It's not surprising that the mag would get a first look, because Lauren pretended to work there for a time while she filmed her show, so they have a good working relationship and whatnot. You promote me, I'll promote you, and so on and so on until they are both borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance.
From the first glimpse, the book is basically about Lauren's life. Well, I mean, the girl's name is Jane and she wants to be an event planner rather than a fashionista, but it's all basically the same. Same dumb boy names (Brody and Doug in real life, Caleb and Braden in Jane life), and same creeping worries about whether or not anything is real, or just for the cameras. That little twinge of worry is actually vaguely interesting; did LC keep herself up fretful at night, wondering if she got this or that promotion because of the television show? Did she doubt her own merit? I would say yes, because look it's all there in the book!, but um, I'm also pretty sure that Lauren didn't actually write the damn thing. Oh, which is called L.A. Candy. Which is the name of the fictional reality show in the fictional book about a real girl on a fictional reality show. Blergh!
Now let's play guess the fake passage:
Jane felt her blood freeze. Fiona never called Jane into her office unless she was in trouble. It was always something like, "Jane, the last time I checked, ivory and eggshell weren't the same color," or "Jane, is this message from Jeffrey with a J or Geoffrey with a G?" What had she done this time? Either way, she preferred that her humiliating lectures take place in private-just her and Fiona behind closed doors. Guess not today. She frowned at the cameras, which were supposed to be capturing "an average workday." Well, now, the L.A. Candy viewers are going to see my average butt getting yelled at, Jane thought.
"During those three months, you will work harder than you have ever worked before. At the same time, you will have opportunities that you have never had before. And if you succeed, your future as an event planner in this town will be virtually guaranteed."
Fiona leaned back in her seat and stared at Jane, waiting for her answer. Suddenly, Jane noticed that Fiona was wearing makeup. When had the boss lady started wearing makeup?
Sitting at her new desk, feet twitching nervously in navy Tory Burch flats, Jane suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Was it nerves over the new promotion? Or was it something else? Why was Fiona always so nice to her when the L.A. Candy cameras were around, but then so cold and nasty when they were gone? She dialed her friend Melora's number at the record company and prayed that she would answer. Jane needed some advice quick, or else she worried she'd get sick all over her new, cream-colored office on her very first day.
Paolo smiled at her. He had the cutest smile. "Hey, this may be a little forward, but ... could I call you sometime? Maybe we could go out for coffee or something? I just moved here from San Francisco, and I don't know too many people in town."
Jane was taken aback by his boldness. They had met all of 60 seconds ago. Still, he did kinda look like a young Brad Pitt. Besides, when was the last time she'd been on a date? Braden didn't count. She had met him for drinks again at Cabo Cantina over the weekend, to celebrate her being on the show and moving in to a new apartment. It had been his idea. But that wasn't a date. It never was with him. "Sure," she said.
As J.M. Barrie once said, "the printing press is either the greatest blessing or the greatest curse of modern times. Sometimes one forgets which it is."