Flushed and sweating and starting to freak, Liv threw her hip against the door to her apartment for the third time and pushed. She was able to nudge it open a full ten inches, and quickly squeezed her arm and right leg through.
As her butt lodged itself into the tiny opening between the hall and the apartment, she was suddenly hit with unsympathetic images of Winnie the Pooh waving and giggling at her from where he was stuck in Rabbit’s front door hole. With an unflattering squeeze and a grunt-thrust, Liv eventually wiggled through. Slamming the door shut, she cursed Rebecca and her monstrous treadmill, which was still blocking the front door. I hate her fit, freakish, stilettoed self.
Though Liv shouldn’t have been surprised at what she found waiting for her in the living room (she realized that she would never understand Rebecca), the sight that greeted her was the last thing she ever would have imagined.
The smell that had been growing in the living room—her bedroom—for the past few days had hit an all-time bad. Liv finally understood why. Sitting in the middle of the living room floor, perched atop Liv’s silver strappy shirt, was a teeny tiny not-a-dog-not-a-cat creature.
Brown and sort of see-through, the dog (yes, looking again, she could confirm that this odd little creature was definitely a dog) was shaking in its ratlike skin. Its tail, which Liv had to go all squinty-eyed to see, was formed into a curlicue next to its minuscule little butt, perfectly framing the itty-bitty poop that had landed smack-dab in the center of Liv’s favorite shirt.
Liv and the dog stared at each other for a good ten seconds, and then Liv broke the standoff to look around the rest of the room. Her eyes scanned from chair to couch to treadmill, taking a quick inventory of the damage. Her pink scarf, her perfect-blue sweater, her backup jeans, her (noooooooooooo!) little black dress, her soft green jammie pants, and the silver strappy shirt—complete with curlicue poop—were strewn around the room.
Her suitcase was exactly where it had been that morning, safely zipped and tucked into the corner of the room under Rebecca’s sun lamp. But in the corner of her suitcase, there was now an itsy-bitsy hole. This horrid little creature had clearly decided that a thinly chewed hole was the best way to extract the items in her suitcase one by one, just like a tissue box. Her favorite black skirt—which, along with her silver shirt, was on the roster for tonight’s date—was half in the hole, half out, winking at her.
Heaving a huge sigh, Liv kicked off her shoes—briefly considering whether this was a safe move with Hell Dog in the living room—and flung herself on her bed-couch. Staring at the dog, which had been following her movements with its eyes, like one of those freaky Victorian paintings, Liv was startled by the clanging of the church bells outside the window. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…
OH NO! She had just an hour until she was supposed to be back on the tube to make it to her maybe-date-but-not-getting-any-hopes-up meeting with Josh Cameron, Superstar.
As she rifled through her suitcase for suitable underwear, Liv caught a whiff of something across the room that was almost more disturbing than her ruined silver shirt—Rebecca’s Gucci eau de parfum. She was home. Looking up, Liv fixed Rebecca with her angriest stare. Liv suspected she looked more constipated than angry, but it was the best she could do.
“Oh, Li-uhv, A’m just so glad you’re getting along with My Rover. Isn’t he just the cutest thing you ever did see?” Liv could only imagine that Rebecca was referring to Liv’s new best friend, Hell Dog, who was now curled into a brown dot on Liv’s shirt. She had, naively, been under the impression that Rebecca was not yet home, as all of Liv’s clothes were still strewn about the room as chew-toys. Ah, yes, Liv realized, this is Rebecca. Is it really safe to assume she would do the normal thing and CLEAN UP!?
“Rebecca…” Liv strained to keep her voice calm, hoping that if she played the part of normal, it would somehow inspire normalcy in Rebecca. “Is this your dog?” Stupid question, but somehow necessary given the circumstances.
“Ah just couldn’t stand the thought of being without my perfect little pooch this summer, so I bought myself a new one. You know, they put dogs in a little holding cell for months when you fly them across the ocean? I wouldn’t have gotten my puppy back until the end of the summer, so I figured it was just better to get a new one.” Rebecca lowered her voice to a whisper and looked sideways at the freakish creature on Liv’s shirt. “Isn’t he just darling?”
