Secrets of My Hollywood Life: There’s No Place Like Home (2 page)

Sky turns on her charm. “We really are sorry! It won’t happen again. Thank you for being so decent about breakfast too. I’m
going to tell my agent how great this experience with you was.” Sky glances in my direction. “He said if we liked you we could
probably suggest you for our future commercials and then maybe even a guest directing spot on this little show K and I are
working on. Maybe you’ve heard of it?
Small Fries
?”

Preston’s expression is unmistakable. His whole pale face seems to shine, and his eyes are like saucers. “Of course I’ve heard
of
Small Fries
! That’s why I took this commercial, you know. My kids loved the pilot and said I had to work with you two. Everyone is talking
about it.” He scratches his goatee. “Guest directing, huh? You know, we all need time to warm up.” Preston looks at Sky, who
pretends to be very innocent. “Don’t worry about those chuckles! I want you two to have fun!” He laughs and slaps Sky’s bare
shoulder. She gives him a dirty look, then stares down at that darn dress again to check the beading. I raise my eyebrows
at her while Preston prattles on. “Wow,
Small Fries
? I, um, yeah, tell the studio to call me. Anytime. Day, night. My phone is always on vibrate.” He turns away, his clipboard
in hand. “You girls take your time—when you’re ready for that last shot, I’m ready!”

“We’re ready!” I say in my best cheerleader voice.

“God, he’s a tool,” Sky mumbles when he is too far away to hear. I hit her.

“Um, the dress?” She points one long, French manicured nail at the beading. “K, I get the nice girl thing, but to everyone?
It’s not Preston’s money that is being spent on overtime, and seriously, we didn’t do that many takes.” I give her a look.
“Okay, maybe we did a few more than we should have, but who cares? We were having fun, weren’t we?” She sort of smiles. “We
really do work well together.”

“Aww… Sky.” I hug her stiff frame. “I love working with you too.”

“I didn’t say
love
,” Sky clarifies.

I frown. “Do you really think we should be offering guest spots on
Small Fries
already? Yes, the pilot was huge, but…”

“K, I keep telling you to stop worrying. Our show is here to stay. Everyone thinks so!” Sky plays with the big, jeweled ring
on her finger. “You have to play to your strengths.”

“You mean like you?” I tease. “Should I offer the cop an autograph when I’m pulled over for driving forty miles an hour in
a twenty zone?”

Nadine and I carpooled with Sky this morning because Rodney, my driver and security, is doing stunt work for a commercial
of his own today. Everyone in Hollywood seems to have two careers—acting, and whatever they do when they’re not acting so
they can pay the rent.

“Maybe you should, but first you need a license.” Sky’s long face is devilish.

“Nice.” I blush. “I’m going for my road test in six weeks.”

“You’ve been saying that for two months!” Sky reminds me. “K, you’re totally going to pass. You’ve been practicing for ages.
And even if you slip up and hit a road sign, you’re going to get your license. The DMV won’t flunk an Emmy nominee!”

“I don’t want special treatment,” I insist, looking down at the scuffed floor. “I want to get my license the way everyone
else does.”

“Yeah, yeah, real girl versus actress. I know your deal.” Sky winks at me. “Save the sweet talk for your next
Seventeen
interview.”

I’ll fix her. “Oh, you mean my cover story for
Small Fries
?”

Sky’s eyes widen and her face gets red. “I can’t believe you’d do a cover for our show without me!”

“Gotcha. You’re stuck with me.”

“K!” Sky wails. “That was mean! Anyway, I wouldn’t really call it stuck.” Sky grins. “Now let’s get this over with so we can
go have steak! And hash browns! I’ll pay for it later with my trainer.” She eyes my backside skeptically. “Hmm… maybe you
should join me too. You could use a good workout.”

I don’t say anything. Pick your battles, Nadine always says. I don’t tell Sky that I don’t mind doing more takes either. Pretending
to be on an ocean liner is fun. Especially when you’re with a friend.

Sky yells over her shoulder, “We’re ready, Preston!”

“Great, let’s go for it,” Preston says and heads to his camera.

Sky and I take our marks on the ship’s bow, and the extras close in around us. The violinist starts to play again, and a couple
clinks wineglasses. When the wind machine hits my face, I know it’s time. Big smile, perfect pose, act happy. It’s not hard
to do.

