THE BLOCK ESTATE
THE BACKYARD
Friday, October 23rd
4:35 P.M.
It looked like an actual circus had rolled into Westchester that morning and parked in the backyard between the Block estate and the guesthouse. Lighting engineers, fashion show producers, and a few of Layne’s theater techie friends were hauling spotlights and yelling into wireless headsets as they rushed up and down the clear plastic runway that topped the Blocks’ swimming pool. Performers in aqua unitards walked invisible tightropes overhead. Thanks to Massie’s expired purple streak, she hadn’t been able to get Cirque du Soleil performers. Instead, she’d had to settle for the less popular Cirque d’Olé!, a local Spanish troupe.
Massie headed for the white silk wardrobe tent that was connected to the catwalk with a long, white silk–covered carpet. She ducked past a herd of tuxedoed caterers carrying giant silver trays of sushi. Since the runway stretched over the pool, she’d decided at the last minute to lend an aquatic, underwater feel to the circus theme.
When she reached the opening of the tent, she paused to check her watch. Three point five hours until showtime. Thank Gawd Kendra had let her take a bad sushi day. There was no way she could have gotten everything done if she’d actually had to go to school. She lifted the tent flap and ducked inside.
The MAC girls, dressed in lavender tracksuits with MAC scripted across the shoulders in metallic silver, were rolling overstuffed wardrobe racks into the tent while Inez steamed wrinkles from the silk flaps with an industrial-size steamer. Meanwhile, Jakkob’s entire staff was frantically unpacking trunks of hair spray, flatirons, and giant rollers while the makeup artists teetered in heels across the grassy tent floor, dragging bulging suitcases in their wake. Even though the tent was overflowing with people, some were obviously missing.
Boys.
The band.
“LAYNE!” she screeched.
“Huh?” She appeared from behind a rolling wardrobe rack. “What’s up?” She adjusted the headset she’d been wearing for the past two hours.
Massie crossed her arms over her chest. “I gave you two jobs. Boys and a band. Where are they?”
“Would you relax?” Layne checked herself out in one of the four makeup mirrors Massie had moved from the MAC actor trailer to the center of the wardrobe tent. Bean was sitting in the next chair over, getting a blowout. “I told you I’d take care of it, and I did. Trust me.”
Just then, Kendra popped her head through the tent flap. “Where are the male models?” she asked, texting frantically on her BlackBerry. “They were supposed to be in hair and makeup an hour ago.”
Massie glared at Layne, jerking her thumb in the LBR’s direction. “Ask her.”
“They’ll be here,” Layne repeated. But she was starting to look a little worried.
“If the boys aren’t here in twenty minutes, we’ll have to cancel the show,” Kendra said, still speed-texting. “And if the entertainment isn’t here in thirty, we’ll have to default to the original entertainment plan.
Massie’s eyes widened in horror. “You wouldn’t.”
Kendra nodded gravely. “I still have that Irish dancing troupe booked….” Her BlackBerry buzzed and she pressed it to her ear, ducking back out of the tent.
“They’ll be here,” Layne repeated, reaching for a tube of magenta glitter liner on the shelf beneath her mirror.
Massie glared at Layne and swiped the liner. Tonight, glitter was strictly off-limits. She stuffed the tube in her pocket.
Layne got the hint. Defeat-sighing, she slid from her chair. “Lemme call and check their ETA.” Without waiting for an answer, she whipped out her cell and headed for the tent exit.
Massie needed some air. She grabbed a bottle of Chanel No. 19 off a nearby makeup table, spritzed a cloud in front of her, and spun around in it. Ahhhhh. When she opened her eyes, she was face-to-face with Lilah, Kaitlyn, Jasmin, and Cassidy, who were carrying swaying stacks of press packets and fashion show programs. Kaitlyn stumbled over her heels, and papers went flying in all directions, littering the tent floor.
“Oops,” Kaitlyn shouted over the commotion. She knelt to pick them up.
“It’s okay. You can leave it,” Massie said, forcing a smile. She didn’t want to stress the models out before the show, and it was time to test-drive the catwalk. Besides, staying trapped in an airless tent while Inez pumped the place full of wrinkle-releasing humidity would frizz her ends.
“You’re sure?” Kaitlyn glanced up, crinkling her nose in uncertainty.
“Pos,” Massie assured her. “You girls ready to try out your runway?”
The girls nodded, their heads bobbing excitedly.
