Secrets of My Hollywood Life #2: On Location (2 page)

"But that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," I reply. "My free time is going to be scarce once I start Hutch's movie. And our start date is only two weeks away" As if ei ther of us needs reminding.

"You'll be busy, but I have a lot on my plate too." Austin sounds a tad defensive. "Final exams are coming up and we made the division lacrosse finals. I told you what a bruiser Coach Connors is. Practices are going to be twenty-four-seven. Plus I'm coaching peewee lacrosse when school ends. I'm going to be pretty tied up myself." Austin's hair falls over his eyes and I can't read his expression.

"I just thought we should have a State of the Union be fore both our lives get crazy," I say hurriedly. "Once I get on set, who knows what will happen. Call times get bumped, my work schedule will constantly change, and I'll have ap pearances to make. But I'm sure I'll be able to bring a guest to most of them," I add.

"I'm not going to lie--sometimes I think it's surreal that I'm dating the famous Kaitlin Burke," Austin confesses as his cheeks turn as red as his swim shorts. "I guess that's why I'm nervous about going to events with you. This celebrity world of yours is a bit overwhelming." He smiles sheepishly, revealing the dimple by his left cheek.

"Mingling with other celebrities is the same as hanging with me," I promise, and lay a hand on his wrist. "Most stars are quite normal."

"If you say so." He doesn't look convinced. "But as far as your nightmare datebook, I get the picture." He shrugs. "I knew this wasn't going to be cake when I showed up at your compound a few weeks ago and said we should give this a shot."

"You're right." I bat my green eyes at him, hoping I look cute in this harsh sunlight, hoping the image of me in this teal bikini is enough to make him remember his words a month from now when the only time we have to see each other is 3 AM for a very, very early breakfast.

"I told you, all I ask is that you be honest with me." Austins voice is soft and quite serious. "The one thing I can't stand is being lied to." He wraps his arms around my knees and rests his chin on them. "As for the rest of the Hollywood protocol, you can teach me as we go along. Sound good, Pro fessor Burke?"

"Works for me." I kiss him softly on the lips. "That means I can give you this present." I blindly reach under the lounge chair and search for the small box wrapped in shiny silver paper that I planted there early this morning. I pull away from Austin and put the box between us. Austin takes it and tears the wrapping curiously.

"A Sidekick?" he laughs.

"This way we can talk anytime we want without inter ruption," I explain as he opens the box. "I can e-mail you when I'm waiting to shoot a scene and you can text me be fore class. These babies are quick."

"Thanks." Austin blushes. "But I feel weird about you buying me something so expensive--"

"Don't," I interrupt. "It's one of the perks you're going to have to get used to. And believe me; this gift is purely selfish on my part, Meyers." I flash him a toothy grin.

"Whatever you say, Burke." Austin pulls me close and we begin to kiss again. The familiar scent of coconut is enough to make me forget all about Hutch Adams, my lines, or my wardrobe fitting...for the moment.

Later, when Austins left and I've stopped questioning how I lucked out in getting the greatest boyfriend in the world, I whip out my Sidekick to send myself a few reminders.

SATURDAY 6/2 NOTE TO SELF:

Sunday schedule

6 AM--Capoeira martial arts session--HOME w/ Paulo
7:30 AM--stretching w/Cirque du Soleil gymnast

MEMORIZE LINES!!!

***Movie Start Date: Monday, June 18

TWO:
Walk Down Bad Memory Lane

"The forecast for Los Angeles is downright gloomy," The meteorologist says on the car radio as Rodney maneuvers through traffic towards our meeting at Wagman Brothers Studios. "Rain will be heavy at times so watch out for flash flooding. There's no doubt about it, kiddies--hunker down and stay inside today"

Hmm...even if inside means trapped in a Town Car with my bickering team?

"Watch it," Laney snaps as the car lurches forward and Nadine bangs into her, sending Laney's lipstick flying out of her hand.

Nadine ignores her. "Rodney, how much longer?"

"I don't know. The freeway is crawling," Rodney explains in between sips of his chocolate protein shake. "At this rate, we won't make it to Wagman's till 11:30,
if
we're lucky."

Nadine looks at her trusty plastic Timex and sighs loudly. "I wouldn't be in such a hurry if someone didn't stop at Lisa Kline to buy a sequin halter top," she mumbles.