Preston lifts his megaphone. “And action!”

I can hear Peter Frimmons, the network top dog, speak to the crowd of journalists visiting the
Small Fries
set through the crack in the soundstage door, and my stomach is doing excited flip-flops. Peter is gushing—
gushing
—about our show. A new show that just aired last night! I don’t think I’ve ever heard a network executive go on record and
say: “I’ll give up my bonus if this show doesn’t make the top ten.” And Pete just did!

“Can you believe Fritz flew all these writers out to L.A. to meet us?” Sky asks me as we huddle together outside the soundstage
doors. We’re eavesdropping and hoping not to be noticed. “He really must think
Small Fries
is his key to owning a small island off the south of France if he’s spending this much dough on us.”

The network really is pulling out all the stops for
Small Fries
. They’ve invited major entertainment journalists from around the country to watch us tape a scene and interview us in person.
But even before this meet and greet, the early press for the pilot has been real good. Not that I want to get too ahead of
myself. We just debuted last night, and we don’t have final numbers yet. Seth says I shouldn’t worry. He smells a hit.

“Why are you smiling so big?” Sky asks suspiciously. She looks every bit the college freshman in a really cute but simple
green scoop-neck top and dark denim jeans. Her black hair is actually pulled back in a Blair Waldorf–style plaid headband.
I never thought I’d see the day she’d wear one of those. “And your neck is getting blotchy,” she adds. “What’s wrong with
you?”

“Nothing. I’m just happy.” I shrug. “I’m in L.A. again, things with Austin are good, and after all those months of worrying
what some lousy publicity would do in my career, here I am, waiting to be introduced to the press as a star on the most talked-about
show of the season.”

Sky rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic and mushy.” She purses her full lips. “But I think you’re right. We’re on a hit, baby!
I don’t think you spend this much green unless you love a show, and I think Fritz really loves us, which is a huge boost.
No one wants another
The Jay Leno Show
snafu on their tanned hands.” We both wince at the memory.

“And now, I’d like to bring out the
Small Fries
cast!” Pete says, and I hear the applause. “First up, Ian Adams as Gunther!” Ian, my wacky costar, jogs out, his brown, curly
mop of hair bouncing as he goes. Ian is just as nutty as his character, and every bit as charismatic. He’s slightly gawky
too, being so tall and thin, like a pro basketball player, with huge feet. This is his first sitcom, but he did a failed pilot
last season and before that had some bit parts in a few Judd Apatow films.

“Brendan Walk as Edison!” Brendan is the next to fly past me, but he walks instead of runs onto the soundstage, taking his
time and savoring the applause. Brendan is nothing like the tightly wound R.A. he plays on
Small Fries
. Incredibly good-looking with short, light brown hair, brown eyes, a strong, angular face and body, and a deep voice that
makes the extras melt, he’s slightly cocky too, having just finished shooting a potential blockbuster with George Clooney
and Brendan’s so-called best bud, Robert Pattinson.

“Kayla Parker as Zoe!” Pete yells, as if he’s introducing the Jonas Brothers. As Kayla saunters past me, I hear whistles.

“Show-off, ” grumbles Sky. Kayla is gorgeous, and Sky is a tad jealous, even if she won’t admit it. Kayla is the classic Barbie
doll come to life. Tall, blond, and thin, with measurements that would make even the
Sports Illustrated
swimsuit models envious. Kayla is definitely the show hottie. She’s also a model-turned-actress doing her first show and
as such, her face is definitely the draw. Her acting, not so much. Sky, of course, likes to harp on that.

“Sky, stop pouting,” I tell her lightly and fidget with the drop-waist peach silk tunic by Twenty8Twelve that my microphone
is hidden in. I’ve got on black leggings and tall Gucci black buckle boots too. Our show stylist has the cutest clothes for
us to wear. It’s all stuff I wear in everyday life too, so sometimes I forget whose clothes are whose! “Pete said you get
announced last, which means you’re the most important person in our cast.”

This makes Sky smile. She smooths her dark hair, making sure not to get any strands caught in the dangling green gem earrings
she’s wearing, and stares down at her feet. She’s wearing Tory Burch ballet flats. I’m not sure the average college freshman
could afford those, but Sky is happy to have them on. “I know you put Pete up to it.” Sky’s eyes flash at me, and I play innocent.

