Star Power (26 page)

Emily's heart beat rapidly as she watched Coco finish a spectacular performance. Coco had been totally fearless, like she was singing in front of just the Inner Circle—and Emily hoped she could do the same. She was seconds away from re-shooting the kissing scene, and her heart was pounding with nervous energy.

In the script, she and Davey were supposed to get caught smooching by the stadium camera, which would broadcast their kiss on huge screens above their heads, just like at a basketball game. Emily gulped. If she failed, there would literally be thousands of witnesses. She took the last Wintergreen Altoid from the box and chewed anxiously.

Emily glanced over at her costar. Davey wore an ankle-length flowery dress that looked like it had been borrowed from the wardrobe of
Kit Kittredge: An American Girl
. It had a floppy white lace collar and covered his arms all the way down to his wrists. And yet, even in a
ridiculous
getup, Davey Farris Woodward
still
looked adorable. She chuckled to herself. Most girls in America would do anything to kiss Davey, and here she was getting paid to do it. And she had been
thisclose
to giving it all up.

“Last looks!” Shane boomed. It was time for their close-up.

Tina dabbed bronzer on Emily's face, and Robyn ran a comb through her hair.

Soon the crew swooped around her and Davey, and the boom mic was in position. Davey turned to Emily and smiled warmly. “Break a leg,” he said. Even though they'd sat side by side for Coco's performance, they had not actually said a word to each other since Mac's party.

“Thanks.” Emily nodded, grateful for the effort. As their eyes locked, she tried to read his facial expression, but it was neutral. Was he wishing he was kissing Mac? Was he thinking what a lunatic she had been at the party? Emily clenched her fists, stopping herself. This wasn't about Davey. It was about getting to live her dreams. It was about making herself proud. Instead of thinking about all the things that could go wrong with her very-public kiss, Emily remembered all the reasons why she wanted it to go right. She didn't move from Iowa and leave her best friend and mom behind just to spend her time thinking about a boy. She'd moved to L.A. to be a movie star. Emily summoned her courage, and inched closer to her costar.
Everybody loves confidence,
she reminded herself.

Shane removed his fedora to wipe his head with a handkerchief. Without his hat, his head was shaped like a giant egg. “You ready?” he called through his megaphone.

Emily nodded confidently.

“And,
action!
” Shane barked through the loudspeaker.

Davey snapped into his character mode and faced Emily. “Look, Kelly, there's something I need to tell you—” he began.

Emily put her index finger on his lips to shush him. “It's okay, Tiff . . . Or should I say,
Tom
. I already know.”

“How did you know?” Davey-as-Tom stammered.

“That day on the rugby field.” Emily smiled in character, but for once, the real Emily was having a great time.

“Oh man, I'm so sorry—” Davey put his hands on his face as if to hide.

And seeing him so cute and vulnerable in a dress, Emily surprised even herself: She threw her hands on his square shoulders and gave him a soft kiss, right on the mouth.

Once their lips touched, Emily wasn't sure what else to do. The only thing she knew about kissing was that you were supposed to keep your eyes closed. She'd practiced in her bedroom on a pillow, but Egyptian cotton hadn't prepared her for this moment. She just pressed her lips against his in a very PG-rated, very minty-fresh moment. It wasn't fun or gross; it was warm and soft. In the back of her mind, she hoped Mac saw and was a tiny bit jealous.

Seconds later, Emily pulled back and opened her eyes.

“Wow,” Davey said, his head tilted in surprise. “I didn't see that coming.”

Of course he hadn't. In the script
he
was supposed to kiss
her
. Emily shrugged. “I like you,” she said truthfully. She meant it as her character Kelly
and
as Emily. And then, realizing she'd just kissed a boy in a flowing dress in front of thousands of strangers, Emily felt a wave of giddiness wash over her. She tried not to laugh, but suddenly all the tension of the past two weeks made her erupt in laughter. And she couldn't stop. “You're wearing a dress!”

Davey glanced down at his outfit and soon he couldn't stop laughing, either.

They giggled for several seconds before Shane finally yelled, “CUT!” Shane leapt off the stage and ran toward the two stars.

Emily expected Shane to whip off his fedora and tear his hair out. She had gone completely off script, kissing Davey instead of letting him kiss her, she'd added lines that weren't there, and she still couldn't stop giggling.

To her surprise, Shane threw an arm around her shoulder. “Wham-o! You nailed it, Iowa!” Emily beamed. She'd just wanted to get through the scene, but this praise was icing on the cake. Especially considering how badly she'd screwed up the last time.

Smiling hugely, Emily spotted Chris, standing shyly by the crew. When their eyes met, he slowly clapped his hands together. Emily waved him over.

When Chris was close, she turned to Shane. “You have to meet my friend Chris Miller. He's been a star P.A., and he's saved my life so many times.”

Shane looked at Chris as though he had never seen the boy in his life. “Well, Chris, we have to be sure to get you a good job on my next movie.”