It was official: Rebecca had just crossed yet another line into Crazy. “When did you buy this thing, Rebecca? And where is it going to live?”
Rebecca’s eyes frosted over, giving Liv the look that she had grown so accustomed to over the past week. “My Rover has been here since Tuesday. How on earth have you not noticed?” Rebecca sneered, and rambled on. “Ah’ve already potty trained him. We keep his little wee-wee pad over in the corner, next to the couch. He just piddles on there, and I replace it when he tells me it’s time. Ah hope you don’t mind.” With that, she turned and swooped up the little see-through creature and strutted back to her room.
Was she serious? This creature would be here for the rest of the summer? Peeing in her room? Well, Liv thought, as she rooted around in her suitcase, I guess that explains the smell.
Glancing quickly at the clock, Liv decided she would have to deal with Rebecca when she got home. Now was not the time to get into a battle. She only had half an hour to find a new shirt and get herself out the door.
She pulled her black skirt the rest of the way out of her suitcase and assessed the damage. No harm done. Balling the skirt, a pink ruffly bra, and her underwear in her arm, she ran to the bathroom and flew through her shower.
Returning to the living room half-dressed, Liv was relieved to see Anna was home and sitting on the couch, looking just as confused as Liv had been a few minutes before. Anna looked at Liv’s panicked face, and her eyes darted to the silver shirt still crumpled in the middle of the floor. “Don’t ask,” Liv blurted out, more harshly than she had intended. “I have to leave in five minutes to meet Josh Cameron and win him over with my charm and grace, and I now have nothing to wear. Help.”
Anna stood up, gave Liv a quick hug, and leaned down to press play on the CD player. “Music therapy,” she explained, as ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” came pouring out of the tinny speakers.
“Dancing Queen” was undoubtedly Liv’s favorite song. She sort of liked to think it was her theme song—she loved to dance, and loved that you could totally lose yourself on the dance floor. It was the one place where you could reinvent yourself, act goofy and just go with the music.
“Okay,” Anna continued, as Liv danced around the living room. “What look are you going for? Sex kitten? Confident seductress? Naive nobody? All of the above?”
“Anna, you’re European—just make me look like I fit in.”
Anna thought for a second, then darted off to her bedroom closet while Liv shimmied around the living room singing, “Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen…” Anna returned a few seconds later, holding a silky, shimmery, icy pink sleeveless shirt. “Try this on. It’s perfect.”
Liv grabbed the shirt and slipped it on over her pink bra. As it slid over her next-to-nothing breasts and down past her slender tummy, Liv could tell it was perfect. It clung in all the right places, revealing just enough that she looked sexy, yet left enough to the imagination that she looked demure and sophisticated.
Anna breathed out a sigh, and grabbed Liv’s hands. The two of them spun around the living room, singing along to the last notes of “Dancing Queen.” Just as the church bells outside chimed nine times, they collapsed onto the couch in a fit of laughter.
Liv scanned the crowd gathered near the fountain at Piccadilly Circus. As expected, no Josh Cameron. He had told her to meet him at Meat, some new nightclub in Soho.
Liv had secretly hoped that he would surprise her at the subway and escort her there, but she knew she was being totally unreasonable. He was busy and famous. And this was, after all, not a date. She headed across the street and followed the directions Anna had written for her back at the apartment as Liv had strapped herself into the World’s Most Uncomfortable Shoes Ever.
Turning onto the club’s street, she spotted a long line that snaked around a brown rope outside an unimpressive brick building. A small sign verified that she had arrived at Meat. Uncertain of what to do next, she mingled around the crowd, half in line, half out. There didn’t seem to be any real rules or order, since the bouncers were just randomly picking people out of the crowd and ushering them in. Just when Liv’s stomach had begun to curl at the idea of standing on the outside of the rope, smiling and flirting in the hope that she would be chosen to enter, a skinny guy in a suit approached her.
“Olivia.” He stated her name so matter-of-factly that she immediately nodded and smiled. “He’s inside. He asked me to escort you up. Follow, please.” Liv had no idea who this guy was, but just assumed that “he” was none other than Josh Cameron.
