“We’ll each have the salmon, cooked medium rare, broccoli rabe, and a side of quinoa,” Renée Reynolds—aka Nancy—told the waiter.
“Would you care for something else to drink besides bottled water?” he asked.
“No, Evian will be fine,” she said, speaking for herself as well as her granddaughter.
Madison didn’t want a healthy meal of fish, vegetables and grains; she wanted an iced-cold martini, and a juicy burger with extra cheese, but of course both of those items were off limits as far as her grandmother was concerned. Renée had summoned Madison to dinner to go over her upcoming schedule. At first Madison was excited since they were going to that new restaurant off Park Avenue. She had been dying to go there ever since they opened two months ago. But once they were seated and her grandmother started ordering for her, Madison regretted being there. The menu sounded delicious, with rare cuts of beef served in rich sauces, free-range chicken on a bed of smashed Yukon gold potatoes, and decadent desserts, but Renée had Madison on dietary restrictions, and wouldn’t let her order anything fattening.
“I spoke with your agent this afternoon, and she has some really interesting shoots lined up for you. She also sent your portfolio over to Tom Ford, and he wants to use you in his upcoming show, and is even thinking about hiring you to be his spokesmodel,” Renée said, once the waiter was gone.
“Wow, that’s great! I love Tom Ford’s designs. He’s awesome.”
“Yes, he is extremely talented. I told her that you’d be pleased. She also set up a personal appearance for you.”
“What type of personal appearance?” Madison asked. She was used to doing fashion shows, and magazine spreads with photographers, but she had never done an appearance.
“There’s this young new singer that is having a release party for his upcoming album, and your agent and I both thought that it would be a good idea for you to attend. There’s going to be media from across the country there, and it’ll give you exposure beyond the fashion industry,” Renée explained.
Madison couldn’t believe her ears. Her overprotective grandmother had arranged for her to attend a hot party. Madison was getting excited, but calmed down. There must be a catch, she thought, and decided to find out more about this party before she got all hyped up. “So, who is the artist?”
“His name is Lucas Williams. Have you heard of him?”
“Lucas Williams?” Madison thought for a second. “That name does sound familiar.”
“Maybe you read about him in one of those teen magazines,” Renée said, trying to help jog Madison’s memory.
“No, that’s not it.” Madison put her elbow on the table, and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “Hmm, Lucas Williams, Lucas Williams,” she said, repeating his name over and over. Then a hundred-watt bulb went off. “OMIGOD!”
“What is it, Dear?” Renée asked, sounding alarmed at Madison’s loud tone.
“I know Lucas!”
“Really? Is he one of your school friends?”
“Yes, and no,” Madison said cryptically.
“What do you mean, dear?”
“He goes to Walburton, but we’re not exactly friends,” she said, remembering how she had treated him on his first day. “Excuse me, Nancy. I have to go to the ladies’ room,” Madison said, getting up from the table with her purse in hand.
“Sure, dear.”
Inside the restroom, Madison went straight to the suite—the large handicap stall—closed the door, hung her Jacobs bag on the door hook, dug out her cell phone and promptly called Reagan.
“Hey, Mad, I thought you were having dinner with Nancy this evening,” Reagan said, once she picked up.
“I am, but I made a dash to the ladies’ room. I had to call you,” Madison whispered, covering the mouthpiece of the phone with her right hand, so she wouldn’t be heard, just in case someone was in the next stall.
“What’s going on? Why are you whispering?”
“You won’t believe what I just learned!”
“What?” Reagan asked, sounding anxious.
“You know that new boy who goes to Walburton?”
“You mean the broke loser?” Reagan answered.
“Yes, him. But he’s not a ‘broke loser.’”
“What makes you think that? He’s at Walburton on a scholarship, and he’s dating Kennedy, so in my book, that makes him a broke loser!” she said, putting emphasis on the words. “Besides…
Madison cut her off, “Hold on, there’s something that you don’t know.”
“Look, I know all I need to know about Mr. BL,” she said, giving him a nickname.
“No, you don’t. Now if you’ll stop talking, I’ll tell you what I found out,” Madison said, quieting her friend.
“Go ahead. I’m listening,” Reagan said, sounding slightly annoyed that Madison had rudely cut her off.
“Lucas is a singer!” Madison shrieked underneath her breath.
“A singer?” Reagan asked, not sure if she had heard right.
“Yep, and get this…he’s having a release party and my agent set me up to make an appearance.”
“What? Are you sure it’s the same boy who goes to our school?” Reagan asked, still not believing what Madison was telling her.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Nancy just finished telling me.”
“Maybe he just has the same name as this new singer.”
“Hey, I’ve got an idea. Are you near your computer?” Madison asked.
“Yeah, I’m sitting at my desk right now.”
“Google Lucas Williams, and see what comes up,” Madison suggested.
“That’s a good idea.” A few clicks later, and Reagan yelled, “OMIGOD! OMIGOD!”
“What? What?”
“It’s, it’s him!! I can’t believe it!”
“What does it say?”
Reagan read in silence for a moment, then said, “There’s a picture of him standing on a rooftop looking sexy as hell, and it says his new CD is coming out next Tuesday, and that a huge party is scheduled for Friday to celebrate the release.”
“See, I told you!”
“Omigod!” Reagan said, again, letting the information sink in.
“I can’t believe that we were so rude to him. And I even asked if he was at Walburton on a scholarship.”
“We both thought that he was there on a scholarship. If we had known that he was a potential star, then we would’ve insisted that he join our clique,” Reagan said, sounding remorseful.
“I guess we blew that.”
“Not really; maybe there’s still a chance to win him over. I mean, if he likes Kennedy, then why wouldn’t he like me? I mean, we do look exactly alike. Besides, I already took one boyfriend from her, so why not take this one, too?!” Reagan said, sounding heartless.
“And how are you going to manage that? Lucas doesn’t even look in your direction.”
“I don’t know yet, but trust me, I’ll think of something.”
“Look, Rea, I gotta go before Nancy thinks I went AWOL, and comes storming in here looking for me.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”
Madison put her phone back in her purse, exited the stall, and washed her hands. She didn’t know what type of scheme Reagan was cooking up, but knowing her friend, whatever it was, was sure to be hot!!