Twenty-Seven

Nat’s embrace would impress even a polar bear. The only reason Emme didn’t tip over like a bowling pin was that Nat had her arms around her. Sienna and I looked on, shocked, as Aubrey tried to pry Nat’s hand off Emme. “Ma’am, please remove your hands from Ms. Abrams’s midsection,” he said.

“No, it’s okay,” Nat said. “I know her.”

Though Emme may have lost her balance, she kept her wits. “Yes, of course, you’re Nat.”

She put her own arms around Nat—completing what had to be the most awkward hug in the history of time. As she did, she glanced at me over Nat’s back and I knew I’d be paying for this by spending serious time helping her out on FarmVille.

“Thank you for meeting about the project.” Emme sounded just like Toni. Besides being acronym-free, Toni’s voice had no traces of a Valley accent thanks to a voice coach.

Nat took the chair closest to Emme, which had been my seat. Since I didn’t feel now was a good time to bring that up, I sat between Sienna and Aubrey. I texted Sienna as the waiter came over to take our order: She’s not acting very killer-like.

I heard a buzz and Sienna pulled out her phone as the waiter went over house specials as if he’d been practicing for this moment since he was a toddler. He spoke as if telling us about his life, not about chicken sauce. Unemployed actor no doubt. By the time he’d gotten to the climax—the final special of the night—I’d gotten Sienna’s return text. The good ones never do! That’s what lets them kill people!!!!

Touché. The waiter moved to the wine list. “May I suggest the Giaconda Chardonnay?” I snuck a peek at the menu. It was $150 a bottle. “It’s an Australian wine aged underground. Intense, but also very light.”

Intense or not, no way I could afford that. Aubrey, Sienna, and Emme knew that. Nat, however, didn’t. “That sounds great.”

Dangit. I forced myself to look on the bright side. At least that meant she’d be liquored up. The waiter waltzed off after swearing he’d come back for our food orders. At this rate, the only thing I could afford was ice, though they probably also charged for that.

My best bet was to get Nat out of there as quick as possible. I dove in, figuring I’d warm her up by starting off slow, then hitting her with the harder questions once the alcohol set in.

“You know we’re pitching a story about Haley to Paramount tomorrow. We see this as a story not just about her death, but also about her life. Sort of a metaphor for every beautiful blonde who has come to Hollywood with nothing but a dollar and a dream.”

Nat nodded, as impressed with my BS as I was. I was about to continue when she raised her hand like this was the third grade.

“You have a question?” I asked.

“Yeah.” She turned to Emme. “How long did it take Marc Jacobs to design your Oscar gown?”

I would have preferred if she’d asked to go to the nurse’s office. I doubted Emme even knew the answer. I jumped in. “So what would you like for us to know about Haley?”

I was straight-up ignored. “Did you have to go to his studio for fittings?”

Nat was relentless. I was about to interrupt again when Emme spoke up. “He flew out here. It took him about two months to finalize the design. Fittings were at my house, though his studio is beautiful.”

She sounded sure of herself. But was she accurate? Apparently so, because Nat smiled. “Marc Jacobs came to your house? I would have died!”

Emme smiled at Nat. “How long did you and Haley know each other?”

“Not that long. So did you tell him exactly what you wanted or did he show you his ideas?”

No way could Emme answer that. I prepared for the worst. “It’s actually based on my grandmother’s wedding dress,” Emme said.

Even I didn’t know that. The waiter arrived with the Chardonnay, which was a good thing because I suddenly needed a drink. He made a big production of pouring everyone’s glasses, making it once again look like he was performing on Broadway. I lifted my glass. My very, very, very expensive glass. “A toast,” I said, as the rest of the table joined in. “To Haley.”

Sienna and I made sure to make eye contact when we clinked glasses. Neither of us wanted seven years of bad sex. Everyone else obviously wasn’t as concerned, judging by the lack of eye contact from Nat, Emme, and Aubrey. After we finished toasting, I took a sip.

It was good, but then for 150 bucks, it darn well should’ve been. On my second sip, I realized Nat had put her drink down without even tasting it and cracked open the bottle of Evian. Add thirty dollars to my tab. Great. “Saving your wine for dinner?” I asked.

“I don’t drink.” She couldn’t have told me that before she ordered the wine? I was not a happy camper.

“Come on, all the cool kids are doing it. We’re gonna jump off a cliff next.” I laughed at my own corny joke. “Just have a sip. You might like it. It’s really good.”

She spoke again. “I would, but my sponsor would kill me.” Cómo se what? Nat was in AA? Eek. There went that plan. She turned to Emme. “I was at Betty Ford the exact same time as Amanda Bynes!”

Only in Hollywood is rehab something to brag about. The moment was ridiculously awkward. Sienna tried to lighten it. “Well, at least we have a designated driver.”

“Definitely!” Nat said. “As long as it’s not stick.”

We were saved by the waiter. “Ready for your food orders?”

I wish I could say the rest of the dinner flew by, but it was the longest sixty minutes of my life. Nat ordered a fifty-five dollar salad, took a photo of it for Instagram, and then just picked at it.

