Read Online Holly Hearts Hollywood by Kenley Conrad - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kenley Conrad
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me. “So you’re coming to the party next week, right? I’m wearing Versace, and I’ll need all of the help I can get.”
She seemed like she needed mental help more than a stylist or an assistant.
“What do you want me to do, hold your train?”
Lacey wrinkled her nose, which did nothing to harm her beauty—it simply made her look adorable. “No, this isn’t a wedding! I need someone to have breath mints for me and to make sure my lip-gloss doesn’t smear.”
“Isn’t that Kayla’s job?”
Kayla didn’t look up from the glow of her iPad. “I have the night off, and my family is in town. Also, I’m not her slave.”
Lacey sighed dramatically, “I can’t take her anywhere.”
Sabrina pulled her phone away from her ear. “Lace,” she said, “how do you feel about doing Saturday Night Live sometime next month? Rihanna canceled.”
Lacey tossed her hair over one shoulder, as if she got offers to be on television shows all the time. “Sure, sounds cool.”
Cool? Cool? Her album isn’t even out yet, it’s not even recorded yet, and she’s already landing gigs like SNL . Does the sun orbit around Lacey or what?
“So, you’re coming? I like, totally need you,” Lacey prompted.
“Um, sure?” I said, completely confused about what to say.
Lacey flashed me her million-dollar smile. Honestly, that smile could’ve cost her a million dollars; I’ve never seen teeth that straight and white before. “Great. Kayla will call you later with the details.” She turned to her mom. “Manuel said that Grayson should arrive at eight; that gives me just enough time to make my move.”
Kimberley pulled her sweatpants up. “You go get him, honey. You can do it.”
Really? Can you believe it? Her mom was encouraging her daughter to chase after him? How messed up is that? They left right after I said I’d come along. By that point, my panic started to rise as I realized I’d promised Lacey I’d go to a celebrity-filled party, and I knew Grayson would be there. This is a disaster waiting to happen.
Oh no, the producers are here. It’s time.
Later, 7:00pm—Pink Palm Motel
I was so nervous about recording; but when we got started, the soundproof booth made me feel like I was alone and not like big-shot executives were only a few feet away. When push came to shove, my love for singing helped me get over my fears. Granted, I never want to get on stage at Madison Square Garden, but this will do for now.
Mr. Salazar was thrilled about how the tracks came out today. He came into the sound booth after we finished and thanked me for all my hard work. I was feeling good about myself, until Lacey came into the booth after he left and leaned against the doorframe.
“Hi, Lacey,” I said cautiously.
She snapped her gum loudly. “Do you always wear your hair like that?”
I looked at my reflection in the polished glass. My hair refuses to have any kind of volume or body and hangs around my face like drapes.
“Um, yes? Is it supposed to look different?”
Lacey blew a bubble and somehow managed to not let it pop all over her face. “You can’t be seen around me with hair like that.”
“I’m sorry?” I spat the words out. I wasn’t sure what to say, but I’m pretty sure that apologizing about my personal appearance is painfully passive-aggressive. How do I expect to be self-confident when I can’t even stand up for my hair?
“Come on,” Lacey waved me toward her. “Wendell will probably let me squeeze you in.”
“Squeeze me into what?” I said dumbly as I scampered after her.
Lacey didn’t respond—she already had her iPhone to her ear, barking orders into it. “I know I need an appointment. I have long-standing appointments every two weeks. You can make an exception; I’m a loyal customer.”
I was REALLY confused, but for whatever reason, I followed her through Shell Shocked.
“Great, that’s exactly what I like to hear,” Lacey said. She hung up without even saying
She seemed like she needed mental help more than a stylist or an assistant.
“What do you want me to do, hold your train?”
Lacey wrinkled her nose, which did nothing to harm her beauty—it simply made her look adorable. “No, this isn’t a wedding! I need someone to have breath mints for me and to make sure my lip-gloss doesn’t smear.”
“Isn’t that Kayla’s job?”
Kayla didn’t look up from the glow of her iPad. “I have the night off, and my family is in town. Also, I’m not her slave.”
Lacey sighed dramatically, “I can’t take her anywhere.”
Sabrina pulled her phone away from her ear. “Lace,” she said, “how do you feel about doing Saturday Night Live sometime next month? Rihanna canceled.”
Lacey tossed her hair over one shoulder, as if she got offers to be on television shows all the time. “Sure, sounds cool.”
Cool? Cool? Her album isn’t even out yet, it’s not even recorded yet, and she’s already landing gigs like SNL . Does the sun orbit around Lacey or what?
“So, you’re coming? I like, totally need you,” Lacey prompted.
“Um, sure?” I said, completely confused about what to say.
Lacey flashed me her million-dollar smile. Honestly, that smile could’ve cost her a million dollars; I’ve never seen teeth that straight and white before. “Great. Kayla will call you later with the details.” She turned to her mom. “Manuel said that Grayson should arrive at eight; that gives me just enough time to make my move.”
Kimberley pulled her sweatpants up. “You go get him, honey. You can do it.”
Really? Can you believe it? Her mom was encouraging her daughter to chase after him? How messed up is that? They left right after I said I’d come along. By that point, my panic started to rise as I realized I’d promised Lacey I’d go to a celebrity-filled party, and I knew Grayson would be there. This is a disaster waiting to happen.
Oh no, the producers are here. It’s time.
Later, 7:00pm—Pink Palm Motel
I was so nervous about recording; but when we got started, the soundproof booth made me feel like I was alone and not like big-shot executives were only a few feet away. When push came to shove, my love for singing helped me get over my fears. Granted, I never want to get on stage at Madison Square Garden, but this will do for now.
Mr. Salazar was thrilled about how the tracks came out today. He came into the sound booth after we finished and thanked me for all my hard work. I was feeling good about myself, until Lacey came into the booth after he left and leaned against the doorframe.
“Hi, Lacey,” I said cautiously.
She snapped her gum loudly. “Do you always wear your hair like that?”
I looked at my reflection in the polished glass. My hair refuses to have any kind of volume or body and hangs around my face like drapes.
“Um, yes? Is it supposed to look different?”
Lacey blew a bubble and somehow managed to not let it pop all over her face. “You can’t be seen around me with hair like that.”
“I’m sorry?” I spat the words out. I wasn’t sure what to say, but I’m pretty sure that apologizing about my personal appearance is painfully passive-aggressive. How do I expect to be self-confident when I can’t even stand up for my hair?
“Come on,” Lacey waved me toward her. “Wendell will probably let me squeeze you in.”
“Squeeze me into what?” I said dumbly as I scampered after her.
Lacey didn’t respond—she already had her iPhone to her ear, barking orders into it. “I know I need an appointment. I have long-standing appointments every two weeks. You can make an exception; I’m a loyal customer.”
I was REALLY confused, but for whatever reason, I followed her through Shell Shocked.
“Great, that’s exactly what I like to hear,” Lacey said. She hung up without even saying
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