Sugar and Spice

LAUREN

CONRAD

Sugar and Spice AN L.A. CANDY NOVEL

This book is dedicated to Maura, Lo, Jillian, Natania, and Britton because they have always been there for me. I am honored to call them my very best friends.

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

1 NOT DATING

2 BEST FRIENDS

3 SECOND CHANCES … SECOND THOUGHTS

4 ARE YOU SERIOUS?

5 THE OPPOSITE OF A NOBODY

6 HISTORY

7 NOT JUST A FRIEND

8 YOU HAVE TO LIE TO PEOPLE IF IT’S FOR THEIR OWN GOOD

9 ARMPIT FALLS

10 SO WHO’S THE GUY?

11 BOYS

12 SOPHISTICATED TO SUPER-SLUTTY

13 BOY TROUBLE

14 DÉJÀ VU

15 THE TWO SISTERS

16 OR MAYBE YOU’RE JUST BEING DELUSIONAL, AS USUAL

17 THE PERFECT GUY

18 KIND OF THE TRUTH

19 SHE SAID, SHE SAID

20 GOSSIP FEST

21 THE OTHER TEAM’S PLAYBOOK

22 FAME AND FORTUNE

23 BIRTHDAY GIRL

24 TWO STEPS AHEAD

25 JUST US GIRLS

26 RELATIONSHIP PROBLEMS

27 THAT CRAZY, LOVESICK GIRL

28 THE CENTERPIECE OF L.A. CANDY

29 ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY, MADLY

30 WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS

31 SURVIVOR

32 HOW AWESOME WAS THAT?

33 REAL LIFE

34 BECOMING NOBODIES

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

BOOKS BY LAUREN CONRAD

D-LISH (GOSSIP YOU HATE TO LOVE)

Copyright

About the Publisher

1 NOT DATING

“Over here!”

“Let’s get a shot of the two of you!”

“Smile, girls!”

Jane Roberts felt hands on her shoulders—her publicist? random PopTV assistants?—maneuver her into place as several paparazzi shouted out to her and Scarlett Harp. Nearby, dozens of fans waved wildly, screamed the girls’ names, and snapped photos with their cell phones.

Scarlett bent her head toward Jane’s. “What are the rules on skipping the red carpet at your own premiere?”

“Ha-ha,” Jane said, grinning. “Think you’re gonna have a hard time getting out of this one, Scar.”

“I’m giving them five minutes, then heading inside for a drink. Something tells me I’m gonna need it tonight.”

“Good luck. I think we’re stuck here till, like, seven thirty. Besides, live television and booze aren’t the best combination. And I’m pretty sure the two drinks you had at dinner should tide you over.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Flashbulbs began popping brightly. Jane took a deep breath, fixed a smile on her face, and tried not to feel overwhelmed. Of course PopTV made sure the media was out in full force on the red carpet for L.A. Candy’s Season 2 premiere. Their little show had somehow become the top rated on the network, and a lot was riding on the premiere. The party would air live on PopTV, to be immediately followed by the episode itself.

Jane glanced over her shoulder at the sprawling lawn of the magnificent Spanish-style Hollywood Hills mansion. Hundreds of people were at this event: photographers, fans, and an assortment of entertainment industry types. On a makeshift stage near the infinity pool, pop star Aja was revving up to sing. There were TV cameras everywhere.

PopTV really knew how to throw a party!

“Scarlett, turn more to the left,” a photographer shouted.

“Stand closer together!” another one added.

Jane obeyed, never breaking her smile. After all, as one of the four main girls on L.A. Candy, tonight was work, not play (even though she had to act as though she was having fun).

But Scarlett wasn’t quite so understanding. “Good thing they’re here to tell me how to pose for a picture. I couldn’t have figured it out without them,” she muttered. She glared at a PopTV assistant who was coming toward her with a powder brush; the assistant backed off.

“Scar!” Jane whispered.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m trying my best.”

As the photographers continued shouting directions and taking pictures—why was it taking soooo long?—Jane kept her smile in place and resisted the impulse to touch her long, blond, wavy hair, which felt stiff and weird from the insane amount of hair spray the PopTV stylists had subjected it to. Nor was she totally comfortable in her black ruffle dress by a new designer named Mario Nuñez, which accentuated her five-foot-five, sort-of-in-shape figure nicely, but made her feel way older than her nineteen years. Nunez’s publicist had worked it out with Jane’s publicist: a free dress for Jane in exchange for publicity for Nuñez. (Jane could see the magazine caption now: “Jane Roberts rocks a Nuñez strapless at the L.A. Candy premiere!”)

