Page 19 of Broadway Lights


  "I don't like it," Mom protests.

  "It's going to be a disaster if it happens," Laney echoes.

  "I don't want you stalling out and getting water in your engine, sweet pea," Dad agrees. I'm assuming that's a boat analogy. I'll have to decipher its meaning later.

  "I'll get it for you, Kaitlin," Seth says with a smile. "You read it--you all read it--and then tell me what you think. I think Sky's agent is getting a copy this week as well."

  The rest of breakfast is more of the same. Laney enthralls us with tales of a client's recent book tour and a story about how the celeb author flipped out when a bookstore didn't have enough Sharpie colors for to her sign with. Mom talks about meeting Kathy Lee Gifford and how Kathy Lee swore Mom would make a good Today show host fill-in. (Nadine spits iced tea all over the table when Mom says that.) Seth laments the state of the film industry as a whole during a recession and Dad regales us with tales of being on a boat with Beyoncé and Jay-Z last weekend. Finally we pay the check--or I should say Seth does--and Nadine and Rodney and I split off from the group and head uptown to Broadway Dance to take a class. We both jump on our phones as soon as we're in the car--Nadine to confirm a dinner reservation I have for that night with Sky, and me to call Austin. I know it's not our scheduled time to talk, but I need his opinion on the thought of me working with Sky again. Am I nuts for remotely considering this? Is Sky even interested? Am I interested? The last thing I want is to sign on to a project and to be back in Sky Terror Level Orange territory. I dial Austin's room and let the phone ring three times.

  "Howdy!" A girl starts giggling and laughing, which annoys me instantly. "I mean, hey! It's A and R's room."

  "Hi, Amanda." I try to sound very grown up and worldy. "It's Kaitlin. Is Austin there?" I've tried to delicately tell Austin how much it bothers me to hear Amanda answer the phone, but he's either oblivious or he doesn't care. I don't want to get too crazy either since we're on such good terms after his New York weekend. I'm trying not to sound jealous, but it's hard when Austin keeps bringing Amanda up and telling me what a big help she is. Amanda is from Texas and went to the camp the year before so she knows the ropes. Camp tour guide or not, I am not happy about having her play phone cop.

  "Oh, hey, Kaitlin," Amanda sings. I hear someone snort in the background. "Austin just ran down to the café to get us some drinks."

  "Can you tell him to call me back?" I ask, trying to sound pleasant even as I yell over two cabs honking at each other in the midtown traffic. "It's important."

  "Sure thing! Listen, can I ask you something?" Amanda says as someone else whispers something I can't understand. "What's your last name?"

  I pause. Maybe she already knows and is just teasing me, but if she doesn't know, then maybe she should. Maybe she'd back off. "Burke. My name is Kaitlin Burke."

  The phone is silent. "So it is you! We saw your picture in A's room. Pam and I were looking at it earlier and she said that's that girl from Family Affair, but I said nah, A would have told us that. He just says 'Kaitlin.' He never brags about who you are. So you live in Hollywood and stuff?"

  "And stuff," I answer importantly.

  "Really?" Amanda sounds skeptical. "Austin doesn't seem Hollywood enough to date a celebrity, even if he does live in L.A. He's so... normal."

  "He's so nice!" I can hear someone else in the background. That must be Pam. "Austin is cool. Not Hollywoodish."

  "Starstruck is not in his vocab," Amanda continues.

  Okay... "I know that. I love that about him." Amanda and Pam start to giggle. "Do you have a point?" I can't help but snap. I don't need my boyfriend described to me.

  More whispering. What are they, two? "Our point is he's too good for you," Amanda says firmly and Pam snorts.

  "Well, that's not your decision to make." I'm getting loud and my ears are getting hot with embarrassment and anger. "It's none of your business either. Tell Austin I called. Better yet, don't. I'll text him. I am his girlfriend, so I don't need to go through you." I hang up, pressing end angrily.

  Nadine frowns. "Bad call?"

  "Bad call."

  And I'm not sure it will be the last one either.

  Friday, July 3

  NOTE TO SELF:

  Tell A U will call his cell from now on.

  Tonite: Dinner w/ Sky at Butter--11:00 PM. Lame, I know!

