Read Online Holly Hearts Hollywood by Kenley Conrad - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kenley Conrad
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“Why’d you lie about that? I could’ve hung out with Keller more.”
“Exactly,” she said, her hands on her hips in concentration. “You don’t want him to get sick of you; you have to keep him wanting more. Plus, now you seem desirable and popular.” She looked seriously at the dress. “I’m going to try it on! It’d be great for the party.”
I didn’t see the big deal with the dress. It was a shapeless black thing with a weird hemline and a gigantic price tag. Seriously, I could buy two used cars for the same amount of money. The YSL boutique was seriously fancy—I was afraid to touch anything. All of the salespeople seemed more like poorly-fed models instead of retail employees. I like food too much to sell clothes, either in stores or in print ads. But, of course, Serena looked like a superstar in the dress.
The sales associate, Poppy, who’s apparently a good friend of Serena, kept fussing over her. “You look amazing, Serena! Maybe you could convince Grayson to sign with the label at the party! Especially if you wear those strappy Louboutin sandals you bought last month.”
Serena laughed. “It’s doubtful, he’s so not into brunettes, and I’ve tried before.”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupted, “but what party is this?”
“My dad didn’t tell you? When the album’s finished, he’s hosting a big party at our house, mainly for Grayson Frost’s benefit so he’ll leave Golden Chord. Shell Shocked really wants Grayson. It’s unlikely he’ll sign, though; Grayson loves Nashville. Oh, and you’re invited to the party, of course.”
I felt sick, but the memories of Keller and our sexy cupcake exchange were enough to keep me from vomiting all over the malnourished sales associates.
THINGS FOUND TODAY:
1. Twelve-pack of vintage Pepsi bottles
2. A retro pillbox hat
3. Novelty x-ray glasses
February 15 th , 11:30am—Shell Shocked Records
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I’m in a sound booth right now. There’s a giant, scary microphone and a music stand with the songs ready to go on it. The walls are padded. I’m not sure if this is a place where you record music or bang your head against the wall because the voices won’t stop.
I have to record the music I’ve barely had a week to practice, and I only have a few days to do it. Usually, you can spend as much as a year making an album, but the studio wants to get this CD on the market as soon as possible. On top of that, Lacey seems to be under the impression that I’m her personal assistant, ever since I took care of those yellow Mike and Ikes for her.
She came parading in a few minutes ago with a full-on entourage in tow. They sounded like a flock of birds as they entered. First came a girl with mouse-brown hair, typing frantically on an iPad, then a tall dark-haired woman on her cell phone, and then a bleach-blonde in a hot pink Juicy Couture tracksuit. Lastly, Lacey came gliding in, looking glamorous as per usual.
“Have you started yet?” she demanded, examining her cuticles.
“Um, no? Is there something I can help you with? Who are they?” I asked, looking cautiously at the three rather busy-looking people.
“Hello, I’m Kayla Whitney, I’m Lacey’s personal assistant,” the one with the iPad said. I liked Kayla right away. She seemed the most down-to-earth out of all of them.
The one on the cell phone was a bit distracted, so Kayla said, “That’s Sabrina Thomas, Lacey’s publicist, and this is Kimberly.” She gestured to the tracksuit woman who looked like a Toddlers and Tiaras mom. “She’s Lacey’s mom and manager.”
“Hiya, honey,” Kimberly said with an obvious Texas drawl. “You’ll take care of my baby now, won’t you?”
“Um, sure?”
“Mom, stop it; you’re embarrassing me,” Lacey said in a bored tone.
“I’m trying to be a good manager, honey.”
Lacey rolled her lips. “Yeah, well, you’re terrible at it so far.” She put down her phone and looked at
“Exactly,” she said, her hands on her hips in concentration. “You don’t want him to get sick of you; you have to keep him wanting more. Plus, now you seem desirable and popular.” She looked seriously at the dress. “I’m going to try it on! It’d be great for the party.”
I didn’t see the big deal with the dress. It was a shapeless black thing with a weird hemline and a gigantic price tag. Seriously, I could buy two used cars for the same amount of money. The YSL boutique was seriously fancy—I was afraid to touch anything. All of the salespeople seemed more like poorly-fed models instead of retail employees. I like food too much to sell clothes, either in stores or in print ads. But, of course, Serena looked like a superstar in the dress.
The sales associate, Poppy, who’s apparently a good friend of Serena, kept fussing over her. “You look amazing, Serena! Maybe you could convince Grayson to sign with the label at the party! Especially if you wear those strappy Louboutin sandals you bought last month.”
Serena laughed. “It’s doubtful, he’s so not into brunettes, and I’ve tried before.”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupted, “but what party is this?”
“My dad didn’t tell you? When the album’s finished, he’s hosting a big party at our house, mainly for Grayson Frost’s benefit so he’ll leave Golden Chord. Shell Shocked really wants Grayson. It’s unlikely he’ll sign, though; Grayson loves Nashville. Oh, and you’re invited to the party, of course.”
I felt sick, but the memories of Keller and our sexy cupcake exchange were enough to keep me from vomiting all over the malnourished sales associates.
THINGS FOUND TODAY:
1. Twelve-pack of vintage Pepsi bottles
2. A retro pillbox hat
3. Novelty x-ray glasses
February 15 th , 11:30am—Shell Shocked Records
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I’m in a sound booth right now. There’s a giant, scary microphone and a music stand with the songs ready to go on it. The walls are padded. I’m not sure if this is a place where you record music or bang your head against the wall because the voices won’t stop.
I have to record the music I’ve barely had a week to practice, and I only have a few days to do it. Usually, you can spend as much as a year making an album, but the studio wants to get this CD on the market as soon as possible. On top of that, Lacey seems to be under the impression that I’m her personal assistant, ever since I took care of those yellow Mike and Ikes for her.
She came parading in a few minutes ago with a full-on entourage in tow. They sounded like a flock of birds as they entered. First came a girl with mouse-brown hair, typing frantically on an iPad, then a tall dark-haired woman on her cell phone, and then a bleach-blonde in a hot pink Juicy Couture tracksuit. Lastly, Lacey came gliding in, looking glamorous as per usual.
“Have you started yet?” she demanded, examining her cuticles.
“Um, no? Is there something I can help you with? Who are they?” I asked, looking cautiously at the three rather busy-looking people.
“Hello, I’m Kayla Whitney, I’m Lacey’s personal assistant,” the one with the iPad said. I liked Kayla right away. She seemed the most down-to-earth out of all of them.
The one on the cell phone was a bit distracted, so Kayla said, “That’s Sabrina Thomas, Lacey’s publicist, and this is Kimberly.” She gestured to the tracksuit woman who looked like a Toddlers and Tiaras mom. “She’s Lacey’s mom and manager.”
“Hiya, honey,” Kimberly said with an obvious Texas drawl. “You’ll take care of my baby now, won’t you?”
“Um, sure?”
“Mom, stop it; you’re embarrassing me,” Lacey said in a bored tone.
“I’m trying to be a good manager, honey.”
Lacey rolled her lips. “Yeah, well, you’re terrible at it so far.” She put down her phone and looked at
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