Legally Blonde Read online

  Legally Blonde

  Amanda Brown

  Copyright

  Diversion Books

  A Division of Diversion Publishing Corp.

  443 Park Avenue South, Suite 1008

  New York, NY 10016

  www.DiversionBooks.com

  Copyright © 2013 by Legally Blonde Productions, LLC

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Grateful acknowledgment is made to American Broadcasting Companies, Inc. for the use of lyrics from the song “Conjunction Junction.”

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For more information, email [email protected]

  First Diversion Books edition November 2015

  ISBN: 978-1-68230-908-5

  Also by Amanda Brown

  Family Trust

  Chapter One

  Elle Woods glanced at the reflections of her bickering sorority sisters Margot and Serena in her vanity mirror. She sat on a pink-skirted stool with faux fur trim that matched the comforter on her bed, where her Chihuahua, Underdog, was comfortably resting.

  “At least mine won’t sag!” Serena pointed to her saline-enhanced chest. “My boobs are as perky as the day I put them on my credit card!”

  “So what if they’ll never sag,” Margot said, unimpressed. “They’re as hard as rocks.”

  “They’re also blocking the only natural light in this room,” Elle whispered to Underdog, who looked up sympathetically. Both Underdog and Elle had heard Serena and Margot’s argument countless times before. Elle refused to get involved, because her father, the trendy Beverly Hills plastic surgeon Dr. Wyatt Woods, known among the nip and tuck crowd as “the Best for Breasts,” had done Serena’s work. Anyhow, Elle had a more pressing concern.

  “They’re not hard. They’re firm!” Serena said, and stamped her foot. There wasn’t half an inch between Serena and Margot, squared off chest to chest.

  Margot’s lips, pouty from last year’s lip injections, were set in a glossy purple smile that matched the Nike swoosh on her little-used cross-trainers. Despite the fact that Margot had undergone enough plastic surgery to be on a frequent-slicer plan, she told Elle that she prided herself on the fact that she had never let a doctor touch her boobs. Clinically, anyway.

  “Have you guys totally forgotten? Tonight could be the night!” Elle shouted to get Serena’s and Margot’s attention. “I need to look perfect. I want everything to be exactly right tonight!”

  “Of course I didn’t forget,” Serena said, turning her back on Margot. “I even have a Cosmo tip for you. I read that you can totally put someone at ease by matching their body language. The article said that Jennifer did that with Brad and it made it a lot easier for him to pop the question, since he was kind of nervous beforehand.”

  “Warner has to propose to you tonight, Elle,” Margot chimed in. “Not only is tonight your third anniversary, but I checked your chart and masterful Saturn has begun a long transit through Taurus. It’s your time to make life-altering decisions.”

  Elle appraised her appearance once again in the mirror and decided she needed a bit more blush. Her long blonde hair gleamed and framed her heart-shaped face. Her flawless fair complexion was set off by huge deep blue eyes that shone with kindness, and her size 2 figure was poured perfectly into her red slip-dress.

  “In fact, I’m way ahead of you, Elle,” Serena said. “Look what I picked up today!” She held up a copy of In Style Weddings with a shot of J-Lo on the cover.

  “Oh my God!” Margot shrieked. “Not that one. Don’t you know anything? J-Lo never should have done that cover! There’s an In Style Weddings curse. Like three of their cover brides, including Courtney Thorne-Smith, were divorced before the issue hit the stand!”

  “That’s true,” Elle said, “but that was totally sweet of you, Serena.”

  A voice over the sorority house intercom suddenly interrupted them just as Margot pulled out the latest issue of Brides magazine: “Warner’s here, Elle.”

  “Keep your fingers crossed!” Elle said to Serena and Margot as she checked her reflection again, still unsure about the dress she had chosen. “Are you sure this is it?” she asked her friends for the fourth time.

  “Maybe you should go with pink. It is your signature color,” Serena said. “Ow!” Margot had given her a sharp elbow to the ribs.