  Sat: Hamptons pickup 7 AM. Sun @ the Shore party. Car back: 1 PM.

  TWELVE: Hitchhiking Hamptonites

  "This is the life," Liz murmurs. She's lying on a massage table in the middle of a large tent on the grounds of a multimillion dollar mansion that the New York City club The Cave rented for the summer in the Hamptons. They've dubbed the house the Sun at the Shore. On weekends it turns into a vacation outpost for celebrities, debutantes, and Hamptons socialites, and today they've partnered with Mom's Darling Daisies committee for an event. "This aromatherapy shiatsu massage makes me feel like I'm home."

  "Liz Mendes, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were homesick," I tease. I'm sitting in a massage chair next to her while someone from Pinky Toes, who The Cave brought in for today's event, gives me a pedicure (I went colorless for my manicure, since my nails need to be nude for the play anyway). For my toes, I picked a deep Bordeaux color to match the Tadashi pleated chiffon V-neck dress I'm wearing. "Weren't you the one who said New York was your future and Los Angeles was your past?"

  "I changed my mind." Liz gets worked up, her arms swirling round and round, sort of like the print on the yellow and brown one-shouldered Grecian T-Bags dress she had on before her massage. "I miss my car and grass and the beach and..."

  "In case you haven't noticed, you're at the beach," Sky gripes. For a moment I forgot Sky was even with us because she and Liz haven't snapped at each other for the last 3.2 minutes. I guess their relaxation treatments only go so far. Sky is getting a mani and a pedi at the same time. Two girls are working on giving her such pale nude nails and toes you'd think she didn't even get them done. Sky says that's the point. She'd hate to have her nails overpower her outfit (a mosaic Alice & Trixie long halter dress).

  "It's not the same!" Liz props herself up on her elbows, knocking her masseuse backward. The woman was massaging her arms when Liz swung them forward to start making her point. Again. "If you spent any time at Venice Beach like me and my boyfriend do, you'd know that the beaches here are very different. And if you're a surfer, like Josh, the Pacific Ocean rocks."

  "Are you a surfer?" Sky wants to know. "Because I thought we were talking about you."

  "I am talking about me," Liz stammers. "I like the Pacific Ocean too."

  "You said Josh."

  "I meant me!"

  "You didn't say you."

  "I shouldn't have to!"

  "Nadine," I call her phone quickly. "911!"

  Nadine and Rodney are just outside the tent getting something to eat from Uncle Jimmy's Backyard BBQ. They are one of the caterers of today's party. They also have Cold Stone Creamery, The Juice Bar, Baja Fresh, and a number of other eateries on hand. I would never admit this to Mom, who is running around with the Darling Daisies having celebrities plant flowers, but this whole scene is pretty serene. Well, it would be if Liz and Sky would stop bickering.

  "Why are you still here?" Liz is raising her voice now. Her curly hair is pulled off her face with a headband and she looks positively fierce. "Don't you have meetings to get to in Los Angeles? Oh, wait. Maybe you have none because no one wants to hire you!"

  "And maybe you suck at your little summer workshop not because everyone is mean but because you can't direct or write!" Sky retorts.

  Liz gasps. "How dare you!"

  "How dare you!" Sky fires back. Our masseuses and manicurists just stare in confusion. We're lucky the tent can only hold about six people at a time for treatments or this would be more embarrassing. The only other clients in here are Liv Tyler, who looks amused, and one of the guys from Metro-Station. He just ignores us.

  "Guys, you're causing a scene
." I give a fake smile to the growing group of onlookers.

  "I'm tired of her being around," Liz laments, pointing at Sky. "I've had it! This was supposed to be our summer and Sky has totally crashed it. No one even invited her! She's mean, and you don't even like her. Tell her!"

  My face colors. That is a bit harsh. Sky looks at me, her face beet red, which could be sunburn since she did refuse the Neutrogena SPF 45 I offered her earlier.

  "Yes, K, tell her the truth." Sky's voice is strange, and she plays with her raven pigtails. "Tell Liz that I'm the only one who truly understands what you're going through. I get you and our Hollywood lives, and as an outsider, she doesn't have a clue."

  Liz looks at me, and my face burns more. I pull my hair off my neck and fan myself. Maybe Nadine has an elastic band. They both have points, I know. Do I really have to choose?