Emme, Aubrey, Sienna, and I all brought up Haley several times, but Nat was more interested in Toni. I split my time trying to conjure up a question she’d actually answer and adding up the bill. I met trouble on both counts. The lone bright spot was when Nat accepted our invite to hang at Toni’s afterward. It was a good thing, too, because the “discovery” of the robbery was now more important than ever.

When the bill came—hidden in a leatherbound holder—Aubrey reached for it. Perhaps he took pity on how bad things were going for me. I scooped it up before he had the chance but I couldn’t open it, as scared as if I might find Freddy Krueger hiding behind the leather flap.

I was so busy willing the unseen check to shrink like a man’s privates in nine-degree weather that I didn’t notice the commotion at the door. Sienna practically kicked my leg off under the table. ­I looked up to see Toni’s ex, Luke Cruz, coming in with his arm casually around some wisp of a model I’d seen on a magazine cover during my last late-night candy run.

He knew Toni better than anyone who hadn’t shared a womb with her for nine months. He did a double take when he saw Emme and headed over, aware that every eye was on him. It felt like slow motion. The only things missing were a soundtrack and the sound of a guy two seats down loudly chomping on popcorn.

I was tempted to throw the wine bottle at him and scream, “Run!” The only thing that stopped me was it cost too much. He stopped a few feet away and gave Emme a once-over. “Not a lot of gyms in Antarctica, huh?”

He bent down for a quick peck, going for Emme’s mouth. She recoiled and he settled for her cheek. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back to town, Toni.”

“That’s because we broke up.”

He smiled as if this were some game only he was playing. “I have about twenty sexts from last night that say differently.”

Emme’s eyes narrowed. Toni must not have told her sister she was seeing Luke again. Emme didn’t look too pleased about it.

“Don’t tell me you’re mad I’m here with Anastasia,” he said. “We have the same publicist. I’m just getting her some press.”

“Cut the BS,” Emme said.

“BS?” he repeated, managing to sound shocked. “You’ve been spending too much time with that weirdo hermit you call a sister. That’s something she’d say.”

Ruh-roh. Five more seconds and our cover would be blown.

“I sure have,” Emme said. “She thinks I should dump you once and for all, and I am.”

Luke reached for her arm. Aubrey intercepted. “Please do not touch Ms. Abrams.”

“Come on, baby, tell this dude you’re only joking,” Luke said, but he kept his hands to himself. “This is how we communicate.”

Emme stood. “Contact me again and I’m leaking the photos of you in my thong.”

She stormed off, Aubrey close on her heels. Sienna threw Luke a glare and took off herself. Nat hesitated, then snapped a quick photo of him with her iPhone and shuffled off—leaving just little old me and the check. Luke looked at me and smiled. “You know I dig black chicks, right?”

“Shove it.”

“Especially sassy ones.”

“I’ve seen the photos. Please tell me you tucked.”

I glared at him until he slunk back to Anastasia. I had more important things to worry about than Luke’s inability to fill out women’s underwear, like how much the check would be and if I had enough to cover it. I reached for the thing tentatively, then inhaled and opened it.

It wasn’t there.

Inside was a note from Mr. Chow himself telling Toni how much he’d enjoyed her last movie and how he hoped she’d come back soon. Thank. You. Mr. Chow. I just wished he would’ve told us this earlier. I would’ve ordered the lobster.

By the time I left a tip and got outside, the valet had pulled the car up. We got in, accompanied by a symphony of flashbulbs.

The ride was more of the same as at dinner. Nat playing twenty questions about Toni’s fashion choices. Though by that point we’d all given up on her answering a single question about Haley.

We were pulling up to the security gate at Toni’s development when I finally figured out how to get Nat to talk about Haley—appeal to her ego. I leaned forward to look at Emme and asked, “Toni, have you changed your mind about playing Haley’s best friend?”

I turned to Nat. “We’re going for an unknown for Haley. But I’ve been trying to convince Toni to play the best friend. We’re toying with making the story more about that friendship. That loss of losing the person closest to you.”

Nat perked up. “That’s so smart. It’s what I felt when I found out she died. We hung out all the time. I almost quit Clothes Encounters because it was too hard working there without her.”

I just nodded. She was really laying the whole “we were BFFs” thing on thick.

“I even introduced her to her boyfriend,” she added.

Nat knew Victory? Did not see that one coming.

“He and I went to high school together,” she went on. “He just died too, you know. Strangled during a robbery. So I lost them both in like three months.”

“I can’t even imagine,” I said. “What was the last thing you said to Haley?”

Nat hesitated, then pulled an answer out of thin air. “I told her I loved her, of course.”

“Can you imagine if you hadn’t? That regret. You’d probably carry the guilt for the rest of your life. Have you ever seen Toni play regret? She’s a master.”

“Toni also does a mean guilt,” Sienna said as we pulled into the driveway. “It’s too bad you guys weren’t fighting before she died. Toni would finally get that Oscar she deserves.”

We got out as I spoke again. “The Academy lives for stuff like that.”

Nat was suddenly eager to please. “That actually was what happened with me and Victory.”

Interesting. We got to the porch. “Really? About what?”

She was about to answer when the front door swung open and Toni stepped out.