Before famed producer Trevor Lord chose her to be on his new reality TV show, Jane had no idea that so many “spontaneous” celebrity photos (“Anna Payne stocks up on pumpkin soap at Lush!” “Jared Walsh hand-feeds sushi to Brazilian supermodel Catarina at Geisha House!”) were actually prearranged by publicists. Of course, before L.A. Candy, Jane had been clueless about what really went on in Hollywood. Now that she was a celebrity (although she still had a hard time thinking of herself that way), her life had completely changed. She and Scar were no longer the anonymous girls from Santa Barbara who moved to L.A. seven months ago, Jane to intern with a top event planner, and Scar to be a freshman at USC. Back then, the girls didn’t wear nine-hundred-dollar designer dresses that they didn’t have to pay for, and paparazzi didn’t try to record their every move.

“Gaby! Let’s get you in the picture, honey!” one of the publicists called out.

Gaby Garcia, the third L.A. Candy girl, waved to the photographers as she walked up to Jane and Scarlett. “Hey, have you been inside yet? There are soooo many hot guys here!” she gushed.

“Hey, Gaby,” Jane said. She liked Gaby, who could be a little spacey but was sweet and easy to hang out with. She looked pretty tonight in a pale mocha sequined slip dress.

Scarlett wrapped an arm around Gaby’s shoulders. The two of them had become fast friends in the last few months, which Jane thought was kind of funny, because they couldn’t be more different. “Hey, stranger. What’s new?”

“Not much. Oh, yeah, I got highlights!” Gaby patted her light brown updo and peered around. “Where’s Madison? Shouldn’t she be in the picture, too?”

Madison. Jane pretended to adjust her dress in an attempt to mask her reaction to Gaby’s comment. She couldn’t let the photographers—or anyone else—see her lose her cool. If she and Gaby and Scarlett were going to discuss Madison at all, it was better to do so “backstage” behind a locked bathroom door, not on the red carpet where every word and facial expression was being noted, recorded, scrutinized.

The fourth girl on the show, Madison Parker, was the last person Jane wanted to see tonight—or ever (although of course she was here, somewhere, so an encounter was inevitable). Three months ago, just before Christmas, Madison secretly leaked photos of Jane hooking up with her then-boyfriend Jesse’s best friend, Braden. When the story broke in Gossip magazine, Jane almost had a breakdown, and Madison pretended to be a good friend and came to her rescue, holding her hand through the entire painful, humiliating ordeal. Madison even let Jane move into her penthouse apartment after Jane and Scar had a big fight.

After she found out what Madison had done, Jane packed her bags and moved back in with Scar, full of apologies. That was on Valentine’s Day, five weeks ago, and Jane and Madison hadn’t spoken since. Jane had told Trevor in no uncertain terms that she would not film any scenes with Madison ever again. She still couldn’t believe she had fallen for Madison’s act, or that she had chosen a backstabber like Madison over Scar, who had been her best friend since kindergarten.

Scarlett squeezed Jane’s hand and turned to Gaby. “Madison’s probably getting an emergency Botox treatment,” she said, too low for anyone else to hear. “I guess her mom never told her that being a manipulative, lying bitch can cause wrinkles.”

“Funny,” Gaby said, giggling awkwardly. She was obviously uncomfortable poking fun at Madison. Gaby and Madison were close, or they used to be, anyway. Jane wasn’t sure where things stood between them these days. Jane wondered if Gaby felt weird being friends with Madison, even though Madison hadn’t done anything to her personally, because Gaby was friends with Jane and Scarlett, too, and maybe she was worried about seeming disloyal to one or the other side?

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw Dana, one of the PopTV producers, hurrying across the lawn toward them, clipboard in hand. The woman looked super-stressed, as usual. And she was dressed in all black again, except her outfit was more tailored and less faded than her standard attire. She had even put on makeup, which was saying a lot, considering that the most Jane had ever seen on her face were the remains of her morning muffin.

