Princess of Hollywood (The Glitterati Files Book 2) Read online

  The kind that her late husband Frank used to be featured on all the time.

  Once upon a time, when I was a kid, Frank MacMillan’s smiling face had been everywhere I looked. On magazine covers at the checkout stands, on commercials, on trailers for his show, and splashed all over the world of entertainment news. I looked away from the screen.

  These days, I still saw his face often… in my nightmares.

  “Who told you to watch tonight?” I asked. I half feared she’d say Frank. Brandon’s mom had been toeing the line of crazy for as long as I could remember, but Brandon leaving had pushed her over the edge. She’d been talking about her dead husband a lot lately, and that was one of the reasons I dreaded coming over here.

  But even if he wasn’t speaking to me, Brandon was still my best friend. And his mom had always treated me like part of the family, so checking up on her was the least I could do. Besides, someone had to look out for her while her son was off in LA with Lila.

  “Brandon told me,” she said calmly—so calmly it was hard to tell if this was one of her good days or her bad. If Brandon really had reached out to her or if she was living in a delusion.

  I picked up the scattered newspapers, the empty food wrappers. “You heard from Brandon?”

  She didn’t answer. Her eyes were glazed. I saw an empty glass beside her—cheap whiskey. No matter how many times I tried to clear her house of alcohol, she managed to find more.

  I wondered if Brandon had known what he was doing when he’d left like he did. If he’d had any idea how much it would destroy what was left of her sanity. I wondered a lot of things about Brandon these days. Like why the hell he’d left without saying a word to me, his best friend.

  At least, I had been his best friend.

  My gut churned, my chest tightened. Brandon was the closest thing I had to a brother. The only real family I had aside from my dad. But he’d left without a word, and I had no idea why.

  Amber said she didn’t know, but she’d been cagey and strange ever since Brandon took off. Not hard to understand why. She’d no doubt been just as hurt by his sudden departure as I had been by Lila’s. Amber had always had a thing for Brandon, everyone knew that. And today… well, today, Amber wasn’t at school, and no one knew why.

  I’d swung by her grandparents’ ranch on my way here. It was right next door, and I stopped by with the very real excuse that my dad had asked me to come over and see if they needed anything. An elderly couple alone on a ranch… my dad had a heart of gold and never failed to look after the locals.

  They’d said they were fine, a little lonely now that Amber was gone but good.

  So, now Amber was gone too.

  Three friends gone in one month. And not one of them had thought to tell me why.

  My chest burned with a sensation that wouldn’t go away, a mix of fear and shame and anger and… regret.

  How much did Brandon know? What had he learned that made him flee like that? What had Lila said to finally get her way and make him leave with her?

  I dropped some empty dishes into the kitchen sink and scrubbed a hand through my hair. I could chase these questions in a loop all night long, but it wouldn’t get me any new answers. I’d still be here, in Pinedale… and she would be gone.

  The pain was so familiar one would think I’d have gotten used to it by now.

  One would be wrong.

  I was hurt by Brandon’s sudden departure and by his silence. I was surprised and a little bummed that Amber had left the same way.

  But Lila…

  I shut my eyes and clenched my jaw against the wave of pain that was so familiar but no less brutal no matter how much time had passed. It hurt today just as much as it had the night of the Sadie Hawkins dance when I’d watched her walk away.

  I’d been such an idiot. Falling for the girl who I’d known from day one was only here to cause trouble.

  I lifted my head and headed back into Mrs. Macmillan’s living room.

  Lila had only come here for Brandon, and she’d made it clear that she’d take him back to Hollywood with her by any means necessary.

  I should have believed her.

  “Brandon should be on soon,” his mother said as I headed toward the door.

  I glanced at the TV screen and back to the woman who looked too old for her years. Her gray hair was long and unkempt, her face pale and ashen from too much time inside this house—inside this room.

  “What else did Brandon say?” I asked, despite my better judgment. He’d left her a note saying he needed space. That he loved her but knew that she’d been lying to him, knew that she'd been keeping secrets.

