Reality Check (6 page)

“Susan, I'm going to cut out and head over to Saracen in Wainscott to meet some friends, so I wanted to say good night,” the girl says in a deep voice, and I realize immediately that she's—

“Peggy Pierce!” Brooke freaks.

The girl smiles. “In the flesh.”

“Pegs, do you have a sec to meet the girls?” Susan asks. “They're about to sign on to do our newest reality show,
The Cliffs
. Anything you can tell them?”

Peggy's face lights up. “This has been the absolutely best experience of my life.” She nudges Brooke. “And the money and the fame are to die for.” Brooke looks like she may pass out.

“As you guys may know, I scouted Peggy off the street too,” Susan adds.

“At a Baskin-Robbins, right?” I ask. Susan nods. I remember reading the Cinderella story. Peggy was scooping rocky road when someone at Fire and Ice (apparently Susan) approached her and asked if she'd ever considered hosting shows before. Peggy was on air in a month and quickly replaced the original
Firing Up
! countdown host, Lauren Zeale. Now she's even fielding movie roles. Could this show do the same for us? Make Brooke an actress? Land me a writing gig? Hey, Lauren Conrad got that fashion internship at
Teen Vogue.
What would be wrong with me getting an internship at
Glamour
? This opportunity could open a ton of doors.

“Could you take a quick picture with the girls before you go?” Sebastian asks.

Brooke is up from the table before she even answers. Keiran hurries to Peggy's other side and Hallie drapes herself over Keiran. I join them and someone takes a few pictures with Brooke's camera.

“Thanks, Pegs,” Susan says. “See you tomorrow for lunch?”

“Totally,” says Peggy. She grabs my arm. “Hopefully I'll see you guys soon too. You have to join the family just for the holiday party. The gift bag is killer.” She air kisses and then scoots back through the patio door.

Susan smirks. “Charlie, you look a little starstruck.”

“It's not that,” I say. “I can't get over how good she looks in person. I thought no one looked as good in person as they did on TV.”

Sebastian chuckles. “That's usually true.”

“So, girls, what do you think about Peggy, the network, your new lives?” Susan asks with a wide smile.

I'm the first to answer. “I think I've never heard anything more exciting in my entire life.”

four

Signed, Sealed, Delivered, We're Yours

 

Talk about warp speed. The following Friday, the four of us and our families are in New York City to sign on the dotted line at the Fire and Ice Network offices. We are such a large group that we take over the reception area. The woman monitoring the phones can barely squeeze through us to get from her desk to her printer. She doesn't look too happy about it.

“Charlie,” my mother whispers. She's sitting next to me wearing her favorite black pants and a red blouse, and she had her light brown hair blown out for the occasion. “Look at that wall. Is that an autograph from Gwen Stefani?”

I try to look without appearing too obvious. Yep, that's Gwen Stefani. I try to nod. Discreetly.

“Check out the other wall,” my dad whispers. “Susan has autographs from Chris Rock, George Clooney, and Jay-Z! Can you imagine? She told me the other day that she can even get me one from Harrison Ford. She agreed that we definitely look alike.”

Mom and I exchange quick glances. Dad has always thought he looks like Indiana Jones. Mom and I don't see the resemblance, but we've never wanted to burst his bubble.

“Pretty soon our girls are going to be on this wall right next to that spunky little Selena Gomez,” says Hallie's mom proudly. She hugs Hallie tightly and Hallie winces.

Parents can be so embarrassing.

We've been at the offices all morning. First they had us meet with the programming department and public relations. (I like to think part of the meet-and-greet was an informal interview session to make sure we were as normal as Susan claimed we were.) After a quick lunch—on the house in the funky Fire and Ice cafeteria—it was time to get down to the serious stuff: signing contracts, and doing an interview for the show and our future crew.

“Charlotte Reed?” the receptionist asks as she deftly puts two calls on hold and answers a third with her wireless headset.

I stand up, almost knocking into Mom's and Hallie's mom's heads since they're still whispering about Susan's wall of fame. “Yes?” I squeak.

“Susan will see you and your parents now.”

“Should the rest of us come too?” Keiran's mom asks. “The girls are on the show together. We still can't believe they're going to be on TV! I always knew they were stars, but—”

“Susan wants to see the lead first,” the receptionist cuts her off and I start to flush. “Then she'll see the rest of you.” She turns back to the phone ringing off the hook and picks it up.

“What else are the girls doing today?” Brooke's mom asks.

