pain, as if a family death was a lousy excuse to drop a gig. “So, bottom line, we’d like to put you on, in her place.”
“Wow,” I said, my mouth gaping. “That’s fantastic! What does it involve?”
Naomi butted in. “Jane, you leave for France Monday morning and you’ll be there five weeks. It’s a great career move. We’ve booked your ticket, but I’ll understand if you need to say no. It is a little sudden.”
“That’s in. . . like. . . a day,” I said, silently screaming in delight. I even imagined myself circling the room, arm-in-arm with Karl, doing a polka. I gave them an immediate yes.
It was the second best day of my life.
“Get up!” Toni yelled from outside my door. “Jane! Get up! You’re going to miss your plane!”
“I can’t. I won’t. Maybe if I stay here in LA, I can fix this,” I said, smothering my face in my pillow.
Somehow, Toni freed the lock on my door-handle and was now clambering through my bedroom, accidentally kicking over my half-empty box of beloved See’s chocolates.
“If you don’t get on that airplane, and as far away from that sonofabitch, I will kick your ass!” she said, yanking my arm and body from the bed.
I hit the floor with a thump and went limp like a sack of potatoes, then curled into the fetal position. Toni grabbed a chocolate and pressed it into my forehead so hard that truffle cream exploded into my hair.
“Do you really want to pig out on gajillion-calorie chocolates? You won’t get Craig back that way!” It was her attempt at tenderness and understanding. “Not that you’d want him.”
I lunged for the box of chocolates, tossed one truffle in my mouth, and smashed another into Toni’s chest. We burst into giggles, but mine were mixed with tears and self-pity.
“Get in the shower,” she said, swiping chocolate crumbs from her t-shirt, acting mad but chuckling under her breath. “I’ll drive you to the airport. But you have to hurry. You barely have two hours.”
I reluctantly grabbed my robe and another truffle, and made my way to the shower in my underwear.
“I just can’t believe it’s over,” I said to Toni as we pulled up to the airport in her silver convertible.
“Forget him. Just go have fun!” Toni said defiantly.
Other than the three hours this morning when I’d locked myself in my bedroom, refusing to budge, Toni had been consoling me for the past 24 hours—she’d even slept in my chair.
“It’s a new start for you. Forget about that ass,” she ordered. “I always knew Craig was the wrong guy.”
“He is, isn’t he?” I said woefully, wiping the tears from my eyes while forcing myself to believe it. “Totally wrong.”
Deep down, I knew he was wrong for me; I just didn’t want it to be true. I was too caught up in the idea of having an action-hero for a boyfriend. Being attached to someone so profoundly cool was supposed to make me profoundly cool: It Girl and It Boy together forever. My very own Hollywood.
“Do you think it’s because I gained a few pounds while he was in the Himalayas?” I said self-consciously.
I knew I’d truly changed when turning down an In-’N-’Out burger had become a source of pride, not loss, and I had convinced myself that I actually enjoyed my Tic Tac renaissance. This was all pre-Craig break-up. Now, all I could think was: Bring it on—the See’s, the burgers, the friggin’ carbs.
“You haven’t gained weight! You’re athletic! Now, I swear, if you don’t go to France and have meaningless sex with some hot crew dude, I will personally swim the Atlantic and flog you,” Toni said, stroking my hair, trying to make me feel better.
“Flog?” I said. “Seriously, did you just use the word flog?” Toni had finally made me smile.
“Shut up,” she said. “Remember, these big-scale reality crews are all hedonists. They party and mack down the minute the cameras are off. I should know,” she snickered, “and I want you in there!”
Before her six months on Purrfect Life, Toni had worked on Heavenly Hotel as a PA, where there was intensive behind the scenes hoochie-coochie, including Toni and one of the male contestants. She made her move after he got the boot. But it was still considered a giant no-no. Naturally, Toni got away with it. That and more made her an expert.
“Remember, Jane, any guy who breaks up with you because his career takes precedence is a self-centered shit-ball. That bastard