJs all day tomorrow. That sounds like a lot more fun. I’m sure there’s a
Criminal Minds
marathon on somewhere.

“I hope they have gift bags at this thing,” Lacey said.

I thought this was a charity event, not a birthday party. How charitable can it be if they spend hundreds of dollars on designer gift bags? That’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve heard. Although, if they have any extras, I wouldn’t be opposed to getting one. I’ll donate the bag to my sister; that’s charitable enough.

“Gift bags at charity events are ridiculous,” Grayson chimed in, almost as if he’d read my mind. It was creepy, actually, and strangely human-sounding of him. Especially since I’m pretty sure he’s some music robot who’s programmed to be rude and look way too attractive.

“It’s not, silly; it helps me feel like it wasn’t a big waste of time,” Lacey retorted.

Grayson rolled his eyes quite dramatically. “This is a charity event with the McGregor Foundation,” he said seriously.

Lacey wrinkled her perfectly waxed brows. “What, is that like a designer?”

Grayson sighed. “It’s a charity group for abused and orphaned children, Lacey.”

Lacey’s face darkened, and she glared at her mom. “No one told me that.”

“What difference does it make?” Grayson seemed a little miffed, and I didn’t blame him. Lacey started acting weird about the whole event once she knew what it was for. Grayson peered out the window. “We’re here. You better put a smile on,” his voice was sharp and he shoved her legs off of his lap. Uh-oh. Looks like there might be trouble in paradise.

Oh. I guess I have to get out of the car now, and I can’t write while walking.

Later, 4:47pm—Pink Palm Motel

Well, that was…interesting. When we got out of the car, what I could best describe as “celebrity handlers” met us immediately.

“Mr. Frost and Ms. Bennett!” A redhead wearing knee-high leather boots with tassels greeted us—and by “us,” I mean everyone but me. She had a clipboard in her hand and was frantically scribbling on it, even though she never once broke eye contact with Lacey or Grayson. “We’re so happy to have you here. Ms. Bennett, you’ll be performing in about half an hour, so if you head backstage, our hair and makeup crew will take care of you. Mr. Frost, if you could follow me, I’ll make sure we get you to where you need to be.”

My mouth went dry. Lacey was
performing
? I was
SO
worried—I wasn’t sure how fake it’d look. Everyone went off in their various directions, and just when I thought I’d been abandoned, Lacey turned over her shoulder and impatiently waved at me to follow her.

We walked into the backstage area of an outdoor stage and into a sea of chaos. Victoria Beckham, Cee Lo Green, and Carrie Underwood actually walked past me! It took some self-control not to follow them and ask for their autographs, to be honest. I guess I’m going to have to get used to being around famous people. They all look a lot shorter in person.

As usual, there were racks of clothes everywhere. I wanted to look through them, but I doubted they’d let me. I’m getting more and more interested in clothes now that I’ve started living here and spending time with Serena.

“Lacey.” I pulled her aside. “How are you going to do this and, like, get away with it?”

“What do you mean?” Lacey asked as she took a long drink of bottled water.

“Won’t the sound guys notice there’s nothing coming through your microphone?”

Lacey laughed. “Do you actually think I’m the only singer who lip-synchs? Please, people do it all of the time. They just have no idea about my…special circumstances.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised.

Kayla rushed up, chatting away on her Bluetooth with her iPad in her hand. “Let me put you on hold,” she said to the person on the other line and pressed a button on the Bluetooth. “Lacey, after you perform they want you to go and do a meet-and-greet with the kids.”

Lacey’s brow furrowed and that dark look passed over her again. “I’d rather not,” she said through her perfectly white teeth.

Kayla pressed a couple of buttons on her iPad a little too hard. “You don’t have a choice. It’s kind of the point of being here in the first place; we need to get some photos of you with these kids. It’s great publicity.”

Lacey squeezed her water bottle, and the plastic crinkled loudly. “Fine, but please don’t send me to this kind of thing anymore.”

“What, you mean no charity events?” Kayla looked confused, as was I. Lacey was being weird about the whole thing.

“Nothing with kids,” Lacey said firmly.

“Okay.” Kayla typed something into her iPad. “I’ll tell Sabrina and make sure she doesn’t book you for anything like this again.”

“Do you not like kids?” I asked Lacey as Kayla walked away.

She took another big sip of her water. “Not exactly. I just hate these kinds of things.”

“Oh.” I looked sideways at her. “So what do you like?”

Lacey pursed her lips. “Clothes and shopping.” She paused for a moment. “And crocheting,” she added as an afterthought.

“I knitted an oven mitt once,” I said.

Lacey smiled. “Crocheting is better,” she replied, forever the one-upper.

“Lacey?” A woman wearing all black and a headset waved at her. “You’re on in two minutes.”

Lacey turned to me and flashed her million-dollar smile. “Wish me luck, Holls!” she chirped.

I couldn’t help but smile back. “I think ‘break a leg’ is the phrase.”