“Susan will explain,” the receptionist says briskly, covering the headset mouthpiece, but that brush-off won't work on this group. The parents surround her desk in seconds. Keiran, Hallie, and Brooke look mortified. I look back at them apologetically as I hurry through Susan's open door and away from the stampede.

“Charlie! Mr. and Mrs. Reed! I'm so glad you could make it today.” Susan is sitting behind a large mahogany desk, but as soon as she sees me, she springs up and extends her tanned, toned arm. A diamond tennis bracelet dangles on her delicate wrist. Her hair is down again today, ironed straight, and she's wearing a fitted black pantsuit. “I'm sorry I haven't been down to see you yet today. It's a little hectic around here. Things have been going well, I hope?”

“Absolutely. We're having a lovely time,” Mom says, sounding as if we've popped over for tea. She takes in the high-tech, sleek-but-cold room around her. “And please, call me Katherine.”

Susan's office is huge, and one side is completely covered in floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto Times Square. On the other three walls hang awards and photographs of Susan with more celebrities. There's a large, framed poster of the annual Fire and Ice Charity Ball autographed by last year's celebrity attendees. Susan's desk is metal, and her chairs are orange molded plastic ones that look cheap, but you know they aren't. Otherwise, the office is pretty empty, like she is moving. There are no papers on her desk, just a state-of-the-art iMac, a desk blotter, and a small clock.

“Have a seat.” Susan motions to the chairs in front of her desk. There are two, but someone has brought in a few folding chairs and Dad sits awkwardly on one. He's pretty tall and his knees hit Susan's desk when he sits down.

“I wanted to meet with each of you girls one final time,” Susan says efficiently, sitting down and placing her elbows on her desk. “I wanted to make sure you didn't have any other questions before I send you off to sign papers with your lawyer and ours. After that, we wanted to have you film an interview where we'll gather more information about you for the show. Then you can have dinner,” she says with an easy smile. “We made reservations for everyone at Gagliano's, this great Italian restaurant, and the bill is on us.”

“That works for me.” Dad laughs loudly and I cringe.

“What kind of interview do you have to do with the girls today?” Mom asks.

“Just standard questions,” Susan says as she focuses directly on each of us. “Things we need to know about the girls before we start so our producers can shape the show and get a better feel for the subjects they're dealing with.”

“Shape?” Mom asks quizzically.

“Yes, well, as you all know, this is a reality show, but like most of our programming, it's scripted reality,” Susan says, and drums her pale pink manicured nails on the desk. “I promise, Katherine, everything we ask is benign. You can even sit in on Charlie's interview if you want.”

“I had one question, Susan,” I pipe up. “What exactly is scripted reality? I've heard you mention it before, but I'm not sure what that means. Do we have to memorize lines and act things out? I'm not a good actress.” I couldn't even remember my one line (“Santa is on his way!”) in the first-grade Christmas pageant.

“I may have to disagree with that,” Dad says with a twinkle in his eye. “You should see her try to win us over to meet the girls for ice cream on a school night.”

“Dad,” I say through gritted teeth.

Susan laughs. “One of the things I love about you, Charlie, is how charismatic you are. If we wanted a professional actress for this, we would have hired one. We want you to be
you.
I've seen you in action with your friends and at work, so I'm not worried about personality at all. That's why you're our lead girl. You're a star with your friends and I think our viewers will really gravitate toward what you have to say. When I say scripted, I mean we know what each episode is about before we start filming.” Susan's phone starts ringing and she presses a button to mute it. I can see the tiny blue light still flashing and I try not to pay attention to it. “Just to go over this one more time, this is how things will work: We'll call you on a Saturday and find out what your plans are for the week, and what the girls’ plans are. Based on that, we try to secure those locations for filming. Everywhere we shoot and the people featured have to sign a release so if we have trouble securing a location, we may have to ask you to move it, if need be, but generally things work out. Most stores and restaurants love the free publicity, believe me. Now sometimes we can't be there for an important conversation or moment that drives the show, so we may ask you to repeat it somewhat for the cameras, but it's just for continuity.”

“Which is kind of like acting,” I sum up.

Susan unclasps her hands and waves one in a small shrugging gesture. “The difference is we're not asking you to say anything you haven't already said on your own.”

“That makes sense,” Mom says, nodding at me. “Does this all still sound okay to you, Charlie?”