I did put Pete up to it. He wanted us to walk out together, but I thought Sky could use an ego stroke. She lost out on a
Vanity Fair
cover this week to Scarlett Johansson and she’s been a little depressed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insist and make sure my ponytail is in tight. Last week during filming it fell
out, and we had to stop rolling.

“Please help me welcome Kaitlin Burke as Hope!” Pete’s voice rings in my ears.

I wink at Sky and then run out from the back of the soundstage, forcing the reporters to turn around. I stand next to Brendan
and Kayla in front of the dorm room set while the media applaud. We have four sets total—Hope and Taylor’s dorm room, Brew,
a coffee hangout on campus, the R.A. room, and the cafeteria. (We have other sets too, but those are put up and ripped down
as needed.) Above my head are hidden lighting fixtures, and in front of me is the camera crew. We also do some scenes outdoors
on the back lot so that our show will appear more “real.”

Originally
Small Fries
was supposed to be a multicamera comedy taped in front of a live audience. Then suddenly single-camera shows became all the
rage (think
Modern Family
), and our producers quickly retooled us. I would have been happy either way, since I’m used to the live audience thing thanks
to the Broadway play I did last summer,
Meeting of the Minds
. I used to get worried when producers and studios retooled projects, but now I realize they second-guess themselves just
like I do. The biggest mistake the networks ever made (in my opinion) is still fresh in everyone’s mind.

I’m talking about Leno-Conan gate.

If you thought it looked messy from your living room, you should have seen what was going on here in town. There was Team
Coco (aka Conan) and Team Jay, and it felt like everyone had an opinion and their secrets.

HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER TWO: For all the joking Sky does about collecting a nice paycheck, at the end of the day, good work
is not about the money. The Leno-Conan debacle made Hollywood remember that. You had two guys who loved what they did and
despite the payouts they would have gotten to probably go away quietly, neither of them did. There was Conan, who obviously
loved his new gig very much and was sad to see it go, and then there was Jay, who has so many millions he could have retired
years ago and avoided all this negativity. And yet he didn’t want to go away either. That’s what I want: to love a job so
much that it’s not about the money, it’s about the love of the work. I think
Small Fries
could be that work.

“And finally Sky Mackenzie as Taylor!” Pete says, and all of us—the reporters and the rest of the cast—applaud for Sky. I
don’t know Brendan, Ian, or Kayla that well yet, but they seem cool. For now we’re all pretty stiff and polite with one another.
Everyone is constantly saying things like “Great take!” I worked with most of the same people on
FA
for almost a decade, so it felt like a family, but this could be one too if we’re on the air long enough.

God, I hope we are.

“Before we start taping,” Pete tells the large group, “the
Small Fries
’ executive director has an announcement to make that is so important we wanted to share it with the cast and all of you at
the same time.”

Sky and I look at each other, and I feel my stomach flip-flop again. They wouldn’t call the executive director out in front
of critics unless the news was HUGE.

The group quiets down—you can practically hear recorders click on—and our show runner, Amy Peterson, walks out in a beautiful
khaki pantsuit and matching Anna Sui heels. “Hi, everyone,” says Amy, who looks like a tiny gymnast. She’s barely five feet—shorter
than me!—and has a hip brown haircut that is long in the front and shaved short in the back. “I’m glad you could join us for
Small Fries
’ third episode taping. As you know, our show debuted last night.”

I inhale and Sky’s and my hands touch. We’ve been on set all day, and everyone who works on
SF
has been asking/talking/whispering/wondering the same thing: Were our ratings good enough to make it another week? Being
a critical darling is great, but it’s not going to keep you on the air forever. You still need good ratings. We’ve been worried
because we were up against
Megan
, Megan Moynahan’s hit sitcom. The early numbers Seth got this morning looked good, but nothing was official till this afternoon.
Everywhere I look—from the camera crew to the grip, to the P.A.s, to the cast—everyone is holding their breath. I look at
Amy’s face, and she breaks into a smile.

