Secrets of My Hollywood Life (3 page)

By eleven-thirty we've hit every department in the store. For the final shot, Marc gets the group of girls following us to pose for a picture of me "leaving" with dozens of Fred Segal bags. Most of the bags were actually mine since Kathy kept trying to give me anything I said was cute, including a pair of funky banana-yellow pumps.

Once I've signed autographs and posed for pictures, I finish my interview with Zara. After a few softballs (I told her my most embarrassing moment was when I accidentally spat food on Julia Roberts at a party), Zara wants to know the real dirt.

"Everyone in our office is obsessed with Trevor Wainright." She sighs. "We love his character, Ryan. What's it like to kiss him?"

"He's a great kisser. He has really soft lips," I giggle. Hey, it's true. Not that I have so many guys to compare him to.

"I'm sure it's awkward though," Zara comments, "since Sky has a thing for Trevor."

"You'd have to ask her about that." I calmly dodge the ticking time bomb.

"So there's no guy in your life right now?" Zara prods. I watch as she slides her tape recorder across the perfume counter where we're standing and closer to me.

I shake my head and smile. "Sadly, no. Between
FA
and my homework and charity obligations, I don't have a lot of free time."

"You seemed to make room last year, when you were spotted around town with Drew Thomas."

"We didn't date," I explain firmly. "We just had a few dinners. We were in talks to do a movie together." What I want to say is that Drew is an egotistical muscle head who is more concerned with how his famous dates can advance his career than having an actual relationship. I found that out the hard way, and I've had no desire to date anyone since. Of course, I truly haven't had the time to either.

"This week's
TV Tome
has a story about you and Sky fighting over Trevor," continues Zara. "Want to comment?" I look at Nadine, who motions for me to wrap things up.

"I think someone on set must be drinking too many lattes." I laugh. "They're hallucinating if they think we're fighting over Trevor. It couldn't be further from the truth. He's Sky's if she wants him. Trevor's a great guy, but he's a bit quiet for me. I like more assertive guys, you know? Trev's better suited for someone like Sky, who can walk ..."

"TIME'S UP!" Nadine blurts out. Zara jumps. "Sorry," Na-dine apologizes efficiently. "We've got to go." I look at my watch. It's
1:55.
I had hoped to run into Mauro's Café & Ristorante, which is inside Fred Segal, to grab a strawberry smoothie, but there's no time. My stomach rumbles in protest. Sorry, buddy. Let's hope the So Chic store has a yummy Chinese takeout menu handy.

Three:
A Slice of Heaven

Liz is waiting in our usual rickety wooden booth in the back of A Slice of Heaven when Rodney and I arrive at 4:15. As we weave through the crowded tables, I pull my Dodgers cap down low so that no one recognizes me. Not that I don't stick out like a sore thumb with an intimidating dude trailing me everywhere I go. Liz sees us coming and taps her watch.

"Sorry." I cringe as I slide into the booth. "Rodney and I got stuck on Robertson."

"Autographs?" Liz asks knowingly.

"Camera guys," Rodney explains through a mouthful of pepperoni. Hey, how'd he get that already? "They were like a swarm of wasps."

"It's no wonder. You're big news this week, Kates," Liz offers, her long-lashed brown eyes sparkling. "You've been spotted all over town crying over losing Trevor Wainright to Sky." She grabs my worn hat and yanks it up to examine my annoyed expression. "I don't see any tears though." She laughs, her curly dark brown hair swinging.

"Cute," I comment sarcastically. "Real cute. Can we order? I'm
starving."

"Sorry. I couldn't resist. Dad had the new
Hollywood Nation
in the bathroom."

"Did you use it as toilet paper?" Rodney takes another large bite oozing with cheese.

"I'll have to try that." Liz grins, then spies something behind us and whistles loudly. "Now that's what I call service!"

I turn to look. A Slice of Heaven's owner, Antonio, shuffles towards us, carrying our usual -- a Sicilian pie with extra cheese, peppers, and broccoli and three Sprites. "Here you go," he announces gruffly. "Anything for my favorite girls -- and Mr. Rodney, of course." He places the steaming pie down, and we scramble to get a slice.

There's no comparing other pizza to A Slice of Heaven's. It's the best pizza in Los Angeles, maybe the entire West Coast. (Antonio says the key is the water he uses to make the pie dough. He has tap water bottled and shipped from New York.)