  Elle stood frozen, suddenly unsure of her choice. Would it be the dress she would want to tell her great-grandchildren about when she regaled them with stories about the night Warner proposed? What if it looked dated and stupid by then?

  “No, Elle, that’s it,” Margot said. “I’m positive! Red is the color of confidence and it matches your aura.”

  “Well, I don’t want to look like I expect anything.” Elle tucked her smooth golden blonde hair behind her ears, checking that the diamond earrings Warner had given her for her birthday were securely in place.

  “He’ll ask. You know it’s coming, Elle,” Serena said, sounding mildly annoyed. “Anyway, Margot’s right. Red is better.”

  “Group hug!” Margot announced, and suddenly Elle was sandwiched between the biggest and most expensive boobs in the Delta Gamma house.

  Warner stood waiting in the foyer. His tall, blonde, and handsome looks never failed to leave all of Elle’s sorority sisters in a stunned silence. As Elle approached him, he pulled her close to him with one arm while smoothly holding a dozen long-stemmed shell pink roses in the other.

  Elle snuggled against him; her smile lit up the room as her delight to be with him radiated from her. She was completely absorbed in the moment. “Mar, will you put these in a vase for me?” she absently asked her friend, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs with the rest of the Delta Gamma house, all trying to look casual while inspecting the couple with magnified intensity and not a little envy.

  “I’ll do it,” Serena said, stepping in front of Margot and making an obvious show for her sorority sisters of tucking In Style Weddings under her arm before she reached for the flowers. “Warner, you look fantastic. Anything special planned for tonight?”

  Warner looked slightly amused by Serena’s comment and gave her a devastating smile.

  “Every night with Elle is special,” he said. He gave Elle a smile, and squeezed her hand. “C’mon, Elle. I don’t want to be late.”

  As Warner guided her through the Delta Gamma front door, Elle looked back over her shoulder at Serena and Margot, who were giving her a big thumbs-up.

  Chapter Two

  Warner held the door of his black Mercedes convertible for Elle, and she slid into the plush oyster-colored leather seat. She gazed up at the sky to make sure the stars were in alignment, as Cosmo had promised they would be. They were. Suddenly she felt completely sure that tonight was the night. They drove for a while in contented silence, the cool air of a California October night blowing the golden blow-dried strands of her hair.

  “I hope you won’t be disappointed, Elle,” Warner said as he exited the freeway. “I know you wanted to go to our favorite place, the Beach House, but I thought we should go to the Ivy tonight, since it’s the place where this all began.” He smiled at Elle in all his perfection and placed his hand high on her thigh.

  “You could never disappoint me,” Elle purred back. She glowed as she placed her unadorned left hand on top of his. “Our first date was one of the most amazing nights of my life.”

  They were stuck in Los Angeles traffic under a Calvin Klein billboard. The model loomed over them, a bronzed work of ar
t. Elle stared at Warner’s golden profile with adoration and thought how lucky she was and how she’d be even luckier by the end of this glorious night. There could be nothing better than spending the rest of her life with Warner Huntington III.

  Elle’s entrance into the Ivy caused a stir. Even here, where every night the restaurant was filled with long-legged blondes and movie stars, her radiant beauty and sweet smile made her stand out. Several men tried to get her attention as she and Warner made their way to their table. Warner wore a look of satisfaction as he observed the other men admiring Elle.

  A waiter of the L.A. variety, who really considered himself an actor, came to take their order with an annoying dramatic flair. “Hi, I’m Zach and I’ve gotta tell ya, we’ve got some fresh fish tonight so good it oughta be against the law!”

  “Actually, we’re ready to order,” Warner said abruptly without looking at the menu or the waiter. Elle and the waiter exchanged puzzled glances, and she began to protest, but was silenced when Warner ordered a bottle of Cristal. He must be so nervous, she thought, and immediately felt sorry for him as he got ready to ask the biggest question of his life. She lowered her head and looked up through her Chanel-enhanced lashes.