Liv followed as Skinny Guy made a tunnel through the waiting crowd and toward the door. He snapped twice, and a bouncer quickly pulled the rope aside to let them pass. Liv smiled at the bouncer. He narrowed his eyes and released what Liv could only assume was a growl.
Skinny Guy hustled through the low, narrow entrance to the club, while Liv struggled to stay upright on her shoes. She wondered if her feet were bleeding yet.
She looked around, trying to take everything in as she trailed behind the suited stranger into the main room of Meat. There were about thirty brown leather booths packed around the perimeter of the room, each one lit by a bare, plain white light bulb hanging from a cord extending all the way down from the superhigh ceilings.
The center of the club held a dark, crowded dance floor. Some sort of R&B music was being piped, quite literally, from pipes that extended out of each corner. A bar at the far end of the room was lit by flickering red lightbulbs. The club left Liv feeling creeped out, but she knew she would never admit that to anyone. This was, after all, one of London’s hottest clubs, and the site of her first date with Josh Cameron.
She and Skinny Guy had made their way past the booths and were now standing in the back corner of the club, next to the bar. They were directly under one of the pipes, so when Skinny Guy turned to say something to Liv, all she could hear was “ung, uh uh snu.” She just nodded her agreement (hoping he had asked something reasonable), and followed as he pulled a curtain aside, moved past a bear-size bouncer, and up an unlit staircase.
They emerged into a dim, thickly carpeted room that reminded Liv of her grandparents’ small downstairs den. She suddenly wished she were there now, watching movies and giggling with her cousin Luke while their parents played cards and drank cheap wine at the folding table upstairs.
But she wasn’t. She was in London. Standing in front of an L-shape couch packed with no less than fifteen people, all of whom were visibly drunk. Judging from the security guards positioned around the room, and the fact that two of the women on the couch had been on the cover of Us Weekly last month, Liv could only imagine she had entered some sort of VIP section at Meat.
Skinny Guy disappeared, and Liv suddenly felt very alone. She stood in the doorway for a few minutes, letting her eyes adjust to the low light. She could feel beautiful faces scanning her own, trying to determine why she was here, with them. Among the stars.
Just when she was about to turn and flee, realizing this must all have been a horrible, cruel joke, she spotted Josh Cameron walking through an archway toward her. She could feel the eyes on the couch watching as he breezed up to her and took her face in his hands, giving her a kiss on each cheek.
“You,” Josh Cameron whispered in her ear, “look stunning. Thank you for joining me.”
Blushing, Liv allowed him to take her hand. She squared her shoulders and followed as he led her through the archway and pushed aside another velvety curtain that masked a small hidden room. Apparently, this was the VIP section of the VIP section—Liv was overwhelmed.
Josh Cameron gave Liv’s hand a quick tug, and he pulled her toward the other side of the curtain, behind him. As she passed through he let the curtain fall back into place, and it knocked heavily into the side of Liv’s head. She grunted rather loudly and pushed it off, trying to act natural.
Tucking a stray curl behind her ear, Liv was relieved to see that Josh Cameron hadn’t seemed to notice. His attention had turned away from her and on the people crowded into the long, low booth sprawled out in front of them. Liv quickly scanned the faces around the table—she recognized just about everyone, but had never imagined she’d ever be this close to any one of them.
Taking a breath, Liv managed to muster up a thin, nervous smile. Josh Cameron had moved away from her and slid into a corner of the booth, kissing a few people on the other side of the table as he passed. For a few awkward seconds Liv stood alone again. Her heart was racing, and her stomach was flipping up and down.
This was just too much. Not only was she out with Josh Cameron, but she was living in a picture from People magazine’s Star Tracks section. Directly across from Liv, in the far corner of the booth, It Girl Christy Trimble was wobbily standing on the table in her stilettos, arms out to the sides, dancing with her eyes closed. Several jaw-droppingly gorgeous guys were holding her hands while she flipped her body in time to the music.
Liv noticed that the song currently piping out of the wall was a dance remix of Josh Cameron’s recent single, “Split.” The song was amazing, and rumored to be inspired by his recent break from Christy Trimble’s best enemy, Cherie Jacobson.