  Liz hops off the table, clutching a towel around her torso, and gets in Sky's face. "I'm her best friend."

  "And I worked with her for over a decade," Sky retorts. "I've known her way longer."

  I know I should be doing more to squash this, but I'm a bit mesmerized by the whole thing. Sky trying to claim she's the better buddy? I never thought I'd see this day unless it was part of a script. I look around and notice people are starting to peek their heads into the tent. Our masseuse is whispering heatedly to someone on the other side of the entrance. Next I see a photographer with a large camera and I duck.

  "Guys! PAPS," I hiss as Nadine, Rodney, and Matty finally come running in to see what's happening. "CUT. IT. OUT. "

  "I'm leaving." Sky actually sounds upset. "I need tanning time." She passes by me and whispers so that only I can hear, "You should have stuck up for me."

  "Sky, wait," I beg.

  "Good, go!" Liz hurries to grab her dress and her bag and change in the makeshift dressing room in the back of the tent. "I'm going. I promised Meg I'd plant some begonias."

  "What? You're going too?" I can't believe it.

  "You shouldn't have let her talk to me like that," Liz huffs. "I need some air."

  I look at Nadine, Rodney, and Matty. "Why am I here again?"

  "Forget those two!" Nadine waves them away. "They'll get over it. You're here because your mom made you come, but the real reason you should be in this tent is to celebrate that SAT score of yours. You deserve some R&R." She hugs me, and she smells overwhelmingly of sunscreen. Nadine hates her pale skin getting any color whatsoever.

  Last night, I got my SAT scores in the batch of mail Anita forwarded from home and I almost flipped out. I got a 492 in math, a 605 in English, and a 650 in writing. I left a message with Mom and Dad to share the good news, but they didn't call me back. Whatever. Nadine says this will go a long way in helping me with colleges, should I choose to go. Liz, Nadine, and I stayed up late and had a celebratory pajama party. We were going to keep the party going today since I don't perform tonight till the 8 PM show. How come the paparazzi can't print something like that?

  "You're right." I cheer up a little, feeling proud of my accomplishment. When I think about how much stress I was under and all the craziness with Lauren and Ava this past spring, I can't believe I even managed to take the SATs. "I do deserve a little fun."

  "You're not having fun if they're fighting," Matty points out. "Couldn't you get them to stop? I don't need to be seen with people acting like that. It's not good for my rep. I want to be known as the problem-free Burke. No offense."

  Nadine and I look at each other. Matty is dressed in white linen pants and a shirt, like he's a genteel rapper. The clothes hang loose on his boyish frame. His shades haven't left his eyes since we arrived early this morning. He thinks everyone is looking at him or wants his autograph. Matty lowers his shades slightly. "See that girl over there?" We look and see a teen waving animatedly at Matty. "She's been stalking me all day. How cool is that? Maybe I'll make her morning and go say hi."

  "Yes, go make her morning, Matt." I purse my chapped lips (I forgot to put sunblock on them). "We'll catch you later."

  Nadine and I apologize to the Pinky Toes folks and head back outside in the bright sun. Rodney trails behind us with his Cold Stone sundae. The Cave's mansion is directly ahead of us and it is incredible. Everything inside and out is white, even down to several dozen lounge chairs and beach umbrellas. They have a large infinity pool that people are lounging at and a DJ is spinning nearby. The pool is only a short distance to the beach, which you can get to by following the tall reeds dotting a small path through the bushes. "Matty is right about one thing, " Nadine says a few minutes later. "Liz and Sky both adore you and can't stand each other. What are you going to do about it?"

  "I don't know." I feel thoughtful--this is a complete surprise for me. "I guess hang out with them separately. I feel guilty lying to either of them. Yesterday Sky and I were getting lunch and Liz called and I didn't say who I was with. And then Sky asked who I was on the phone with and I lied to her too! I know I'm a coward but I don't want to fuel the fire. I like being with both of them. Even Sky! She's right about us knowing each other well. And Liz is right that she's my best friend. I just feel guilty about Lizzie because we had this huge fight a few months ago about Mikayla."

