‘Hi, Lillian!’ Ivy said. ‘Nice to see you again.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, and waved at Olivia and Brendan, who were staring from their seats. ‘It’s nice to see this house. I can tell I’m going to get good advice from your father.’
‘Definitely,’ Ivy agreed. ‘But what are you doing here?’
‘Your dad wanted to go over some decorating ideas . . . Oh, I love that movie!’ Lillian declared, having caught sight of the TV screen. ‘Let’s get together, yeah, yeah, yeah,’ she sang.
Ivy smiled and then laughed out loud when her dad came hurrying out of the kitchen. He was wiping his hands on the pink floral print apron that someone had given him as a joke when he had almost moved away from Franklin Grove.
‘Lillian,’ he said, a little breathless. ‘Thanks so much for coming.’
She handed over her tray. ‘As promised.’
Mr Vega beamed and it struck Ivy that he seemed a lot more excited than usual to have a lunch guest. ‘Double dark chocolate cookies,’ he said, peeking under the foil. The most amazing chocolate smell filled the air and Ivy had to admit that Lillian’s dessert did seem worth getting excited for.
‘Lunch is almost ready,’ Mr Vega said. ‘Ivy, will you take all our guests into the dining room?’
Ivy was surprised. She had been expecting finger foods at the kitchen counter, not a sitdown meal. ‘Uh, sure. You heard him, layabouts,’ she said to Olivia and Brendan, who were still lounging in front of the TV. ‘Right this way,’ she said to Lillian, with a little bow.
As they walked through the entryway, past the suit of armour, Lillian said, ‘So, girls, how did you like last night?’
‘It wasn’t exactly my scene,’ Ivy replied. ‘But I think Olivia could get used to it.’
Olivia grinned. ‘I wonder if there were any good photos of me.’
As they reached the dining room, Ivy saw that the candles were lit down the long oak table. Mr Vega was definitely out to impress. After all, it wasn’t every day that a Hollywood director came to lunch.
Just as they sat down, the doorbell chimed again.
‘I’ll go,’ Ivy volunteered, wondering who else her dad had invited over.
When she swung open the door, Sophia hurtled inside like a whirlwind. ‘We did it! We did it!’ she yelled.
Before Ivy could ask what on earth was going on, Mr Vega popped his head out of the kitchen. ‘Is that Sophia shouting?’
‘Sorry, Mr Vega,’ Sophia replied, adjusting her skull-print messenger bag. ‘I hope you don’t mind me barging in, but I’ve got some exciting news.’
‘No, no,’ he replied. ‘Come through to the dining room. We’re just having lunch.’
Sophia grabbed Ivy’s hands, and bounced. Actually bounced.
‘Sophia?’ Ivy said warily, knowing something was up. Her friend did not, under any circumstances, bounce.
‘I want to tell you and Olivia at the same time!’ Sophia scuttled off towards the dining room, leaving Ivy to trail after.
‘Ta da!’ Sophia called, pulling out a stack of magazines and waving them in the air.
‘What is it?’ Olivia said, standing up from her chair.
Sophia slapped each magazine down one by one: the LA Daily, StarWatch, Hollywood Happenings. Then she started flipping through the pages.
‘There!’ she declared, pointing to a spread on The Groves premiere with a big shot of Olivia, posing in her dress.
‘Eeee!’ Olivia squealed. ‘It’s me!’
‘And me.’ Sophia pushed down the page, so they could see the words in tiny type just inside the fold of the paper: ‘Photo by Sophia Hewitt.’
‘Olivia Abbott, supporting actress in the film, looked sharp and sparkling with her cut away dress,’ Ivy read. ‘Hey, that counts as a good review!’