As Liv stood there, starstruck, Bethany Jameson—who was, quite possibly, the hottest starlet in Hollywood—nimbly hopped up on the end of the table and danced alongside Christy. Bethany’s thong rested a comfy two inches above the ultralow waistline of her Joe jeans. The two women giggled and shimmied, clearly hamming it up for the benefit of the rest of the table. Both of their mouths were wide open, singing loudly and laughing. Josh Cameron looked delighted.
They finished their routine with a quick hug, and Bethany scooted off the table and onto the lap of one of the guys who had, only moments before, been holding Christy’s hand. Christy leaned over to plant a quick kiss on Bethany’s cheek (obviously there were no hurt feelings about the guy swap) before taking a long sip from her drink.
Josh Cameron motioned Liv toward him in the corner of the booth, and she adjusted her skirt as she slid in beside him. A few of the Star Tracks subjects glanced up briefly to greet her, then went back to their cigarettes and conversations.
“Drink?” Josh Cameron was pouring himself a short glass of vodka from the center of the table, where a buffet of booze sat in icy buckets next to a platter of mixers.
“Oh, um…” Liv hadn’t really had a lot of opportunity to drink in Michigan. In fact, she had had a total of one nasty incident involving some sort of licorice liqueur that left her facedown on the toilet seat. Her dad had not been impressed, and frankly, Liv hadn’t been so impressed with the morning after.
So, she wondered, is this the time to give it another whirl? With a table full of It Girls and Josh Cameron? “Hmm, you know, I think I’ll pass for now. I had kind of a weird dinner, and my stomach is a little iffy.”
Liv realized her excuse sounded pretty lame—and, on second thought, kind of gross—but figured it was better than the alternative. She already had a visual in mind that involved Bear Bouncer dragging a passed-out Liv from the VIP section with her skirt wrapped around her armpits. Cute.
“Olivia, you are astoundingly charming. So All-American Girl.” Josh Cameron’s dimples deepened as he smiled at her. His eyes were deliciously green. Liv couldn’t believe she was here, with him. And it did seem a little like a date. “Tell me all about you.”
“Oh,” Liv said, her tongue tied. “Well, what do you want to know?”
“Everything. I want to know what moves you.” Josh stared into her eyes, his expression identical to the front of his last CD cover.
Liv was caught between laughing and crying. Is he serious? “Well, okay, um, I, ah, I’m from Michigan. Hmm, and uh, I live with my dad?” Is that a question?! What’s wrong with you, Liv? Say something remotely interesting. “Oh! I know. My mom actually worked as a VJ at Music Mix in New York before I was born. That’s something!” Though it was true, Liv wasn’t sure why she had decided to mention that, of all things, to Josh Cameron. Although, her mom’s music background did make her feel more worthy of sitting at this table, with all of these celebrities.
“I’m in awe, Olivia.” Josh Cameron continued to stare at Liv with a poster boy sort of expression. “You are fascinating.”
“Okay,” Liv said, averting her eyes from his constant stare. “Well, thanks. But tell me about you! I guess I know a lot, but, well, I s’pose a lot of the stuff I read in magazines isn’t really true.” She laughed awkwardly, hoping to turn the topic of conversation away from herself.
Josh Cameron’s eyes twinkled in the low light as he murmured, “It’s all true. If you want it to be.” Liv swallowed hard, wondering what, exactly, that meant.
In fact, Liv wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to be true. The Josh Cameron sitting next to her was a little intimidating… and rehearsed. She wasn’t sure why, but she sort of felt like he was reading from a script. But, she reminded herself as he smiled at her again, you’re on a date—in a VIP room—with Josh Cameron! So who cares?
Liv let herself melt into the booth while Josh Cameron entertained her with stories of his recent tour, gossip about other celebrities, and his plans for the fall. She couldn’t believe the life he led. It seemed so fascinating. And as she sat there, he seemed more and more normal. She soon realized that when her mouth was zipped tightly shut, Liv felt a thousand times more comfortable with him.
So for the next several hours Liv let Josh chatter on and enjoyed the insider gossip. As they stood up to dance sometime long after midnight, crowded among the other celebrities, Liv just smiled silently as Josh Cameron leaned in to share the details of his last party at Chateau Marmont. His hands wrapped around her waist, talking all the while—he never even noticed that she hadn’t uttered a word.