  "That was different though." Nadine shakes her head, her gold diamond studs glittering in the bright sun. Nadine looks so cute in that ocean blue Laila strapless dress I lent her. She takes a small filet mignon toasted bread bite from a passing waiter. "You weren't really fighting about that girl from NYU, you were fighting about not being there for each other."

  "Still." I take an appetizer of my own. "What do you do when you have two friends you like and they don't like each other?"

  Before Nadine can answer, a woman rushes at me, her face covered in a white mask that smells like sour cream. Her hair is covered in a shower cap. I shriek and jump back.

  "Hi, sweetie!"

  "Mom?" I stutter as someone takes a picture of me looking horrified. The woman leans in and smiles.

  "Of course it's me, silly!" Mom laughs. "I'm wearing a daisy face mask made with fresh daisy blossoms." She touches her face gently with one baby-pink manicured finger. "It's age-defying, Kate-Kate. You have to try one. You wear it for twenty minutes. We just gave one to Christie Brinkley."

  Nadine is covering her face behind my shoulder and trying not to laugh. "I don't think I should, Mom," I say as gently as I can, looking around. "I can't have my skin break out before a show."

  We've obviously reached the Darling Daisies area of the event. There is a large flower bed where stars are on their knees on gardening pads and they're using hoes and planting seeds. Is that Katie Holmes? Whoa.

  "Suit yourself. " She fixes the shower cap, which looks like it might blow off in the breeze. Mom is wearing a fitted pale blue linen dress to go with her shower cap motif. She smiles at another woman walking by in the putrid-smelling mask. "The First Lady is stopping by later, and we're told she'd love a daisy mask. You'll miss her though since you have to go back for your show."

  She says the word show as if we're talking about the plague. I smile sweetly and finger the purple chiffon on my dress. "I'm here now, Mom. What can I do instead?"

  That seems to appease Mom a bit because she changes the subject. "I need you to go plant some seeds, Kate-Kate."

  "Mom, did you get my message about my SAT scores?" I ask, and beam at Nadine.

  "Yes," Mom says, sounding excited. "Thank God that is finally over with and you can stop worrying about school." Nadine glares at her. "Now go plant, and then are you going to stay and have some lunch? We're having a daisy salad with strawberries."

  For some reason, the word lunch makes me smile. Lunchtime is twelve-thirty--which is normal for most people, but it's only been the last few months that I'm on a semi-normal schedule.

  HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER TWELVE: On set, lunch is usually not held during lunchtime. Lunch could be held during normal lunch hours, but it could also be served at six PM. It depends on what the halfway point through the shoot
ing day is. If you start work at eight and you are ending at four, then yeah, lunch is probably at a regular time. But if you start shooting at one PM and end at eleven PM, then lunch is probably at six PM even though that's technically dinner. Also, "lunch" is the only meal served on a set. Breakfast is usually served from a truck, and crafty has lots of snacks, but lunch is the only real meal. Of course, since it's the only real meal, there is unwritten protocol about how you line up to get food. Cast lines up ahead of the crew, then the crew lines up ahead of any background people. The director can cut and go first, but usually he bands together with the crew. At least our FA director Tom Pullman did.

  Thinking about Tom makes me think about FA and my smile turns into a frown. I miss my show.

  "Stop frowning, you'll get frown lines," Mom scolds me. "That daisy facial would do wonders for that, you know. Dylan, will you tell her how wonderful it is, please?"

  Dylan? My Dylan?

  I don't mean "my Dylan," just the Dylan I know. Oh, forget it.

  I look up. The only person near Mom that could fit that description is a guy in a white polo shirt and wrinkle-free navy shorts who is wearing a face mask like Mom's. Oh, no.

  "Dylan, tell me you didn't!" I can't help but laugh.

  "Of course he did." Mom sounds a bit offended. "He even took pictures for me with that little friend of his."

  Now I'm full out laughing and so is Nadine. Mom throws her hands up in disgust and stomps off. Dylan's face is covered in drippy goo with tiny flecks of flowers and it's dripping onto his shirt. At least it's white.

  "Laugh now, but my skin is going to look bloody great," he says to me, putting his hands on his hips and striking a pose.

  "It's been twenty minutes," a woman in a daisy apron chirps, and she starts scrubbing Dylan's face right in front of us, which just makes me laugh harder.