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walked down the steps of the LA County Court and shook her hair over her shoulder. It was months since the crash that had put her in hospital but luckily a few cracked ribs and a broken arm had been the worst of the damage. Lola had emerged with only a probation sentence, she’d survived yet another stint in rehab, she’d weathered the two lawsuits from the other drivers that night and one thing was clear: Lola had emerged from it all with the potential to be a star.

      A local magazine had acquired her mug shots and suddenly Lola had gained almost cult status in her neighbourhood with people wearing T-shirts with her picture on them. Lola had all the makings of a modern star: glamour, celebrity status and of course being a car crash both literally and figuratively helped. Whoever said there was no such thing as bad publicity clearly knew Hollywood well because in the time it took to write off a one hundred thousand dollar Porsche, Lola Wilde had gone from Hollywood offspring brat to celebutante in her own right. Not since Paris Hilton’s sex tape had any celebrity profile been so utterly transformed overnight. Flanked by Amber and her lawyer Gayle, Lola basked in the LA sunshine and the relief that her liberty was secure. As they climbed into the waiting Escalade with blacked-out windows, Lola gave a sigh of relief.

      “Thank God that’s over.” She turned to Gayle. “Thank you so much.”

      “Don’t thank me, you heard the judge, let’s keep clean and sober and not have to go back in there?”

      Lola nodded, she had no intention of ever going back in there. She turned to Amber.

      “So what now?” Amber smiled one of her mischievous smiles and Lola gave her friend a warning look.

      “We are not going drinking.”

      Amber pouted. “Who said anything about drinking? I’m not going to be your enabler.”

      “OK. So what have you got up your sleeve?” Lola asked, her curiosity piqued but the only response she got was Amber’s smirking profile. Lola watched as her friend tapped into her cell phone.

      “Amb?” Lola asked again.

      “Well, let’s just say that since you’re the new and improved Lola, I’m the new and improved Amber.” Lola grunted.

      “And that tells me what exactly?” Amber gave a small laugh and Lola felt all the more unnerved.

      “You’ll just have to trust me.” Sitting back in the plush leather seats, Lola watched as the freeway gave way to the ocean views of Santa Monica. She thought with foreboding about every other time that Amber had uttered the words “trust me” and she felt a knot of disquiet grow in her stomach. She couldn’t afford to end up in any more trouble.

      They’d dropped Gayle off at her office and finally the Escalade came to a halt outside a nondescript building several streets away from the beach on 7th Avenue.

      “What are we doing here?”

      “You’ll see.” Lola had no choice but to follow Amber as they walked through the cool reception. The receptionist on the desk, a blonde with a pixie cut, immediately stood to attention.

      “Ms Wilde, Mr Longwall is expecting you both.” And with those words Lola had her answer. As they followed the receptionist down another corridor Lola turned to Amber and mouthed a question at her.

      “Tyler Longwall?” But they were already entering a spacious conference room and Lola knew she’d have to wait to get any answers. Behind a huge antique oak desk, Tyler Longwall, surfer dude turned TV presenter turned media mogul in the making, rose and came around to greet them.

      “Amber, Lola, great to see you. Has Peyton offered you anything to drink? Coffee, water, protein shake?”

      “Two diet cokes is fine,” Amber answered for them both as they settled into a plush sofa and faced Tyler.

      “You’ll be wondering why I got Amber to bring you here,” Tyler said. Lola smiled, grateful that he was cutting to the chase. “The thing is, Lola Wilde, I think you have something. I think you have what it takes to be a star.” Tyler let the sentence hang in the air and Lola stared at him wondering how best to react. For a moment, she felt her heart soar, perhaps Tyler Longwall would be the man who made her into somebody, not just Scarlet’s rebellious daughter. And then she was brought sharply to earth. Tyler Longwall didn’t create critically acclaimed actresses; he grew reality TV stars and farmed them out 24-7. There was no quibbling with the numbers, Tyler won ratings battles, but it was a fact that when it came to his brand of entertainment shows, talent was optional. Lola took a deep breath and stared at Tyler’s expectant face. Lola felt a subtle kick at her ankle from Amber who was practically glaring at her.

      “She’s just overwhelmed,” Amber said and there was a small laugh between the three of them. Lola took a sip of the coke that the receptionist had quietly set down.

      “How would you do it?” she asked. “How would you make me a star?” Her curiosity had got the better of her; it always did, Lola thought ruefully.

      “Everything,” Tyler replied. “We’d start small – public appearances, openings, then a one-off fly on the wall documentary, the real Lola Wilde, something like that, tasteful, and then a series, endorsements, perfumes, fashion lines, the sky is the limit. Look at Paris, Nicky, Nicole…”

      “But what would I actually have to do?” Lola asked confused. She hated asking questions that might reveal her to be dumb but she pushed on. “What would I actually be doing?”

      “You’d just have to be yourself.”

      At his words, Lola’s heart sank; the one thing she didn’t want to be was herself.

      “Just think about it, Lola, your profile is high right now, you have to capitalise and monetise. You’ve got people making money off you right now, using your name as a punchline, selling stuff with your image. It’s time for you to make your own money, secure your own future.”

      As Tyler spoke, his fingers moving through the air to punctuate his points, Amber was nodding along and Lola felt her anxiety ease away. His words were working their magic – what she wouldn’t give to have her own money, her own independence. Her trust fund wouldn’t mature till she was thirty and she thought about the way Scarlet used the threat of cutting her allowance off to control her. It was time to earn her own money and get out from under Scarlet. For all her desire to be a mother, for all her good intentions, Scarlet simply hadn’t been able to change. Film roles and being famous had somehow always ended up coming before her child. Lola thought back to all those times growing up when Scarlet had abandoned her with practical strangers, had disappeared on weekend benders with new boyfriends and left Lola alone in the mansion. The only thing Scarlet had ever given freely was her money and even that now she kept threatening to withhold. Lola nodded at Tyler.

      “Do you seriously think we can do this, that you can make me my own money?” Lola asked quietly. Tyler reached across the table and took her small hand in his own.

      “Trust me.”

      And for once Lola let her wariness drift away; she would let Tyler take care of things.

      As they emerged from the building, Amber let out a whoop of excitement.

      “He is going to make us millionaires,” she squealed.

      “Us?” Lola queried. Amber spun around, her hands on her hips, and looking as threatening as a five-foot-nothing woman in primary colours ever could.

      “As your manager, I’ll expect 10% plus expenses.”

      “My manager.”

      “Yes your manager, we agreed this in grade school,” Amber pointed out waspishly. And Lola laughed a rich, loud sound. They had agreed back in grade school that whatever Lola ended up doing, Amber would be her manager. For a fleeting moment, Lola wondered how wise this all was. It was all beginning to feel real and wasn’t there some rule about never doing business with friends or family? Lola brushed the thought away; she and Amber went way back, they knew everything about each other,

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