Secrets of My Hollywood Life #5: Broadway Lights (19 page)

BOOK: Secrets of My Hollywood Life #5: Broadway Lights
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"Congrats, Kaitlin, on
The View
," she manages. She fiddles with her sweater, pulling the cardigan tight around her small frame.

"Thanks." I swallow, bracing myself for what she's going to say next. She will say something, I'm sure.

"I've always wanted to be on one of those silly American talk shows. So mindless but fun," Riley adds. "Right up your alley, I suppose. Have fun." She grabs her bag and starts to head offstage, hesitates, then turns back. "Some advice: during your big scene on the telly try not to look so pained, okay? You still tend to look like you need to go to the loo every time you emote something serious. Have you noticed that?" I shake my head before I can stop myself. "I thought you would have sorted it out by now, but I guess not. Bye!"

"Don't let her get to you." I hear Dylan and I turn around. He runs a hand through his close-cropped hair and I watch the action almost as if it is in slow motion, then I turn away quickly. Austin. Think about Austin. "She fancies your gig on
The View
. Totally jealous."

"You think?" I'm afraid that slow-mo thing will happen again, so I don't dare look at him. "I don't think she's jealous of anyone. It's hard to be jealous when you think you're the finest theater actress alive."

Dylan chuckles. "True. So are you still having that nightmare where you're onstage naked?"

"I didn't have it last night, actually." Dylan knows all my fears about live theater. The naked acting gig is my latest nightmare. I think Dylan was actually amused by the idea. He gets a twinkle in his eye whenever I bring it up.

"Good." Dylan surveys me. "Forest is right. You were worried about bits and bobs, but it's all good. You're ready. We can get together before then if you really want to rehearse some more, but you don't need it. We should celebrate. Maybe over lunch tomorrow? There's this great restaurant near my flat."

I know I should say no, but I don't want to. Hanging out with Dylan is fun. "Lunch it is, then."

My phone is vibrating and I pray it's Austin. I missed our scheduled phone call last night. We decided to set up a time to talk since we've been so bad about spontaneous chatting. I was busy shopping last night at this cute little boutique Nadine and I found I didn't hear my phone. I look at the caller ID. It's not Austin. "It's Sky." I sigh. "I should really take it."

"Absolutely." Dylan's sympathetic face makes my heart flutter. "Don't want to leave her hanging. She's cheeky."

"See you tomorrow." I hurry out the side door to the theater where Rodney and Nadine are waiting with the driver and answer the phone. "Guess what? I'm going to be on
The View
on Thursday!"

"K, I have no time for chitchat," Sky snaps, whispering. Her voice is echoing slightly and it sounds like she's hiding in a closet (it wouldn't be the first time), although I can hear faint music in the background. "This is important! I need you to listen instead of going on and ON and on about mindless details that I could care less about."

Ah, I'm talking to
that
Sky today. "Fine. What's going on?" I ask, and wave to Nadine and Rodney as I slide inside the air-conditioned car, which is a sharp contrast to the humidity outside. New York really is sticky. Thankfully all the tall buildings cast big shadows so the sun doesn't beat down on you. Still, my choice of denim capris doesn't seem like such a good idea all of a sudden. It's a good thing I texted Nadine earlier and asked her to bring my T-Bags teal floral batwing-sleeved dress to change into. "And why are you whispering?"

"I'm in the bathroom at Geisha," she explains. I hear a toilet flush. "My agent is waiting for me at the table to give him a decision. I told him to come prepared with three offers."

"Didn't you make that demand last night?" I feel a huge rush of panic. She's got options already? "I told you, the offers are going to come flying in after Saturday's show. Laney and Amanda told us that."

"I can't take that chance," Sky huffs. I hear a door slam and heels click clacking across a floor. "I want an offer today! And of course, my agent said the same thing as yours. Give it a week, but I don't want to. I want a new job now. So I'm thinking--how do you feel about
Dancing with the Stars
? Or
Celebrity Apprentice
? I have offers from both. Hold on, K!" Her voice drops and I assume she's talking to a bathroom attendant. "Do you have any Aveda hairspray instead of this Suave garbage? My hair only responds to natural oils."

"Sky, have you eaten a bad spicy tuna roll?" I'm completely flabbergasted. "You would never take an offer from either of those shows in a million years!"