I nod. I guess if I'm not being told what to say, it doesn't matter how and when we tape the conversation. The location thing makes sense too. You can't have permission to film everywhere. We know we can't film at school and if we have some sort of powwow, I guess the show needs to know about it. The show and the rest of the paying cable world.

Whoa. Scary thought. Breathe, Charlie. Just concentrate on the cool part: I'm going to be on TV!

“There's someone important I'd like you to meet,” Susan tells me. “You're going to be spending a lot of time together and I really hope the two of you will gel.” Susan pushes a button on her phone. “Addison, would you come in, please?”

Susan's office door opens and a girl in her mid-twenties walks in. She's tall and thin with wavy shoulder-length dirty-blond hair. She doesn't have on a lot of makeup, just eyeliner and lipgloss, and she's wearing thin brown-rimmed glasses. Her clothes are more casual than Susan's—dark denim jeans and a cute, fitted green top, and, I don't believe it, sneakers! She must be an intern.

“Charlie, I want you to meet Addison Baxter,” Susan says as she walks around the table. “Addison is going to be your main day-to-day producer on the show. She'll be your contact for everything going on here, and will keep you informed about filming, location changes, hours, camera stuff. You name it.”

Wait. This girl isn't an intern? But she looks so… young. I eye Addison skeptically. She's going to be running our TV show? Somehow I naively thought Susan would be overseeing things. “Hi.” I try to sound friendly.

“It's great to meet you, Charlie,” Addison says with a warm smile. “I can't wait to start working together. I don't want you to think of me as your boss, especially since I don't look old enough to be one.” She laughs. “Think of me as your assistant—a super one at that.”

“Don't undersell yourself.” Susan looks appalled. “Addison is my protégé. I plucked her from the intern pool two years ago and have been grooming her ever since. She is more than ready for the job of producer.”

“I would do anything for this woman,” Addison tells us. “She takes such good care of me. And I could not be more excited about this show. The way Susan has been describing it—a reality
Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants
focused on four best friends with you as the lead, Charlie—I just can't get enough of it. I'm so lucky to be a part of this.” She beams at Susan.

“Is this the first show you've worked on?” I try not to sound as anxious as I feel. They're giving us a first-timer. What if she doesn't know what she's doing?

“I look young, I know,” Addison admits, “but I've been an assistant on
Surf's Up
for the last six months and before that I helped with
Firing Up!
I promise, I know what I'm doing, and when I don't, I'll ask for help. I want this to be a great first experience for both of us, Charlie,” she adds.

I can't help but smile. Okay, maybe I was wrong to freak out about her age. Addison seems cool.

“Charlie, I hate to rush you out, but I want to make sure I meet with all of the girls this afternoon and I'm already late for a meeting,” Susan says apologetically. I glance at her phone. There are three blinking light now and her cell phone has been vibrating on and off for the last few minutes. “Addison will take you to meet with the lawyers and after that we'll start your interviews. Hopefully I'll catch you before you leave.”

“If not, when will I see you next?” I ask.

“Soon,” she says and glances at Addison. “I'll be checking in with Addison all the time.”

“Will you be on set?” I'm confused. This project is Susan's baby, isn't it?

“Someone has to man the fort here,” she says and knocks on her desk. “But don't be disappointed. You're going to be sick of me! I'll be around a lot. You have my cell number and can call me anytime. I'm at your beck and call. I'll get back to you immediately. That goes for you too,” she tells my parents. “But for day-to-day stuff you can rely on Addison. I'm not abandoning you, Charlie, I promise,” she says and winks. “We'll talk soon,” she promises, and holds out her hand to shake.

Susan's office door opens and the receptionist leads in Hallie and her parents. Hallie looks like she's ready to burst, but there's not much I can tell her with all these people around.

“Suze, I'll be right back,” Addison tells Susan.

We move through the reception area and into the corridor, where I see Keiran arguing with her mom. I hear the words “babysitter” and “have to go,” which can't be good, but I pretend not to eavesdrop. Keiran's mom waves mine over, but Addison is still walking, so Dad and I follow. She leads us to a conference room where the lawyer our parents hired for the four of us is waiting, along with three guys in suits, who I assume work for the Fire and Ice Network.

“Are you okay here, Charlie?” Addison asks. “I have to meet Hallie, but I'll be down after you sign and then we can spend some time chatting. I really want us to get to know each other.”

“I'd like that too,” I tell her as I fiddle self-consciously with my wavy brown hair. I wanted to look nice for today's meeting, so I'm wearing black capris and a cute purple tank top that has small flowers embroidered around the neckline.