“Okay, everyone, thanks, but I need to talk to the girls,” Dana said loudly, ushering Jane, Scarlett, and Gaby toward the end of the press line and off the red carpet. “Listen up, ladies. In”—she squinted at her watch—”ten minutes, Alli’s going to take you over to the back terrace so you can get miked for the intro segment kicking off the party. There will be people to touch up your hair and makeup. As soon as we’re done shooting that, we’ll move you over to the statue garden for a segment leading into the first commercial break. And then … let’s see … Jane, I’m going to need you to do another segment, to introduce Aja. Everyone’s lines will be up on the teleprompters, so don’t worry about that.”

“Why can’t I introduce Aja? She’s, like, my favorite singer ever!” Gaby complained.

“That’s fine with me,” Jane offered.

Dana gave Gaby an impatient look. Gaby pouted and mumbled, “Okay, whateverrrrr.”

“Ten minutes, all right?” Dana reminded them. “Alli will … What, Ramon?” she barked into her headset. “What do you mean Hannah’s got the flu? Well, is she throwing up? We need her to—” Dana hurried away. Hannah Stratton, who worked with Jane at Fiona Chen Events, was on the show from time to time. She and Jane were good friends, on and off camera. Jane hoped she was okay.

“Sorry about Aja,” Jane apologized to Gaby, who simply shrugged and snatched a glass of champagne off someone’s tray.

Jane felt bad (especially since she was pretty sure that it was another guest’s partially consumed champagne Gaby had just taken from a busboy, not a waiter). Jane wished that Dana and Trevor wouldn’t treat her as the star of L.A. Candy, since the show was supposed to be about the everyday lives of all four girls, equally. In the beginning, Dana had explained to Jane that viewers seemed to relate to her the most. But why? Okay, so maybe Scar intimidated people by being so beautiful (without even trying) and rocket-scientist smart. And maybe Madison used way too much makeup and hair bleach for the average viewer. What about Gaby, though? Why wasn’t she relatable? She was nice, funny, cute, and had a cool job at a PR firm called Ruby Slipper.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you guys!” Gaby said suddenly. She handed her empty champagne glass to a random party guest, who glared at her, and fished through her black beaded clutch. “Here,” she said, holding out a business card. “This woman came up to me before. She said she’s a publicist, and she wants to talk about repping me.”

Scarlett took the card from Gaby, and she and Jane studied it. It read, ANNABELLE WEISS, followed by an address on La Cienega Boulevard and some other contact info.

“She sounds—” Jane began.

“Sketchy,” Scarlett finished.

Jane made a face. “Scar! I was about to say great. I love, love, love my publicist! Gaby, you should have one, too. So should you, Scar.”

“Why, so I can get into more trashy tabloids, talking about my cayenne-pepper-and-celery-juice diet?” Scarlett said.

“You mean your Chinese-takeout-and-pizza diet?” Jane teased her. “Seriously, Sam totally turned my image around after … you know …” She hesitated, not wanting to say the words “Gossip scandal” out loud. The subject still pained her. “She got a lot of really good articles about me in the magazines,” she went on. “And she, uh, talked to all the reporters about me and Jesse so I didn’t have to.” Actually, she didn’t feel much like saying the word “Jesse” out loud, either.

“You mean when he started getting wasted all the time and hooking up with other girls?” Gaby said. Gaby was like that—no filter. She wasn’t trying to be mean; she just blurted out whatever she was thinking, without thinking.

Scarlett ignored Gaby’s comment and motioned to Jane, indicating that she look behind her. Caleb! Her high school boyfriend had made it to the party.

“Come on, Garcia. Let’s go check out the hors d’oeuvres,” Scarlett said, shrugging and smiling at Jane as she led Gaby toward one of the catering tables.

“Janie!”

Jane found herself face-to-face with Caleb. She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, not since she found out that he’d recently moved to L.A. He was as gorgeous as ever, especially in his dark red button-down shirt and jeans.

“Caleb! I’m glad you could come! Is Naveen here?” Jane had also invited Naveen Singh, another high school classmate and Caleb’s best friend.

“Naveen had to go to Boston for some family thing,” Caleb said with a smile. “God, it’s great to see you!”