"Yeah, but I could start working like tomorrow on their new seasons." Sky sounds a bit crazy. "Back on a set! Tomorrow! K, I need to get back on a set."

"Calm down," I tell her sternly. "And listen: You are not taking either of those shows. Do you hear yourself?
Dancing with the Stars
?"

Nadine looks up from her BlackBerry, which her short, stubby pink nails are typing away on, and looks at me oddly. "Sky?" she mouths. "Has she lost her mind?"

"Stay calm and wait a few days, do you hear me?"

Nadine butts in, waving her freckled arms wildly. I love that coral scalloped flutter-sleeve top she's wearing. It looks like Juicy Couture, but that's impossible because Nadine would never--oh, that's mine! I think I remember her asking to borrow it. She's meeting a friend for lunch later. "Tell her to think of the other offers you two have that are bringing in exposure," Nadine's voice tumbles out in my ear. "That Fun
nyordie.com
clip you were asked to do sounds like a riot."

"It's decent money, K!" Sky sounds desperate.

HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER NINE: Just because you're a star doesn't mean you make money on a reality show. There are some where you can make an okay paycheck. Like--I can't believe I'm going to say this--
Dancing with the Stars
. Seth told me he had a client who got an initial payout of $125,000 to appear and then between $10,000 and $50,000 for every week he survived elimination. But there are shows like
Celebrity Apprentice
where stars get paid next to nothing. Same with
The Bachelor
, which I hear only covers housing while a person is off doing the show. Too bad there isn't a celebrity
Bachelorette
yet. Sky would love that gig. Maybe Ava and Lauren need reality shows, but Sky does not. I remind her of this and she starts to decompress.

"Okay, I'll wait." I hear another door open and then much more noise. She must feel safe enough to go back to her table. "I don't know what I was thinking. If
you're
not taking an offer like that, then I certainly shouldn't."

"Mmm-hmm." I roll my eyes. Nadine can't hear what Sky is saying, but she laughs anyway. From my expression she can tell it's something quintessentially Sky. As soon as I hang up this phone, I am pulling my hair into a loose side ponytail to help beat the late June heat.

When that's done, I sit back and let the air-conditioning continue to cool me down. Thank God Sky didn't ask where I was going. If I had told her I was meeting Liz, she would have wanted to come too--just to torture Liz. That's what the two of them seem to like to do best. Get on each other's nerves. But my loyalty still lies with Liz, and today is a best-friend outing.

We pull up to Tortilla Flats on Washington Street and I hop out. Liz is already sitting outside at one of the Mexican joint's rickety sidewalk tables. I sort of wish we were sitting inside, but I know it's too nice a day to do that. Besides, last time we were here this loud group of women sat for hours at a table and we could barely hear ourselves think. The inside of Tortilla Flats is so much fun to look at. It's tiny, cramped, and sort of dingy, but it has the coolest decor. Every inch of the walls and ceiling is covered with Ernest Borgnine memorabilia, eccentric framed photos, twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling, and streamers. Liz sees me and waves, but her face looks too tired to actually smile. Her ensemble is the one making all of the statements today. She has on a bright green slip dress that is big and boxy and flows in the light breeze. I kiss her cheek, excuse myself to go to the bathroom (that car ride was too long!), change into my T-Bags dress, and then rejoin Liz.

"Hey!" I make my way to our table. "Why the long face?"

"I hate another one of my teachers." Liz grumpily munches on a tortilla chip. She dunks another into the salsa and it crumbles, which only seems to aggravate her more. "He called on me in class and I got the answer wrong and he asked me if I got it wrong on account of the fact I was too busy partying with celebrities to do my homework! I wasn't going to let it slide, of course, so I politely asked what he was referring to and he mentioned the photo of me out with you at the
SNL
after-party. As if that has anything to do with my class attendance! It was a Saturday night."

"What is with people hating celebrities?" I hand her a menu. I already know what I'm getting. We've been here twice already and both times I got the queso dip to start and the cheese enchilada platter. "He's just jealous because he wasn't invited to the
SNL
after-party and you were."

"I don't think so." She shakes her head, and her large hoop earrings whip around like they're going to fly off. "They hate Hollywood people."

"Who does?"

"Everyone." Liz's face crumbles, her peach-glossed mouth slipping into a frown. "The other people in the workshop--who make little comments about me being from Holly-WOOD land. And the teachers act as if
I
think I deserve more props because I'm from there and my dad is in the business. I just want a fair chance, you know?"