  “Tonight is so wonderful, Warner, and you should know, I plan to keep the celebration going all night.” She leaned forward seductively, expecting Warner’s ice blue eyes to meet her smoky stare, but to her amazement, he was gazing distractedly around the room.

  “Is something wrong, lovebug?” Elle asked as the waiter headed toward their table with the champagne.

  “Nothing at all, Elle,” Warner replied, patting her hand as his attention returned to her. He motioned the waiter to pour the champagne. “In fact, things couldn’t be better.” He smiled and took a deep breath.

  Elle just knew this was it. Maybe it was a little odd that Warner wasn’t waiting until after dinner, when the ring could be nestled in crème brûlée, but, she reasoned, he must be too overcome with nerves to wait.

  “Elle,” he began in a low, confident voice, “the last three years with you have been perfect.” Elle sighed in agreement. “Tonight, I want to share the best possible news with you.”

  Elle’s heart skipped a beat, and she took a deep breath to control the urge to blurt out, “Yes! Yes I will marry you!” Warner paused and waited until the waiter finished filling their glasses and left them alone again. “Well first, darling, I have something I want to give to you.”

  Elle closed her eyes and tremulously extended her left hand to Warner, hoping this would help him slip that “something” on her finger. She could hear the pealing of wedding bells in her head and was wondering if she should go with Vera Wang or a completely unknown but soon-to-be-famous dress designer when Warner’s voice invaded her reverie. “I want to give you this reminder of our time together,” he said gently.

  Elle frowned, somewhat disconcerted by the use of the word “reminder.” Why would he call an engagement ring a “reminder”? she wondered. Then she remembered what Serena said Cosmo said about how nervous Brad Pitt had been when he asked Jennifer to marry him, and she smiled at his clumsy word choice. It was so adorable! She closed her eyes again, only to open them again in confusion as she felt Warner turn her left hand over so the palm faced up.

  “Warner, what are you doing?” Elle demanded as she stared at the Cartier ID bracelet she had given to him on their second anniversary. It had been engraved Elle and Warner forever.

  “I thought you’d want me to return it,” he replied sweetly as he closed her palm and brought it to his lips.

  “Return it?” Elle said, jerking her hand back. “Why would you do that?”

  “Well, I knew when you gave it to me that I could never return your feelings, so I thought…” He let his words trail off and licked his lips as he looked around. Elle stared at him in disbelief. His words began to blur and she shook her head to clear her thoughts.

  “What I mean is, I thought now would be a good time to give it back. We’re not going to be together forever, Elle. You know that. It was a sweet thought, but I’ve decided to turn my life around and get serious. I think we should make a clean break before I leave for Stanford Law School.” He paused, waiting for her to respond. When she didn’t and just stared at him he continued quickly. “Oh, right, did I forgot to tell you I’ve decided to go to law school next year? That’s the good news I wanted to tell you.”

  Elle’s mouth was dry. She reached for the champagne flute, but realized her hands were shaking and she couldn’t safely hold the glass without risk of spilling it on her dress.

  “What are you talking about?” Elle’s voice was louder than she intended. Warner looked around the restaurant nervously.

  “When you said you’d always love me were you just being optimistic? And when you said you’d never felt this way about anyone before were you lying? And how could you make a decision about your life, our lives, like law school without telling me? How long have you known?” Her voice was shaky and suddenly her sobbing was uncontrollable.

  “I didn’t lie, Elle,” Warner whispered, trying to make sure Will Smith and Jada Pinkett, seated two tables away, couldn’t hear them. “I never told you that I felt the same way you did, did I? Think about it.” Before Elle could respond he took her hands in his. “Listen, honeybun, this is really hard on me. Can’t you see that? You know how much my family expects of me and the high standards I have for myself—”

  Elle interrupted him by yanking her hands away from him. She glared at him in anger and disbelief, but Warner continued on.