“Okay, then. Let’s go.” Massie made a beeline for the tent exit, not caring who or what was in her way. “Come on, Bean,” she called to her puppy, who leaped from the makeup chair to follow her. She strode past racks of clothing, stacks of chairs, and an acrobat getting body-painted to look like a mermaid. Ducking through the silk tent flaps, she hurried along the narrow covered walkway that led to the runway.
“This is the only run-through,” she called to the line of girls sprint-walking behind her. “So let’s make it count.” It felt so good to have four beautiful—but not more beautiful than her—girls walking behind her, watching her every move. They were just as excited about walking the runway as she was. Despite all the chaos, she and the MAC girls were in sync—
“Hey, Massie,” Jasmin chirped behind her. “Do you want to be president?”
“What?” Massie asked, confused. “No.”
“Then why are you running?” Jasmin finished.
The MAC girls cracked up behind her. Even Massie had to smile a little at the wannabe comeback. It wasn’t the best, but wasn’t imitation the sincerest form of flattery? She relaxed slightly, slowing down. Bean slowed, too.
“Uh, Massie?” Lilah droned behind Jasmin. “It’s way past time for our break.”
Massie whirled around. “But this is the only time we can practice.”
Jasmin crossed her arms over her chest. “But this is the only time we can have a break.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of a legal thing,” Kaitlyn reminded Massie.
Massie’s palms were starting to sweat, and she wiped them on the legs of her tracksuit. “A real friend wouldn’t want to split at a time like this. A real friend would do anything to make sure the show was perfect.” She stared down the line of girls in front of her. Bean lifted her tiny pug nose, staring down at the girls, too.
“Reality check. I’m an eend—employee friend,” Lilah shot back, stabbing Massie in the heart with her words. “And you’re my bend, remember?”
“Remind me,” Massie said slowly. “Are you or are you not getting paid to be my friend?”
“Absolutely,” Cassidy piped up, tucking her short, newly dyed platinum locks behind her ear. Even she’d had to admit the dye job was inspired.
“Then act like it!” Massie thundered, whirling back around and finishing her walk.
If this was nothing but a job to these girls, then fine. She’d treat them like employees, and nothing else. As long as they did their jobs and made the Soul-M8s jealous, she’d keep them on the payroll.
When she reached the end of the walkway, she sidestepped an electrician and reglossed for the tenth time in fifteen minutes. She’d been stress-biting her bottom lip all afternoon, which meant she would probably vom Chocolate Biscotti Glossip Girl if she didn’t stop.
Taking a seat next to the runway, Massie surveyed the progress of the backyard. Order was slowing emerging out of the chaos, like an unfinished Michelangelo sculpture. Rows of clear Lucite chairs filled with blue water, sand, and glow-in-the-dark fish were arranged on either side of the catwalk, echoing the neon coral reef, fish, and tiny sea horses that swam under the runway in the Blocks’ pool. Tuxedo-clad security guards were securing the perimeter, and across the lawn Massie could see Alicia and Claire inside the guesthouse. Their faces were strained with effort as they blew up gold star-shaped balloons.
“If we’re not getting our break, can you at least count us off?” Lilah sighed. Massie ignored her.
Claire’s balloon escaped from her lips, whizzing across the room. Both girls collapsed against the doors, their bodies shaking with laugher. Massie’s shoulders slumped as she watched. That used to be her there. Laughing and joking with her BFFs in the hours before one of their parties. Now she was stuck on the outside, dragging around a bunch of whiny actors who needed pee breaks more often than Bean. Alicia and Claire stopped laughing, and when they caught their breath, Massie caught Alicia’s eye. She was staring directly at her.
“Massie.” Lilah said again, louder this time.
“Fine,” she said, feeling Alicia’s eyes boring into her, even from hundreds of feet away. Massie stood up and plastered a runway-ready smile on her face.
“Ah-five, and six, and sev-en, eight!” On the beat, she launched into a perfect runway walk, leading her girls and Bean toward the end of the pool. Cool night air tossed her locks as she relaxed into the moment.
“Don’t forget to smile,” Kendra called from the lawn at the end of the runway.
Rolling her eyes, Massie pivoted and then grin-walked back to the tent with the confidence of an alpha who knew exactly who she was and where she was going. Nothing could get in her way. No one could distract her. Not even Alic—
“Hey!”
Massie skidded to a stop at the sight of a boy in vintage wash AG jeans, and an intentionally wrinkled white collared shirt, standing at the beginning of the runway. He had Adrian Grenier’s messy black waves, Chace Crawford’s penetrating light blue eyes, and Zac Efron’s relaxed swagger. Not to mention Massie Block’s full attention. Four more guys were crowded around him.