Caleb started to give her a hug. Jane glanced around quickly, making sure they were alone. She didn’t need photographers catching her having a mini-reunion with her ex. Or worse, Trevor or one of the other producers, who would surely seize on Caleb as a potential TV “love interest” for Jane. She and Caleb had split up almost a year ago, and in any case, she was taking a break from boys. She didn’t need the drama after what she’d been through recently.

Since no one seemed to be paying attention, Jane let Caleb scoop her up in his arms, which felt unexpectedly warm and familiar. And strong—probably because he used to be on the swim team, and wasn’t he working in construction these days?

“You look amazing in that dress,” he whispered in her ear.

Jane blushed. “Thanks. I—”

Someone’s cell began buzzing. It took Jane a second to realize that it was hers. She wriggled out of Caleb’s embrace and peeked at the screen. BRADEN CALLING. Ohmi-god, Braden? Why was he calling her? He’d emailed her a couple of times after her breakup with Jesse, to check in on her, but that had been it.

She and Braden had always been friends, and at the same time way more than friends, although the timing had never worked out for them to actually date. But why was her heart racing so fast at the thought of hearing his voice?

“I, uh, have to get this,” Jane told Caleb. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“No worries. I can just hang out here and wait,” Caleb said.

Jane turned her back to him and hit Talk. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jane. It’s Braden.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“Well, I’m sitting here flipping through channels and seeing your face. They’re showing these commercials for your party tonight.”

“You mean the ‘teasers’?”

“Yeah, those. Sorry I couldn’t make it, by the way. I just wanted to call and, you know, wish you luck. Not that you need it. You look great, Jane. I mean it.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet. Thanks!”

Jane had invited Braden as a courtesy, knowing he would never come. He hated the Hollywood scene and didn’t want anything to do with L.A. Candy, refusing to sign a release to be on the show. Mostly, it was because being an aspiring actor and being on reality TV didn’t mix. Jane also suspected that he wanted to stay out of the media spotlight as much as possible after the Gossip nightmare.

“Is that your mom?” Caleb asked Jane. “If it is, tell her I said hi!”

Jane glanced up, startled. She hadn’t realized that Caleb was still standing there. Was this his immature way of trying to find out if it was a guy?

“Who was that?” Braden asked her.

“What? Oh, um, that’s Caleb,” Jane replied.

“Caleb? Who’s Caleb?”

Awkward. “He’s … um … an old friend.”

“Hey! Who are you calling an old ‘friend’?” Caleb teased her. “That one of your new boyfriends, Janie?”

“No!”

“No, what?” Braden said, sounding puzzled.

“I was just telling Caleb that you’re not one of my—oh, never mind.” Jane shook her head, silently praying for someone to come rescue her. This was insane, having a three-way conversation (sort of) with her old boyfriend (whom she used to be madly in love with) and her good friend (slash guy she had intense, complicated feelings about).

At that very moment, Jane spotted Alli coming down the tiki-torch-lit path, speaking into a walkie-talkie. “Sorry, Braden, but I’ve gotta run. I’ll call you later, okay?” Jane told him. “Alli!” she cried out, rushing over to her and giving her a quick hug. “I’m soooo glad to see you!”

Alli looked totally confused. “You are?”

“I am! You need me for something now, right?”

“Uh, right. I’m supposed to take you and the other girls over to the terrace for the opening segment, and—”

“Great! I’m ready!”

“So who’s Braden?” Caleb said, once again standing right behind her. “Is that that guy I read about in the magazines? Didn’t you and he—”

“I’ve gotta run, Caleb. I’ll see you later, okay?” Jane said. Then, before he could say another word, she turned to make her escape, trying not to trip on her black stiletto heels as she followed Alli down the path.

But what was she escaping, exactly? Two guys whom she used to like? Who used to like her? Who maybe still liked her, by the way they were acting? Or did guys always act like this, all possessive and territorial and she’s-mine-I-saw-her-first?

It was a very good thing she was not dating these days.

2 BEST FRIENDS

“Yeah, so Jane and I used to be best friends. It’s really sad,” Madison Parker explained to the umpteenth reporter.

