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“Where are we?” Lenna asked, glancing up the street. It was named Canon. Had she heard of Canon?
Gillian looked at her and made an expression of mock surprise. “Beverly Hills, of course!”
“No, I knowthat.” She’d passed the sign driving in. Dozens of tourists had been standing in front of it, posing.
“It’s the Flats,” Gillian said. She shook her head. “How can you live here for so long and not know about the Flats?”
Lenna shrugged. She wasn’t a Beverly Hills kind of girl.
“I’m not really sure why I’m in LA at all, to be honest,” she admitted. “I think I’d be better suited somewhere else. Quieter, maybe. Less flashy.”
“Like Oregon?”
Lenna gave her a sidelong glance. Had Gillian said Oregon because Rhiannon was in Oregon? She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to talk about Rhiannon anymore. Part of her needed someone to bounce the feelings off of. Another part of her didn’t want their relationship just to be a long Rhiannon bitch session.
They started walking past the mansions. Lenna counted the number of Ferraris in driveways but stopped at four. The streetswere broad, the front lawns perfectly pristine; a lot of the homes were hidden behind gates. For a block or so, Lenna didn’t know what to say. This silence tended to happen when they got together. Gillian had told her she was a big advocate online for other people who had social anxiety; Lenna thought she’d found the account Gillian was talking about, but it was private, and Gillian hadn’t yet accepted her friend request.
“That house there sold for eleven million,” Gillian finally said, pointing at a Tudor on a corner. “And that one across the street sold for twenty-four.”
“You’re better than Zillow,” Lenna joked.
Gillian shrugged. “I’m good at remembering numbers. And, okay, I memorized some of this stuff as conversation topics.”
“Itisinteresting,” Lenna said as what she was certain was a Rolls-Royce passed.
Gillian put her hands on her hips and appraised a Spanish-style home that looked to be at least ten thousand square feet. “Wouldn’t you love to live there?”
“I have no idea how I would afford that.”
“Come on, dream a little!” Gillian nudged her. “Maybe your writing will get you there.”
“Uh, I have topublishsomething first,” Lenna said, hoping that at least this was a segue. As promised, Gillian had assigned Lenna a piece for her magazine,Wellness,about celeb-exclusive drug rehab programs. Lenna enjoyed the research, calling up various facilities and hearing about all of their amenities. This morning, she’d turned in a draft to Gillian’s email, and Gillian wanted to talk to her about next steps. Her heart was pounding. It had been so long since she’d put herself on the line like this—probably not since the journalism program she hadn’t been able to attend.
“I think your piece is great,” Gillian said. “Really well done. My boss will love it.”
Lenna breathed out. “Really? You’re sure?”
“You’re a great writer. I have no idea why they don’t use you forCity Gossip.”
Lenna couldn’t help but grin. It was happening. She was finally writing.
They talked through some revisions, which Lenna was pretty sure she could turn around quickly. She made a mental note to double-check quotes with her sources, too. The sun shone brightly in stripes across the road. The houses gleamed from their emerald lawns. Finally, finally she was going somewhere. Moving forward.
“I just don’t understand why they didn’t throw you some pieces atCity Gossip,” Gillian said again as they rounded up another street. “Rhiannon had a higher position than I do. She could have.”
“She said I needed to take that up with the writers,” Lenna explained carefully. “That I should try and shadow them when they were reporting a story, and then hopefully share a byline. Although…” She stared at the sidewalk. Here was this fine line again.
“We had an argument about it, before Rhiannon left. I thought she was holding me back. She acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about. Like it was out of her control.”
Gillian made a face. “It was absolutely in her control. You know what? I bet she felt threatened by you.”
Lenna blinked hard and then laughed. “I don’tthinkso.”
“Don’t be so sure. I bet she worried you’d realize how good you were and go somewhere else. Somewhere much more high profile. And she’d still be stuck at a gossip magazine.”
Lenna mulled this over.
“She kissed a guy I said I liked,” Lenna said slowly, partly to herself. “And she also stood in the way of me getting writing assignments. Why would she do that?”