In one swift movement, she lifted her right hand. The MACs came to a screeching halt behind her. The hollow sound of Bean’s tiny toenails against the plastic runway ceased.
“Can I hump you?” asked Cassidy with a mischievous giggle. ”I mean, help you?”
Massie couldn’t help cracking up. A split second later, so did the boys. When the boy in front of her laughed, a single dimple appeared on the right side of his cheek.
The laughter faded but the dimple on his cheek remained, sending love waves through Massie’s body.
“I’m looking for May-see Block,” the guy finally said.
“Here.” She raised her hand, too struck to correct his mispronunciation. The boy was so hawt, she could practically feel the gloss melting off her lips.
“Landon! Finally!” Layne was galloping alongside the runway toward the boy.
“Laynie!” He raised his palm to greet her.
Landon? Laynie? Had the freak finally done something right?
“Would you excuse me for a sec?” Massie said, flirt-batting her lashes at Landon.
“Sure.” He shrugged.
Massie jumped off the runway, gripped Layne’s arm, and dragged her out of earshot. “Ehmagawd, where did you get him?” she whisper-shouted.
Unfazed, Layne checked her clipboard. “He goes to ADD. I know you have public school issues, but the public boys tend to be more available than the privates, and with such short notice I—”
“So… they know Chris?” Massie asked.
“Yup.” Layne removed her lensless glasses and breathe-cleaned the empty frames. “Prrrretty much.”
“What grade, again?”
“Ninth.”
Massie paused, her amber eyes darting while she processed the new information.
“Layne,” she finally said. “Are you a hammer?”
“No.” Layne tilted her head in a “what did I do now” kind of way. “Why?”
“Because you nailed it!”
Layne released a beef jerky–scented sigh of relief. “Told ya I would.”
Massie longed for the Chanel No. 19 in the tent. She wanted to spray him and claim him right there and then. On a stage. In public. So there would be no question as to whom he belonged to. But all she had in her pocket was a half-used tube of Chocolate Biscotti Glossip Girl, the thought of which gave her an instant stomachache. She dragged Layne back to the runway.
“Sorry ’bout that,” she said sweetly to Landon, trying hard not to stare. “Where were we?”
“Uh, I guess we were doing introductions.” Landon stepped to the side, revealing his entourage. “This is Miles—”
“Hey.” A shaggy blonde in track pants and a gray hoodie stepped forward.
“Ace—”
“What’s up?” An olive-skinned hottie in cargos and a vintage Prince T-shirt nodded.
“And Scott,” Landon finished.
“Call me Re-Quest,” Scott grinned, waving his iTouch. “I’m DJing.” In dark wash jeans and a faded T-shirt that read I TOUCH, U FEEL, he definitely looked the part.
“Hey.” Massie smile-nodded at the group. Something poked her in the back.
“Ach-HEM!” Cassidy cough-reminded her.
“Oh. Right. Meet the girls of Massie and Crew.” Massie didn’t bother moving out of the way.
“Heyyyyyyyy,” Kaitlyn cooed behind her.
“’Sup,” Tampax Sport said.
“A-lo-ha,” Lilah intoned.
Bean speed-rushed Landon, running circles around him and yipping her approval. Massie couldn’t blame her.
“And this is Bean,” she said, taking advantage of the fact that Landon was focusing on the puppy. That meant she was free to focus on his hair. How did he get it that shiny?
“I have a pug too.” Landon knelt down to scratch Bean’s head. “My boy puppy looks just like him.”
Bean stiffened at being mistaken for a boy. But Massie didn’t correct Landon.
“Really?” she grinned, kneeling too so she could smell Landon’s cologne. It was spicy and woodsy. CK Eternity Summer, if she had to guess.
“Yup.” Landon nodded. “His name’s Bark Obama.” He glanced into Massie’s eyes, grinned, then looked away.
Bark Obama? Massie felt faint. Cute, good cologne, an animal lover, and smart? Was Landon too good to be true?
“Oh-kay. Introductions. Check.” Layne announced, ruining the moment. She checked her clipboard for the billionth time and hit Landon with it. “I told you to be here half an hour ago.”
“Sorry.” Landon shrugged, sneaking another glance at Massie. She tried not to notice. The last time a guy looked at her like that, he’d ended up falling for Kristen.