  But how much did he know?

  That was the question haunting me, and I had no doubt it was the same question that kept driving Mrs. MacMillan to open up another bottle.

  I knew Brandon was pissed at his mom, and that I could understand. I was almost certain he’d found out about her affair with Lila’s dad. And Amber had told me that he’d found his dad’s suicide note, so he knew his mother had lied to him about the accidental overdose.

  But did he know the rest?

  I stared at his mom’s profile in the flickering glow of the TV. Why had she even kept that note? I knew better than to ask. A question like that in the state she was in right now… It would be enough to send her into a spiral of angry shouts followed by endless weeping.

  I’d seen her lose her grip on sanity too many times to count.

  I’d picked up the pieces when she’d totally fallen apart. Luckily for her, it had been me there and no one else. I already knew her worst secret. But the question was… did Brandon?

  Mrs. MacMillan turned away from the TV. “He and that devil’s spawn are going to be on TV.” She turned back to the TV, an unlit cigarette dangling from her fingers. “Satan’s whore,” she muttered.

  “Brandon said he and Lila would be on TV?” Even as I asked it, I was mentally kicking myself for encouraging her. She was out of her mind again, no doubt off those pills she was supposed to be taking.

  “Frank would know what to say to him,” she said. “If he were here, he’d tell that filthy whore to keep her paws off my boy.”

  I said nothing. I might hate the thought of Lila, I might despise the fact that after everything that had gone down between us she’d still walked away. With Brandon, no less. But I wasn’t about to agree that she was a filthy whore or Satan’s spawn or any of the other names Mrs. MacMillan called her.

  She was spoiled, entitled, and… beautiful. Sweet when she wanted to be. I had to believe she’d had her reasons.

  I muttered a curse under my breath. Who was I kidding? Of course she had her reasons. Those reasons were money, wealth, power, and fame. All the things she’d left behind when she’d come to Pinedale.

  “Idiot,” I murmured under my breath as I cleared an end table full of dirty dishes. I was such an idiot. One month and I still wanted to hope. I was still trying to make excuses for her.

  Amber was right. Lila had played us all. Me more than anyone. She’d strung me along and now…

  I scowled down at the dishes in my hand.

  And now, Amber was gone too. But where? And why the hell was Brandon still not returning my calls? What had I done that he wouldn’t even talk to me about it? Why would he trust Lila when he knew exactly what she was about—

  “There he is,” Mrs. MacMillan breathed. “My Frankie is back.”

  I winced. Frank wasn’t coming back. Frank was dead.

  And I’d seen him die.

  I glanced over at Mrs. MacMillan’s pale profile.

  I’d seen her kill him.

  The world believed that Frank MacMillan died of an accidental overdose. A few people knew that the overdose wasn’t an accident, but intentional.

  Mrs. MacMillan hadn’t wanted Brandon to know even that much. She’d said it would ruin him if he knew his father had tried to take his own life.

  There were only two people who knew the truth.

 
Frank MacMillan had tried to kill himself. He’d written the note, he’d taken the pills… but he’d failed. They’d found him before he died. They’d pumped his stomach and saved his life. He would have recovered. At least, there was a chance he would have.

  Just like that, the nightmare was front and center. But it wasn’t a nightmare, it was a memory—one I’d relived more times than I could count.

  My parents had brought me to the hospital to be there for Brandon. As Brandon’s best friend, I’d gone off alone to find him, but he hadn’t been in the waiting room, so I’d checked the hospital room. I’d had flowers for Mrs. MacMillan.

  Sometimes, I’d swear I could still smell those damn flowers.

  But Brandon wasn’t in the room when I got there and froze in the doorway because… Frank woke up. I was standing there in the doorway when he opened his eyes. When he’d looked at his wife.

  I’d watched in silence as she’d lifted a pillow, as she’d placed it over his face—

  I shivered despite the cloying heat in this stuffy, smoke-filled room. It was over. It was done. Those in the know believed it was suicide. His fans believed he’d caved to the hard-partying lifestyle of the rich and famous.

