Trevor shrugged. “You wanted to be the star of The Fame Game, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Well, guess what? The star has to be surprised.” He ambled toward his desk, that infuriating, mild smile still on his face. As if he had not a care in the world, he sank slowly into his chair and looked up at Madison. “Surprise,” he said.
Madison turned toward the window that overlooked Santa Monica. She felt the anger begin to deflate in her chest. Why did he always have to be right about these things? “You did this to Jane,” Madison said, shaking her head. “Of course.” And, ironically (and oh-so-fittingly), many of the surprises that Jane Roberts had faced were those that Madison herself helped create. How was that for karma?
“Makes for great ratings,” Trevor said. “I don’t have to tell you that, Madison. We don’t even have the footage back, but I know already that this episode—with you and your long-lost dad—will be one of our biggest. This story arc . . . Well, I couldn’t have written it better.” He pressed his fingers together under his chin, looking very pleased with himself.
But this is my life, Madison wanted to say. It’s more than just a story arc to me!
“This is how these shows work,” Trevor went on, his voice smooth and oily. “It’s a foolproof format. Find one seemingly sane girl and surround her with a whole lot of crazy. You want to be the star? You have to be the victim, too. Look, you’ve had a great year. You rebounded from the L.A. Candy finale. And, lawsuit aside, Madison’s Makeovers was a success. You’ve got thousands of fans, Madison. And they don’t just love to hate you anymore. They actually love you. Take advantage of that.”
Madison closed her eyes. Take advantage of it? Trevor wanted her to use her ugly past to create her perfect future. Was that even possible?
“Look,” Trevor said. He got up again and came over to place his arm on Madison’s shoulder. “You just worry about looking good. Let me worry about the story lines. I promised you’d come out on top, didn’t I?”
Madison nodded. The rage that she’d felt had disappeared, and now all that was left was confusion. And sadness.
“Well, do you trust me or not?” He gave her a little squeeze.
Without meaning to, Madison flinched. Knowing Trevor as well as she did, she could answer that question with two words: Definitely not.
“What about these?” Madison asked, thrusting a pair of slim, indigo jeans in Kate’s direction. “These are J Brand.”
They were in American Rag, the first stop on their scheduled shopping spree, which Kate now knew was also step one in a Kate makeover plotline, although that wasn’t exactly how the day was panning out. The cameras had filmed Madison modeling a spangly frock and a pair of Rochas leopard-spotted mules, then a silky Chloé jumpsuit with strappy gold sandals. According to Laurel’s texts, it was time for Kate to do a little shopping herself.
IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR MAKEOVER, REMEMBER? Laurel had written. HAVE SOME FUN.
Kate took a few steps closer to inspect the jeans. The wash was so dark it was almost black. She touched the seam lightly, then saw the price tag. “Oh my God,” she said. “They’re like two hundred dollars.”
“I know! They’re a steal!” Madison repeated, brushing a golden lock of hair from her face impatiently.
“But they’re just jeans,” Kate said.
Madison barked out a laugh. “You’re so funny, Kate.”
“I don’t see what’s so funny about that,” she said, turning to look at a pretty printed blouse. The price tag on it was a mere $135. A bargain!
Madison came around the rack of clothes and snatched the blouse away from Kate. “No prints,” she said firmly. “Not yet. We’re going to start with the classics, but updated, with a twist.”
“You sound like Lucky magazine.”
“Mmmm,” Madison replied. She was distracted, thumbing through the racks of shirts and skirts. “I actually consider leopard print to be a neutral,” she mused, more to herself than Kate. “And you’re supposed to be sort of a rocker. . . .”
Kate hadn’t ever thought of herself as a rocker, that was for sure. But she didn’t protest. She took a long, fuzzy sweater off the rack and held it up. It was cream-colored and impossibly soft, and Kate could imagine curling up in it on her couch. She pressed it to her cheek. It felt like a teddy bear.
“Gaaah,” cried Madison, snatching it away. “What is this? A Snuggie?” She tossed it onto the padded daybed in the corner of the shop.
“But it’s a neutral,” Kate pointed out.
“It looks like a potato sack,” Madison said. “You’re not buying it.”
“Okay,” Kate said meekly. She decided not to touch anything else. She’d just let Madison, who was clearly the expert, handle the selections.
She was actually kind of enjoying herself, though. She was drinking a delicious chai latte, it was a lovely July day, and she was relaxed from the pedicure they’d gotten before the shopping began in earnest. Madison was being bossy, but in a helpful way, and frankly it was about time someone got Kate to shop somewhere besides the Gap. If Trevor thought the world would want to see a nice Midwestern girl go Hollywood fashionista, well, she was reasonably happy to oblige him.
“Just get me stuff that I can wash,” she called to Madison. “I don’t want to have to deal with dry cleaners.”
Madison looked up over the racks of clothes just long enough to roll her eyes.
Kate snickered. No one would ever accuse Madison of not having an opinion.
As Kate watched her castmate amass an armload of clothing for her to try on, she wondered if Madison was being nice because she felt like it or because she was supposed to, for a story line. Could her friendliness be genuine? Carmen would argue no. But Madison hadn’t been getting texts from Laurel, as far as Kate could see, telling her to pretend like she cared about someone besides herself. (Meanwhile Kate was getting them with embarrassing regularity: SMILE! And CAN YOU LOOK LESS BORED? And PULL HAIR AWAY FROM FACE.)
She’d surreptitiously glanced over at Laurel, who grinned and gave her a thumbs-up sign. Kate liked Laurel. And even more than that, she liked feeling that she had an ally behind those big black cameras.
Madison pranced over and thrust a silky navy sweater, skinny jeans, a gold belt, and a pair of dove-gray ankle boots at Kate. “Here,” she said. “Try these first.”
Obediently Kate rose and slipped into the dressing room. She pulled on the various pieces of the outfit and twisted her hair up in a loose knot to avoid any future blocking issues. When she pulled back the curtain and stepped out of the little room, Madison clapped her hands gleefully.
“Look at you! I wouldn’t recognize you. Skinnies and some booties and oh my God, it’s like you’re all grown up all of a sudden.” Madison looked pleased with herself.
Kate turned toward herself in the mirror and saw that Madison was right: She looked strikingly different. Sophisticated. Polished. Pretty. “Wow,” she said. “I feel like Carmen or something.”
Madison sniffed. “You’re much prettier than Carmen. It’s just that she knows how to maximize her assets, and you don’t. Not yet. But I’m going to teach you.” She held out another outfit. “Now try this one.”