Madison dabbed at her eyes for good effect, being careful not to mar her five-hundred-dollar makeup job. She’d tried out a new stylist for the season premiere party tonight—some of the biggest names in Hollywood used him—and he hadn’t disappointed. On the other side of the pool, which was filled with fragrant white gardenias and floating candles, a group of girls held up a sign that said, WE LOVE YOU MADYSON!!!!!!! in hot pink. Learn to spell, morons, she thought, annoyed.

The reporter from Gossip magazine—Tiffani?— nodded and scribbled in her tiny notebook. “So why do you think Jane moved out? And are we going to see that on tonight’s episode?”

“Shhh, that’s not till next week,” Madison stage–whispered, pretending to be letting Tiffani in on the biggest secret ever, even though she had told the same thing to five other reporters earlier. “I’ll tell you why Jane moved out. Everyone knows that she hooked up with her boyfriend Jesse’s best friend, Braden, back in December, and that Jesse found out, right? Well, Jane got this insane idea that I told Jesse about it.”

Tiffani looked puzzled. “But didn’t Jesse find out from our magazine when the pictures—”

“All I know is, Jane blames me,” Madison cut in. “It’s crazy. I would never do anything like that to her. I loved her like a sister. I still do.”

Tiffani nodded and scribbled some more.

This is soooo easy, Madison thought.

Things hadn’t looked very good for Madison last month, when Jane got hold of some emails proving that Madison had leaked those photos to Gossip. Any other girl might have given up, under the circumstances. But not Madison. She not only refused to confess or apologize to Jane … she decided to go on the offensive, talking to every reporter who would listen about her way-more-interesting version of events.

Madison studied her new set of dark purple acrylic nails. The nails on her right hand spelled LOVE! with tiny rhinestones; the nails on her left spelled FAME! “And that’s not all Jane did,” she said to Tiffani. “Jesse forgave her for hooking up with Braden, and they got back together right after New Year’s, right? But Jane was still obsessed with Braden. She was hanging out with him and having secret meet-ups, and that’s why Jesse dumped her again. And now she’s not speaking to me, like it’s my fault she cheated on her boyfriend.”

Tiffani whistled. “Wow, this is great stuff.”

Madison smiled smugly. “I know.” She didn’t tell Tiffani that she’d left out a few important details, like the fact that Jane and Braden only had one “secret meet-up”—a very public lunch at Barney Greengrass—or that Jane told Jesse about it herself, the same night.

Tiffani glanced up from her notepad. “Anything else?”

“I think that’s all. You’ll be the first to know if something else comes up,” Madison lied. “Soooo. When’s this story going to run?”

“Veronica told me to tell you she’s clearing space for this week’s edition. And if there’s a follow-up story, one of us may be calling you for quotes.”

“Awesome.”

Veronica Bliss, the editor in chief of Gossip, was really coming through for Madison lately. (Madison had spotted Veronica at the party earlier, having an intense-looking convo with Trevor. She had also spotted Veronica’s former assistant Diego—the rat who had dug up the incriminating emails against Madison—chatting up a publicist, presumably to get dish for his annoying new blog, D-Lish.) Veronica and Madison had had a long-standing arrangement: dirt on Jane in exchange for flattering pieces about Madison in the magazine. Madison had made that deal with Veronica last fall because she wasn’t enjoying anywhere near the fame she deserved. Back then, all anyone could talk about was Jane, Jane, Jane. Puke! Madison had been forced to help things along a bit by making sure the world knew what a pathetic mess their perfect, all-American princess really was.

And it was working. Trevor had already talked to Madison about giving her more airtime this season, which must mean that he planned to give Jane less. Madison was all over the media, too. Not only Gossip but the other major tabloids were clamoring to interview her—about the show and her rift with Jane, sure, but also about her opinions on fashion, her love life (she was careful not to mention her current, very married boyfriend, Derek), and more. It was a huge change from a few months ago, when she could barely get editors and reporters to return her calls.

As Tiffani wrote down some final notes, Madison fluffed her long, platinum blond hair and gazed out at her adoring fans. She assumed they were her fans, anyway; after all, Jane was old news, Scarlett was a complete freak, and Gaby was … well, she was about as interesting as last year’s diet fad.

A tall girl wearing a sorry-looking boyfriend shirt over leggings came running up to her. “Oh, there you are!” she said, panting. “I’ve been looking all over for you. You need to get over to the terrace, like, ASAP.”