  Only Mrs. MacMillan and I knew the truth. And now, she was talking to the man she murdered. I shut my eyes and then moved to her side to remind her again. “Mrs. MacMillan, your husband Frank, he’s—”

  But she cut me off by pointing a finger at the screen, her eyes wide and a dreamy smile hovering on her lips. “There’s my boy.”

  My boy. Now she was talking about Brandon. I followed her finger and froze.

  For once, she wasn’t crazy. Well, she was, but she wasn’t delusional. Not about this. Brandon was there on the screen, on a stage or a red carpet or something. He was all dressed up, and then the camera moved back and…

  The air rushed from my lungs. The sight of Lila on his arm, smiling up at him…

  It was a sucker punch that left me reeling.

  He was there, and she was there. And they were…

  Oh God, they were together. Maybe I should have guessed. Maybe some part of me already suspected. But I hadn’t wanted to believe that he would do that to me. That she would do that to me. I’d thought they were just friends and…

  Oh God, I was such a fool.

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away even though my heart felt like it was breaking all over again at the sight of them there… together. A couple. Lila was wrapped around his arm and looking at him like he was the center of the universe.

  The floor slid out from underneath me as the announcer’s voice filtered through my brain.

  Brandon with his girlfriend. Brandon, Frank’s son.

  Brandon who would reprise the role his father had made famous.

  Lila had gotten everything she’d ever wanted.

  And I… I wasn’t about to sit on the sidelines and watch. I shook my head as Brandon’s mom began to wail. “Oh Jack, you have to save him. The devil has him in her clutches.”

  I held her by her arms, forcing her to meet my gaze. “She’s not the devil, Mrs. MacMillan.”

  But she was close.

  “She couldn’t force Brandon into doing anything he didn’t want to do.”

  Unless she played dirty.

  And I wouldn’t put it past her or her manipulative, powerful family to play dirty. Brandon had never wanted to be a celebrity, not even when he was a kid, acting on the show alongside his father.

  He’d always said Hollywood and the acting life weren’t for him.

  So, what changed his mind?

  Who?

  I didn’t have to look at the TV to see Lila’s pretty smile, her outrageous bravado, her ability to twist a guy into knots with a bat of her eyelashes.

  “You have to help him, Jack.” Mrs. MacMillan was close to hysteria. Her eyes were wild and crazed. “You have to save him before he follows his father into a life of sin.”

  I clenched my jaw against those words. Mrs. MacMillan had always had a way of twisting the past to fit her own story, to follow the narrative she’d created that had cast Frank as the villain and her as the helpless victim.

  I didn’t believe Brandon was helpless, but I knew he was confused. And whatever it was that had driven him from Pinedale, it had left him vulnerable.

  Easy prey for a manipulative witch like Lila.

  “Please, Jack,” Mrs. MacMillan breathed.

  I stared at the crazy old lady who’d haunted my nightmares for nearly a decade. I didn’t want to help her, but I couldn’t stop worrying about Brandon.

  And I needed closure with Lila. I couldn’t keep going on like this, obsessing about her every morning, noon, and night. I needed answers. I needed to know why she left.

  I needed to know if any of it had been real.

  And if truth be told, I’d had this burning need, this impatience, this ache…

  I had to see her. Just one more time. Then maybe I could get Lila Devereaux out of my system.

  Turning to the TV, I shut it off before I had to hear any more about Brandon, or Lila, or that ridiculous TV show.

  That ache ratcheted out of control, my rage and my hurt threatened to eat me alive. “Don’t worry, Mrs. MacMillan,” I said when I turned back to her. “I’ll go find Brandon. I’ll make sure he’s all right.”

  Three

  Lila

  Perching on the stone wall that lined the courtyard of my Beverly Hills private school, I stared at Brandon as he stared at Richard. “Could you please try not to be so obvious?”

