At least he was coming, and he’d also drawn Joey and Luke into attending, which Bunny would be thrilled about. In a few years’ time Kristin hoped her sister would get with someone like Joey—a sweet, kind boy who would adore her, and who understood the pressures of the industry. It was why Scotty was such an ideal boyfriend. As well as being madly handsome and talented and sexy, he ‘got’ the craziness of both their lives. You couldn’t explain it to someone on the outside.
‘Are you excited?’ Kristin asked, in an attempt to rally spirits. Their mother had darted off and Bunny was looking crestfallen, patting her hair self-consciously.
‘Maybe I should wear the wig,’ she murmured, adolescent gaze brimming with uncertainty and a longing for approval. ‘Do you think I should? Mom says my hair’s limp…and I just want to look nice, you know?’ She bit her lip. ‘‘Specially if the boys are here…’
‘You’re beautiful as you are.’ Kristin pulled her close. ‘Enjoy it, don’t let her get to you.’ But Kristin suspected that she didn’t know the half of what Bunny had to endure over the beauty pageants. At least by the time Kristin was eight Ramona had spawned another child to focus on: poor Bunny had been in the firing line since the day she was born.
An hour later the party was in full swing. The marquee shone like a pearl in the fading light, bordered by the dark silhouettes of trees, bright as a unicorn coming to rest in a leafy glade. Twisting canopies strewn with fairy lights sparkled above the guests like stars, a fantasyland made real. Singers, actresses and TV stars sipped pink champagne and nibbled at miniature lobster wellingtons, while producers, moguls and managers smoked and drank brandy, posing for photographs with their rake-thin wives whose names no one remembered. The pool shone ultramarine, bordered by jasmine-scented flickering candles and next to which stood Ramona’s pièce de résistance: Bunny’s birthday cake. It was a fourteen-tiered monster, studded with gold flakes and silver orbs and capped with a life-size moulding of Bunny’s very own head, her golden icing ringlets tumbling down the flanks. The head was wearing a glistening crown, which read, a touch prematurely:
MINI MISS MARVELLOUS—WINNER!
‘Bitchin’, huh?’
Kristin turned. She was relieved to be extricated from a stilted conversation with a French rap star and even more relieved when she came face to face with Joey Lombardi.
‘Hey!’ She hugged him. Joey was Italian-American with black, curly hair and twinkling brown eyes. As one fifth of Fraternity, he was easily second favourite to Scotty; girls went crazy for him. Up close he smelled of lemon sherbet. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Better now I’ve seen that.’ Joey raised an eyebrow at the cake. ‘It’s truly a thing of wonder. Did your mother make it?’
Kristin grinned. One of the things she liked best about Joey was his sense of humour.
‘If it was Bunny’s actual head on top then I might consider that a serious question,’ she said.
He laughed.
‘Where’s Scotty?’ she asked, searching over his shoulder.
Joey ran a hand through his unruly hair. Kristin remembered when Scotty had wanted to leave his to its natural wave (he straightened it) and the label had told him he couldn’t because curls were ‘Joey’s thing’. ‘Beats me,’ said Joey. ‘I haven’t seen him.’
Kristin spied Luke talking to a circle of Hollywood socialites, her mother hovering on its periphery and plunging into their conversation every so often like a wasp on food, rooting about a bit before buzzing off. Wouldn’t the boys have arrived together?
She checked the time. ‘He said he’d be here by now. You haven’t heard from him?’
Joey shrugged. ‘Nah, sorry. Can I get you a drink?’
Kristin was worried. ‘What if something’s happened?’
‘Like what?’
‘Maybe he’s crashed the Lexus.’
Joey touched her arm. ‘He’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘Scott knows what he’s doing. He probably got held up someplace; it wouldn’t be the first time.’
‘Oh?’ She was surprised. Scotty had always been punctual with her.
‘Sure,’ Joey replied easily. ‘He’s drifted behind schedule on a few things recently. Said he’s tired. It’s nothing to write home about.’
A vague sort of dread clutched Kristin’s heart.
‘I think I’ll call him,’ she said. ‘Thanks.’
Inside, she closed the door to Ramona’s office and dialled Scotty. It rang and rang but there was no answer. She tried again, then once more. Nothing.
Kristin tapped the phone against her jaw. Scotty had said he’d be here, and he’d never let her or Bunny down. Something must have come up and he had forgotten to let her know, that was all, nothing to get alarmed over, just as Joey had said. And yet…
Emerging into the hall, she heard a ripple of giggles coming from the kitchen and instinctively backed up. Moments later, Luke came into frame and swaggered out on to the swarming patio, bottle of beer in hand, his hair dishevelled at the back. Kristin went to follow him out and almost ran straight into her mother.
‘Mom?’
Ramona’s lipstick was smudged. The top buttons of her silk blouse had been done up incorrectly. It took less than a second to work out what was going on.
‘Are you insane?’ Kristin cried, outraged. ‘He’s twenty!’
Ramona smirked. ‘So?’
‘He’s Scotty’s friend! He’s my friend!’
Ramona patted her chignon. ‘Well, then I suppose I’m his friend now, too.’
‘How long?’ Kristin whispered.
Her mother smiled coyly. Drunkenly she arched an eyebrow. ‘Long enough,’ she growled, and she actually put her tongue in her cheek. Ew! It was beyond gruesome!
‘I meant how long has it been going on?’
Ramona sighed with exasperation. ‘Oh, darling, relax!’ she sang, wafting out to play the hostess. ‘I am a hot-blooded woman, you know. What does it matter?’
Kristin was rigid with fury. It mattered a lot. Not because her mom was old and Luke was barely clear of being a teenager, not because her dislike for her mom sometimes bordered on hatred, but because Luke and Fraternity were her thing. She’d been made to share it all with her mother; from the earliest point, nothing had been hers, every move had been down to Ramona. Except for this. The boys were hers. How dare she steal this, as well?
‘I’m leaving.’ Kristin had to get away. She couldn’t stand this house any more. She couldn’t bear to look her mother in the eye. ‘Tell Bunny I’ll be back later.’
‘Where are you going?’ Ramona commanded. ‘We need you for the ETV shoot!’
‘Fuck the shoot.’ She hauled open the door. ‘Bunny doesn’t want to do it anyway.’
‘Kristin! You come back here this instant!’
The door slammed behind her. There was only one place she wanted to be, only one person who could make her feel better.
If Scotty wouldn’t come to her then she would go to him.
16
Scotty Valentine rolled over, straight into the loving arms of his manager, Fenton Fear. Fenton’s chest hair nuzzled his cheek and gently he kissed the older man’s collarbone.
Bliss. It was heaven to have Fenton in his apartment, his home…his bed. It had never