“We came straight from practice. Coach kept us late,” said Re-Quest.
Massie felt her chest collapse with disappointment. Puh-lease, Gawd, not soccer again!
“Oh, really? What do you play?” Massie managed with fake pep.
“Lacrosse.” Landon shrugged like it was no big deal.
Massie’s spirits nosedived. What was it with cute boys and sports? Couldn’t they shop out their aggression like everyone else? As cute as Landon was, Massie wasn’t sure she could spend another season on a cold bleacher pretending to care. Faking interest was for listening to people’s dreams. Nawt sports. Nawt anymore.
“But I’m done for the season.” Landon tapped his left shoulder and sighed. “Delt injury.”
“Thank Gawd,” Massie accidentally said aloud.
“Huh?” Landon squinted, like maybe he hadn’t heard her properly.
“I mean, thank Gawd you stopped playing,” she managed. “Too many athletes ignore their injuries and then they’re done for life.” A wisp of brown hair blew toward her face, tickling the side of her cheek. “So whaddaya think? You done for life?”
“Maybe.” Landon half smiled, like maybe they weren’t talking about lacrosse anymore.
Massie half smiled back. “Cool.”
“Light check!” one of the engineers yelled.
Massie and Landon were suddenly bathed in the heavenly glow of twelve different spotlights.
The universe approved.
Layne checked her large-face Nike digital watch, which looked more like a microwave than a timepiece. “Curtain goes up in an hour,” she announced. “Time to get fitted for—”
Massie clapped twice. “Everyone to the tent for H&M.” She didn’t need Landon thinking Layne was in charge.
“Are you kidding?” Lilah planted one hand on her jutted hip. “I thought the clothes were designer.”
Massie rolled her eyes. “H&M is—”
“Hair and makeup,” Landon offered. Then blush-shrugged. “My mom works in fashion.”
“No way!” Massie smacked his shoulder. “That’s awesome.”
“Ahhhhhhhhh.” Landon gripped his injured delt while the lacrosse boys winced on his behalf.
“Ehmagawd, I’m so sorry.” Her hovercrafts instantly powered down. Who was she kidding, thinking she was ready for another crush? Losing Dempsey to Kristen had left her feeling like a teddy bear without stuffing. Was it too soon to love again?
Crush deactivated. Starting now.
But he was too cute! On one hand, she couldn’t live the rest of her life afraid of true love. On the other hand, she’d sworn to herself that she’d never let another boy humiliate her like Chris Abeley, Derrington, and Dempsey Solomon had. So now what?
“You guys have an appointment with Jakkob.” Massie smiled, getting back to business. Her heart would have to wait. “Girls, can you show them to the wardrobe tent?”
The MAC girls giggle-nodded, and Shaggy, Prince, and Re-Quest followed them down the runway toward the giant white tent. Landon stayed behind, digging his sneaker into the runway.
“Um… aren’t you going into makeup?” Massie asked, pressing her hands against her hips. “Nawt that you need it or anything.” No! Wait! She was coming on too strong. Start over. “But I mean, everybody else is getting it, so you prah-bly should too.” No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t sound crush free. She pinched her left hip, reminding herself that hawt boys were like Chanel’s stiletto lace-up gladiators: breathtaking, but painful to get wrapped up in.
“Thought maybe you could show me. I get lost pretty easy.” Landon grinned, his dimple reaching canyon-deep proportions.
Massie’s throat tightened. She looked at Layne, who was too busy flipping through her “to do’s” to notice the magic happening right in front of her.
“Can’t,” Massie choked out the necessary words. “I have to supervise Layne.”
“Heard that,” Layne muttered, scribbling something on her clipboard.
Landon’s dimple disappeared when the smile slipped from his lips.
“But give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m ready to walk,” she added quickly, crushed by the dimple’s sudden departure. She reached for her phone and handed it to him.
“Cool.” Landon smile-programmed his number into Massie’s cell, then hurried to catch up with his friends in the wardrobe tent. “See ya, May-see,” he called over his good shoulder.
It didn’t even matter that he’d mispronounced her name. When Landon said “May-see,” it just sounded right. If she had to change it legally, so be it.
Massie victory-glossed. Twice.
Still an hour left to showtime, and everything was falling into place. With one exception. The people she wanted to gossip about Landon with were inside the guesthouse. And from the way they were laughing without her, she knew they couldn’t have cared less.
CURRENT STATE OF THE UNION
IN OUT
ADD OCD
Injured delts Broken hearts
Crushing Crushed