There's another reason Liz and I are fond of this place: No one bothers me here. The restaurant is this totally no-frills pizza joint with almost vintage booths and unfashionable checkerboard tablecloths, in a strip mall in the Studio City section of L.A. Celebrities, and the paparazzi for that matter, would never think to come here. Most stars dine at other star-owned hot spots or hang at security-tight clubs like Star. I spend too much time in that circle as it is, which is why I favor A Slice of Heaven. When Liz and I sit in the back booth nursing our pie and Sprite refills, no one notices. It really is heaven.

I jump up and plant a kiss on Antonio's cheek. "Thanks, Tony. I've been dying for this all day. And today was pretty hectic -- even for me."

He blushes. "You're lucky Liz told me you were coming. We were almost out of broccoli. I saved it for you."

"You're the best," I mumble, taking a big, juicy bite.

Antonio motions to Rodney. "Come on back.
Rambo: First Blood Part
II is on TV."

"You think you could whip up some meatballs while we're back there?" Rodney gets up quickly, knocking over the napkin holder. "Holler if you need me, Kates," he says before following Tony away.

"So how was the shoot?" Liz asks. I nod up and down, since my mouth is full. "And lunch the other day with Laney and your parents?" She grins slyly. I stop chewing and look down at my greasy plate.

"You've been dodging that question for days now! You haven't told me what happened when you brought up taking the hiatus off." I blink rapidly and stifle a sigh. Liz takes a monstrous bite of pizza, the oil dripping down her chin, and shakes her head.

"Let's just say I didn't make much progress," I answer slowly before filling her in on my ill-fated convo at the Ivy.

Between my parents' long-winded speech about my future acting plans, Matty being signed by Laney, and Laney's signature name-dropping stories about her other clients ( "I spent all morning with Reese and the kids," she'd drawled as my family listened intently. "She wanted my help picking out a dress for the Erase MS event this weekend"), I could barely get a word in. And when I did meekly suggest taking a vacation this hiatus, instead of doing the Kaitlin Goodwill press tour they were suggesting, my parents, Matt, and Laney acted as though I was certifiably insane.

"Take ... the ... hiatus ... off?" Laney repeated slowly, tapping her long French-manicured nails nervously. "That's NOT a very good idea." She trained her almost-black heavily lined eyes on me. "The tabloids are devouring stories of you and Sky. If you disappear for a few months, she'll win."

"It's time to get in gear!" Dad gushed like a cheerleader. "Work, work, work, Kaitie-kins. It will pay off."

Matty was the only one on my side. Well, sort of.

"Laney, I could go on
Ellen
for Kaitlin." Matt flipped his blond mop top, green eyes glowing with excitement. "I don't need media training like Kaitlin does. I could be her cute younger brother who sticks up for her. And talk about my next project, of course ... once I get one."

Matt's still never gotten over the fact that I could only get him a walk-on role on
FA.
He was so mad about it that he barged into the writers' room one afternoon and demanded a bigger part. I'm lucky the writers were good sports about my 13-year-old brother's outburst. They could have shipped Sam off to Cambodia to build schoolhouses out of mud.

"This is your career we're talking about, Kate-Kate." Mom smiled sweetly, sealing my fate to a hiatus full of TV appearances, interviews, and social events from the day
FA
shooting ends next week till I arrive back on set in August. "If we want your career to be a long one, we have to protect your image and squash these rumors pronto. You can take a
weekend
off, but then it's back to work. Understood?" She raised her right eyebrow at me scarily. Again, that's never a good sign.

"Understood," I had agreed quietly.

What I should have said is that
I'm exhausted.
Completely and utterly flattened from the gossip hounding, fights with Sky, and nonstop schedule. And if I don't take a break from all things Hollywood, I might wind up having a breakdown that prompts me to dye my hair a scary shade of platinum blond, stop consuming anything but Jamba Juice, and begin partying till four AM like some other young stars I know, but am too discreet to name.

"So I'm taking it you didn't bring up Cabo?" Liz jokes. The two of us were hoping to jet down to Cabo San Lucas for a little sun while I'm off from work, but I don't think that's part of Laney's schedule.

"Not even close," I say, eyeing another slice of pizza. Liz catches me.

"Go on." She grabs a second slice for herself. "It won't kill you."

I look around, almost thinking Mom will swoop in at any moment and have a fit, and pull another piece from the tray.

"Thatta girl," she encourages me. "First step is pizza, second is reminding your entourage who is actually in charge of your career."