“
Small Fries
was the most watched show of the night!” Amy practically screams, unable to hide the enthusiasm in her usually reserved voice.
“Not only that, but in the key eighteen to thirty-four demo, it beat
Megan
in the eight thirty PM hour.”

Brendan fist pumps the air, and Kayla throws herself at Brendan. “We’ve survived another week!” I squeal and hug Sky. “Another
few weeks like this one, and we’ll get a full-season pickup for sure.”

“Survived? We’re beating
Megan
.” Sky sounds giddy. “I knew we would! It’s their fourth season, and that show is going down!”

I stop jumping up and down. “We’ve only beat
Megan
once.” I bite my lip. Ratings talk makes me nauseous. I’m not used to worrying about it.
FA
was on forever and was so popular that whether we were number five for the week or thirty-five in the ratings, I knew we
weren’t in danger of being cancelled. “This was just our first week. What if no one tunes in next week?”

“You
can
get excited, K,” Sky tells me, sounding pumped herself. “Numbers like this out of the gate are a good thing.”

“You’re right,” I say and start jumping around again. It feels too good to stop. “I just want us to do well. I like it here,
and I never thought I’d like anything as much as
FA
. It’s not home or anything, but it’s a lot of fun and doesn’t feel like work and…”

“Rambling,” Sky says, pointing a long, red fingernail at my mouth. “This show rocks, and so do we. I’m sure we’re going to
get bigger and better.” She looks around. “They wouldn’t be doing all this otherwise. Amy is going to have us do a zillion
more interviews and TV appearances next week to keep the momentum flowing. You’ll be too tired by Wednesday to even freak
out about this anymore.”

Very true. Nadine told me this month we’re doing news shows, radio shows, print interviews, and Sky and I were on
The View
on Wednesday because they’re shooting in L.A. Normally I’d be exhausted just thinking about all that smiling and saying “I
love
Small Fries
!” over and over, but I’ll do anything, even go on QVC and sell T-shirts, if it means making this show work.

It’s still mind-boggling to me that we’re even on the air already when it’s only November. When I got back from New York in
August and officially signed on, we were slated to be a mid-season replacement show. We quickly shot the pilot, and execs
loved it so much they aired it straight away, right after, believe it or not, an episode of
Dancing with the Stars.
(As much as it kills me, that confounded show is popular! I’m
still
never doing it.) Networks have found doing a special VERY early “sneak peek” of an upcoming show can bring in big buzz, which
is exactly what happened when they aired our pilot for the first time. Our ratings were through the roof, we got a fast-tracked
November premiere date, and suddenly everyone wants in on
SF
, as Sky and I have started to call it (it’s our own personal ode to
FA
).

“We’re going to set up the scene you’re going to see today, and then we’ll do interviews,” Amy tells the reporters. “We’ll
break for a half hour first to set up. See you in a few!” I use the time to run back to my new dressing room and dial Laney
and Seth. My phone is already ringing when I get there.

“You heard the news, right?” It’s Seth, my agent, and he’s practically crying. “I told you this was a winner! Didn’t I say
this was the one? Your mom was happy, of course, but you know her. She couldn’t come out and actually thank me for pushing
TV again. She was too busy asking whether you will get a raise.” Seth laughs. “Let’s survive the next few weeks first, shall
we?”

“Absolutely.” I take a swig of the sparkling water I left on my dresser earlier. I also grab a few Sour Patch Watermelons. It is so nice having a craft services cart in my life again!

“KEVIN! Line two is ringing!” I hear Seth yell to his assistant. “Sorry, shining star. I’ll see you Sunday night for dinner.
I know you have that cover to shoot for
Entertainment Weekly
, so don’t worry about the time. I’m sure I can persuade the kitchen at the Polo Lounge to stay open late if I have to.”

Laney is beeping in, but someone is knocking at my door, so I let her call go to voicemail (she hates when I’m talking to
two people at once even though she does it all the time). The knocker must be Nadine. She had some errands to run for me off
the lot. Before I can reach the door, it flies open.

“We just got a full-season pickup!” my younger brother, Matty, screeches. He’s in costume and covered in fake blood. “They
just ordered the back thirteen episodes!”

I jump up and hug him lightly to avoid staining my own costume with red dye number thirteen. “That’s awesome! Are you really
surprised? You guys have been killing the competition.”