Chris puffed out his chest and extended his long skinny forearm to Shane. “That would be rad, sir!”

Shane turned to Giselle. “Make a note to hook up our friend Chris next time, OK?” Giselle nodded and typed something into her BlackBerry.

Emily and Chris shared a big smile right as Coco and Becks bounded over to hug her.

“You rocked!” Coco squealed. She was still dressed in her sparkly getup from her performance, her face aglow.

“That was huuuuge!” Becks cried, throwing her arms around Emily to wrap her up in a big hug.

Emily grinned, grateful they were there to support her. She took a step back from Becks's arms and studied the crowd, which was filtering out of the stadium. Emily spotted Kimmie waving at her, and she waved back enthusiastically. She spotted Elliot Tachman and Cardammon, and then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mac walking toward her, shyly. Mac seemed concerned, like she had something to say. Becks and Coco shared an uncomfortable glance, and took a few steps back so Emily and Mac could be alone.

Mac took a deep breath. “I'm really sorry I kissed Davey. I was kind of crushing on him, and I got carried away. But I honestly never set out to do that.” She toyed with the gold chain around her neck and stared at the floor.

Emily nodded. She knew Mac was telling the truth. And yet a million questions swirled through her head: Had Mac always liked Davey, or did she only want him because Emily wanted him? If Emily hadn't caught them at the party, would they have kept kissing? And could she really be Mac's friend again, and live in Mac's house, knowing that Mac and Davey liked each other?

“I'll never talk to him again, if you want,” Mac added, her blue eyes serious. “If I had to choose between you and Davey, I'd pick you in a heartbeat. Every time.”

Again, Emily knew Mac was telling the truth. And the fact that she'd never see Davey again . . . it didn't totally make up for the lying. But it was a start.

Emily glanced over at Davey, who was talking to Shane, his dimpled face looking more adorable than ever. She thought back to all the hours of her life she'd spent dreaming about Davey Farris Woodward. All the posters on her wall back at home, all the time logged on his fan club website, all the late-night conversations with Paige about what it would be like to be his girlfriend. It had been fun, and it had meant something to her then. But now she realized: it didn't matter. Sure, it was a wonderful crush—in her head—but she didn't even
know
him. She hadn't known him then, and even after working with him, even after
kissing
him, she didn't really know him now.

The realization shot through her like she'd just chugged one of Mac's Red Bulls and Emily took a deep breath. Suddenly, she felt free. From her childhood crush, and from all the craziness that had come with it, ever since she set foot in Hollywood. She didn't regret her Daveymania—after all, it was what had led her to that premiere party in the first place. Her crush had started this all, and it had brought her to Mac. But it had served its purpose, and now it was in the past.

“It's okay,” Emily said finally. “You don't have to do that. I'm over Davey.” As soon as the words escaped her lips, she knew she meant them.

“You are?” Mac asked tentatively. The worried yet hopeful look on her face said it all: she thought it was too good to be true.

“Yup,” Emily said, more confidently this time. “And I'm not mad that you liked him. I just wish you'd told me. But I'm willing to give you another chance.” Of course Mac wasn't perfect—she just needed to admit that a little more often.

Mac beamed, relieved. “So does this mean I can still be your agent?”

“Yeah,” Emily nodded, a smile slinking across her face, “as long as I can still be your friend.”

Becks and Coco tiptoed back. “Looks like the Inner Circle is back on track.” Coco grinned, putting an arm around Mac and Emily.

“Good cause I hate not seeing your updates on my phone!” Becks cried, waving her iPhone joyfully in the air.

“Ladies,” Mac said, snapping back into alpha-mode. “Not only are we back, but this is only the beginning.”

Emily smiled. She thought about how far she had come since Mac's pop quiz on her first day. Although Mac was usually right, sometimes she wasn't: You didn't know you belonged in Hollywood when someone was stabbing you in the back.

You knew you belonged in Hollywood when your best friends were right there with you.

T
hanks to the talented trifecta: Joelle Hobeika, Sara Shandler, and Josh Bank. It's been a great ride! I'd also like to thank Ben Schrank, Lexa Hillyer, and Jessica Rothenberg for their wonderful guidance. I'm grateful to Kristin Marang and Andrea C. Uva for their style savvy. Special thanks to Joanna Schochet for reading this many times beyond the call of friendship, Colleen Shaw for her impeccable taste and funny, Abby Stern for her exquisite LA eye, and Ruby Boyd for her smart insights about life and junior high. I'm very grateful to Tracey Nyberg and Jacqueline Regts for their production expertise; and Rachel K. Scott and Stephanie Jacobs for being neighbors extraordinaire. Thanks to Larry Decker for his encouragement and camera angles. And last but not least, thanks to my English teachers, who taught me I could write: Sharon Jones, Joe Kelly, and Gregory Rhodes.

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