Sometimes I envy Lizzie. Liz doesn't take garbage from anybody. She also eats what she wants when she wants. She says she burns up tons of calories in kickboxing, and what she doesn't goes straight to her "large and in charge Latina butt." "If it works for J.Lo, it can work for me," she says when we try on Lucky jeans at The Grove shopping plaza.

Liz is the type of person who has so much easy self-confidence that you feel good just being around her. She even gets to enjoy many of the same Hollywood perks I do, since her dad is in the business, without ever having to worry about the media concocting wacky stories about her.

HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER FOUR: You don't have to be an actor, producer, or director to be treated like royalty in Tinseltown. Often it's enough just to be in the industry or a relative of someone famous. Publicists figure that by gifting celebrities' families free cell phones or passes to the hottest parties, the stars will eventually hear about what's being promoted anyway.

"I'm so frustrated," I complain wearily. "I just wanted a break from the Hollywood scene, you know? I'm not talking about giving up my job. Just a vacation from Sky, the tabloids, and my crazy schedule."

Liz stops chewing and looks at me curiously. "Unfortunately the baggage comes with the job," she reminds me gently. "Besides, it's not much easier sitting on my side of the booth. Sophomore year is rough. I just flunked my third bio exam -- which means Mr. Harding is going to call my dad -- I have a history term paper due next week that I haven't even started researching, and even though the Spring Fling is still two months away, I have absolutely zero date prospects."

"Okay, when you put it that way..." I roll my eyes. Liz throws an oil-soaked napkin at me. I toss it back at her. "I'd still gladly sit in class and let you deal with Sky and
Hollywood Nation
for a few weeks."

"You're a weirdo. You think school is fun." Liz makes a face. "Just say the word and I'll take your life. I could kick Sky's butt." She could too. In just a few months she's gotten pretty good at kickboxing.

I laugh, but I wouldn't mind switching places with Liz for a little while. It would be nice to slow down. And seriously, how cool would it be to go to school every day? The way she's always described Clark Hall, it seems so normal. That's probably because it is. Liz's dad hated the idea of sending his daughter to a stuffy boarding school just because they had money, so he enrolled her in Clark Hall. Tucked away on a sprawling campus in nearby Santa Rosita, the private school is famous for having a highly decorated curriculum (which basically means there's a ton of honors classes, which Liz is in), and prides itself on its large percentage of scholarship students from all over Los Angeles. Liz complains about Clark a lot, but everything she mentions -- the boring pep rallies, the school dances, cafeteria turf wars -- sounds pretty enticing to me. "It would be nice to disappear for a while." I fantasize wistfully, and stare at a loud group of teens at a nearby table.

"You know what you need? To pull a total Houdini." Liz digs into the garlic knots Antonio also left us. "Hide out somewhere no one would ever recognize you. Let's think of fun places you could go. Um ... Tahiti?"

I don't laugh. She's right. I
should pull
a Houdini.

"St. Bart's? We always wanted to go there." Liz is getting into the game. "Or Belize!"

"What about Clark Hall?" I offer half-jokingly.

"Yeah, right." She laughs, taking another bite of her garlic knot. "What -- as my show-and-tell project? Be serious."

"You said I needed to pull a Houdini." A lightbulb goes off in my head. "Think about it. I
do
need to get away, and the truth is I can't go far. Rodney would have to come with me and he'd never leave Los Angeles during pilot season."(That's when the TV networks cast for upcoming shows, film an episode, and then pray their series will be picked up for the fall.)

"Kates, I was kidding," Liz interrupts, but I'm too excited to stop.

"I can't skip my schoolwork, right?" I exclaim. "Wherever I go I'd have to bring a tutor. Unless ... Unless I didn't need one because I was at Clark!"

Liz's eyes widen nervously. "You can't be serious," she replies hoarsely.

"I
am
serious." I tuck my feet under me and lean into the table. This is exactly the change I've been looking for. The thoughts begin to fly furiously. "I have to finish my school-work for the year anyway, right? So instead of working with Monique, I'd enroll in classes with you every day. Think about it, Lizzie! I'd be getting away from the tabloid crap for a while, which would be a vacation, and I'd get to hang with you. And actually go to class, like I always wanted. I think the experience would totally clear my head. I'd do my press stuff for Laney after class so she wouldn't freak out, which would make Mom and Dad happy, and ..."