  “I had to ask myself, ‘Warner, is it worth it to go through any more of my life with a girl who will never be serious enough to be my wife or the mother of my children?’ Do you know the courage this took, Elle? How hard it was for me?” He paused for a moment and appraised her cleavage. “Really hard,” he added. He looked down, apparently wounded by his own high standards.

  Elle left the table and turned angrily on her heel, leaving Warner fumbling for his wallet so he could escape the restaurant without any further embarrassment. He threw some money on the table and hurried after her.

  Outside, the valet looked up from the screenplay he was writing long enough to give Elle an appreciative once-over in spite of her tear-blotched face. She was about to ask him to call a cab for her when Warner cleared his throat audibly behind them, and the valet jumped up and ran to get the car.

  “C’mon, Elle,” Warner said. “Let me take you home.” At that moment home was just where she wanted to be, and the faster she could get there, the better. Sullenly, she agreed.

  After what seemed like an eternity to Elle, the car screeched up. Warner barely gave Elle time to close her door before he turned up the volume on the radio and merged into the Friday night traffic on Robertson.

  Elle could not believe what had happened. She stared at Warner’s perfect profile. “This is not happening,” she said to herself. “It’s 2002. It’s the time of Buffy, Charmed, and Charlie’s Angels. Be strong.” Elle imagined Warner meeting up with Buffy in a dark alley and felt a tiny bit better until the violence of the image was shattered by a glimpse of her still-unadorned left hand. She felt trapped in an Aaron Spelling drama where bad things happen to good-looking people.

  Warner had pulled up in front of the Delta Gamma house. When he noticed Elle waiting for him to come around and open her car door as he always had before, he leaned across her, opened the door, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “See ya, Elle,” he said with his hand resting on the shift already in first gear.

  Elle stumbled out of the car and into the house entirely devastated, completely un-Buffy, and resoundingly un-Elle.

  Chapter Three

  Trying hard to hide her devastation, Elle Woods entered the spacious TV room of the University of Southern California Delta Gamma house. Not expecting Elle to come home for at least a few more hours, Margot and Serena were completely engrossed in The Osbournes.

  “I he
ard Kelly Osbourne has an MTV veejay who is seriously into her,” Serena said.

  “Hmmm…that’s cool,” Margot responded, pursing her lips the way she did when she was thinking really hard.

  Glued to the television, they didn’t even hear Elle’s sniffling noises or see her tear-stained face until finally Elle blurted out, “Some sisterhood…you’re supposed to be my best friends. Maybe I should have been a Theta.”

  Serena and Margot looked at their friend and gasped. Mascara streaked Elle’s blotchy, anguished face as she fell onto the couch.

  “Warner…broke…up…with…me!” Elle shouted, her words broken by uncontrollable sobs.

  “You didn’t get the rock?” Margot asked, astonished. She looked as if she might start crying too.

  “It’s not a Kappa, is it?” Serena shrieked, falling to Elle’s side. “I’ll kill them!”

  “No, no.” Elle shook her head. “It’s not another girl…it couldn’t be.”

  As the Delta Gamma social chair, Margot vigorously agreed. “I hereby cancel our annual mixer with Sigma Chi.”

  Elle smiled at Margot, but shook her head sadly. “Margot, forget it. It’s too late.” She sank deeper into the floral chintz couch, resting her chin on her knees, her eyes brimming with tears. “It’s o-o-o-over.”

  Serena and Margot stared at Elle, then at each other in genuine disbelief. If Elle and Warner weren’t getting married, what would become of the rest of them? Everyone knew Elle and Warner were perfect together. They went together like shampoo and conditioner.

  Chapter Four

  Elle, Serena, and Margot went upstairs to Elle’s room, which only a few hours before had been filled with bridal expectations. The room’s cotton-candy-pink walls were almost covered by photos of smiling blonde Delta Gammas at sorority yacht trips and black-tie formals. Tonight, however, the girls looked nothing like their upbeat, glamorous counterparts in the photos.