  He turned to me with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

  I rolled my eyes, but it was hard not to smile. I might have been miserable this past month, but at least taking Brandon out of Podunk had been a success. He’d thrived here, away from his mother’s crazy and the small-town, fishbowl lifestyle. With each passing day he seemed to be figuring out who he was away from the heavy memories of his father and the expectations to follow in his footsteps as the macho football-playing rancher’s son.

  His gaze strayed away from me as he not-so-casually cast another glance in Richard’s direction.

  I sighed but let it go, sipping on my bottled water instead. “Somebody’s in looove,” I said in a sing-song whisper, laughing softly as he blushed. For real, he blushed. A hint of pink crept up past the collar of his T-shirt and into his cheeks.

  “You’re too easy to tease,” I said.

  He grinned, unapologetic. He cast one last look over at the school’s most eligible gay boy. “I can’t help it. He’s so cute.”

  “And he’s so into you,” I agreed. If Brandon wasn’t subtle about this burgeoning crush, then Richard was like a freakin’ billboard. All day every day, the short dark hottie was either casting longing looks in Brandon’s direction or outright flirting with him.

  “You think?” Brandon asked.

  I opened my mouth to remind him again of the deal he’d made with my dad. Well, the deal I’d made on his behalf. Brandon got all the fame and fortune he’d been promised, and I got to be his beard.

  Yay for me.

  The rest of the world might have been aware that this was the twenty-first century and that homophobia was lame, but my dad wasn’t exactly open-minded. Oh, he personally didn’t care what team Brandon played for, and he didn’t have anything against gay people. He even okayed a gay cowboy secondary character for the reprisal of Love on the Range. He just didn’t think the housewives of America wanted an openly gay guy playing sexy cowboy Colt Ranger, the role that Brandon’s father made famous so many years ago.

  So, the deal was, Brandon could do whatever he wanted in private. But in public? He and I were a couple. Which meant, no open flirting in the courtyard with Richard-the-gay-hottie.

  I went to remind him of that, but the eager hopefulness in his gaze gave me pause. Brandon was so sweet, so kind. So oddly naive considering his family history. To remind him right now felt like kicking a puppy.

  Instead, I said, “Yeah. I really thin
k he likes you.”

  I was rewarded with a goofy grin, the kind I’d never once seen from him back in his hometown. He moved to sit on the wall beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist. That was my cue that we had visitors.

  Sure enough…

  “Hey, you lovebirds,” Siobhan called out. She and my other bestie, Evie, were on their way over, their hips swinging in unison as they strutted their stuff, acting like they didn’t know that a handful of guys were watching their every move.

  Evie gave me air kisses, a pretentious habit she’d picked up on her last trip to Ibiza with Siobhan. Siobhan still had a golden glow from that trip—and from the tanning salon, no doubt. It was a trip I’d had to miss to go on Operation Lure Brandon in Pinedale.

  I’d been so bummed to skip it, but now…

  Well, now everything was different. I guess maybe I was different. For better or for worse. I forced a smile. “Hey ladies, what are you up to?”

  I only half listened as they told me of their plans to head to a new club opening tonight. Brandon did a better job feigning interest than I did. So, you know, maybe it was for the best that he was the one who’d come to Hollywood for an acting gig. Me? I was right back where I’d started.

  Still a pawn in Daddy’s games, still at his mercy, still a Hollywood socialite. But this time, it was worse. Because now, I knew what I was missing.

  I held my breath for a second, as if that would block out a wave of pain as a memory of flashing, laughing eyes and a sexy smirk filled my mind’s eye. Images of teasing, laughing, bickering… kissing.

  I closed my eyes. Shut it down.

  It was far too late for regrets. And besides… I opened my eyes to glance over at Brandon, my chest squeezing in an entirely different way. With affection. Friendship.

  I didn’t regret my decision. It had been the right choice to help my friend.

  Evie’s long red hair blew across her face and she swiped it away with a sound of disgust. “Hello. Earth to Lila.”

  I blinked up at her. “Sorry, what?”

  She and Siobhan exchanged a look I knew well. Once upon a time, that look would have annoyed the crap out of me. Who did they think they were to act like I was the odd man out, right?