I nod. I so know. It's exactly how I feel about trying Broadway. I pray the critics this Friday night judge me on my actual performance, not the number of articles I've headlined in
Hollywood Nation
. "How'd you do on your pigeon piece?"

"I got a B," Liz says stiffly. Her face is flushed and I can't tell if she's mad or just hot. Her curly hair is down and frizzing all over the place. I'm trying to resist the urge to hand her a hair elastic.

"That's good, no?" I try to sound upbeat. I already know the answer: It's not when you're Liz and you expect straight As. She just glares at me. "The next one will be an A. Did you find a subject yet?" She shakes her head. "Forget their feelings about L.A.! Prove them wrong about Hollywood land or whatever they call it. I can be your next subject if you want. You can follow me around the day of the opening. Believe me, I'll display a whole range of emotions that will knock their socks off."

"That's not a bad idea," Liz admits, grinning for the first time today. "I'll show them what Hollywood is really like. It's harder than they think!"

"Darn straight!" I laugh.

"This workshop is tougher than I thought it would be." Liz sighs and plays with the half a dozen gold bangles on her wrist. "Maybe I'm wrong about NYU. What if I can't cut it?" Liz asks seriously. "There are some great writing programs and directing workshops on the West Coast too, you know. Maybe I should look at some colleges near home."

"Did your brain just fry from the hot salsa?" I sound startled, I know it. "You've wanted to come east forever!"

"Now that I'm east, I'm thinking I'm more of a West Coast girl," Liz says longingly. "Do you think that's bad?"

"I'm definitely a West Coast girl," I realize. I love it here, but it's exhausting! "But I haven't loved NYU forever either, the way you do. Hey, at least you're trying it now rather than calling your dad freshman year and begging him to let you come home."

Liz grabs another tortilla chip. "Good point."

We wind up staying at Tortilla Flats for almost two hours and then head over to the Tory Burch boutique to do some shopping. We both pick up the same playful blue-and-white floral pleated skirt. Liz gets a pair of funky three-inch-high beige sandals, and I pick up a green and white striped harbor shirt that I'll wear to one of the dozen Hampton events Mom keeps hounding me about. I curb my shopping there. I finally paid off my credit card bill from my shopping disasters last spring with Lauren and Ava.

"Dessert?" Liz hoists her shopping bag over her bare shoulder. "We worked up a sweat trying on all that stuff."

"I guess if we made the long walk to Magnolia Bakery and then back to the apartment, we would burn some calories," I put in quickly. "Let's do it."

"I spoke to Josh before you got to lunch," Liz tells me as we walk. "He says he spoke to Austin this morning."

"At least someone did," I let slip. Liz gives me a surprised look. "Sorry. I'm just frustrated. Our schedules are so opposite that we barely have time to talk, and then sometimes when we do talk we're griping about not talking enough."

"You're seeing him this weekend and that will make up for all the bad phone calls." Liz puts her arm around me, but it's hard to walk this way.

"I guess." I shrug. "I want to talk to him the way we've always talked, you know? I want him to know about Riley and what it's like being in this huge, cavernous theater and having to learn how to project my voice and wear a mic the whole time. But we barely have time to talk as it is and when we do, he doesn't ask about the show."

"So bring it up to him," Liz suggests.

"He should bring it up," I say stubbornly and feel myself start to speed up. Liz's arm slips off my shoulder. That's another thing I've noticed about living in New York. I sort of speed walk everywhere. You can't help yourself. Everyone tends to move fast. At least I've started wearing the right shoes for all this walking. I have a new pair of Havaiana flip-flops that I leave in my bag and take everywhere. "Shouldn't he? I mean, Dylan asks me how I'm feeling all the time."

"Kates," Liz warns. "Watch yourself there."

I blush. "There's nothing to worry about. I love Austin. I just miss him a lot."

"You guys will be okay." Liz sounds so sure of herself. I wish I was. "When does he fly in? Friday?"

I nod. "His mom and Hayley are meeting him here. Mom suggested they stay at the Soho Grand, which I'm not sure is the Meyers' style, but at least it's really nice. Sky promised to look after them since I'll be so busy on Friday." Liz raises her eyebrows, but I let it go. "They don't leave till Monday afternoon, so during the day I'll have loads of time to show them around." I pause. "Except for Saturday when I have a matinee. And the night performances, but other than that."

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