I watch Nadine hastily punch some numbers on her cell phone. "Hi, Bernadette, it's Nadine," she says in a fake pleas ant tone. "Nasty weather today huh? Really you were too? I'm stuck in traffic myself with Kaitlin Burke. I know. We'll be there as soon as we can." When Nadine hangs up, the si lence in the car is so awkward that I concentrate on listen ing to the windshield wipers working furiously to keep up with the monsoon outside.

"I don't know why you're in a tizzy," Mom finally says as she flicks a stray thread off the boot-cut Blue Cult jeans she's wearing with a flowing orange silk shirt and leopard heels. "Lindsay's mom said this was the sale of the century and I couldn't miss it. You should have bought something your self. Besides, it was a quick stop," Mom adds. "We were al ready on Robertson Boulevard."

"I just hope we aren't late to Kaitlin's meeting with Hutch and Carol." Nadine scratches her right eyebrow nervously. "I've heard stories about Carol Ingram. She may be new to Wagman's, but she was an A-list personal publicist for years before she made the move to studio marketing. Tell them, Laney You worked for her."

"You did?" Mom, Rodney, and I practically say in unison.

Laney looks like she might open the back door and toss Nadine out into the storm. A rumble of thunder claps over our heads.

"I heard she was your mentor," Nadine squeaks while her face turns as red as her hair.

Laney looks out the fogged windows of the Lincoln Rodney always chauffeurs us around in and sighs. "That was a long time ago," she says wearily. "I'm quite successful on my own, if you haven't noticed."

"We're moving!" Rodney interrupts excitedly smacking the steering wheel. "There was a car with a flat tire in the left lane."

"But you know Carol's secrets, right?" Nadine prods Laney "When Kaitlin signed on to Hutch's movie, I did some research on Wagman and found a scathing article about Carol in
New Money
magazine. It said she had Ace Makar banned from making movies at her last studio be cause he gave her trouble at a press junket."

"That's ridiculous," Mom says skeptically. "What head of marketing has that much power?"

"Carol's liquid gold," Laney explains sourly. "The last ten--TEN--movies she ran the publicity for made mil lions for Sonic Studios! That's why Wagman paid such a pretty penny to steal her." Laney looks away. "If only the deal could have happened after this movie," she mumbles under her breath.

"I've never heard you mention her before," I note curiously.

"We had a falling out when I left the private firm she ran." An unfamiliar pink tint spreads across Laney's cheeks. "I took some of her big clients with me."

"Ouch," Nadine sums up with a full-on grin. I think Na-dine's mentally taking notes for her ascent of the political ladder.

"But that's all in the past," Laney says dismissively "We've crossed paths since then and always been professional." Laney clears her throat.

Her words hang in the air-conditioned cabin. "This is exactly why I didn't want us to be late to this meeting," Nadine adds quietly but not quietly enough for Mom not to hear.

"Don't get smart with me, Nadine," Mom snaps, clearly flustered by the Carol lowdown. "The meeting doesn't start till eleven thirty!"

UH-OH. I hear Rodney step on the gas and we ride the rest of the way in tense silence. As I watch lightning flash across the dark sky, I can't help but wonder about today's mystery meeting. Hutch has never scheduled a last-minute production pow wow. I wish I could say the move is classic Hutch, but I've only met with him a few times now and the rest I know from interviews--he's easygoing, loves to surf, and meditates on set when he's unsure of how to shoot a scene. I've heard through the grapevine his only drawbacks are that he's very secretive about scripts and is such a perfec tionist that he sometimes falls behind schedule. I hope that doesn't happen with this film: I'm due back on
FA
in mid-August!

Hutch's producing partner Daniella Cook is the one I've been dealing with on a daily basis. She's been great. First she set up Capoeira (Brazilian martial arts) training sessions so I'll be in killer shape for the fight sequences. Then she hired a stunt coordinator from Cirque du Soleil to teach me how to fall out of a car or a window properly and got me classes with a dialogue coach to perfect a slight Irish accent, since my character supposedly spent part of her childhood in Ire land. She's also the one, along with my agent, Seth, who has been keeping me up-to-date on the flurry of script changes Hutch has been making (which I'll admit I'm not used to and am kind of nervous about). When Daniella hand-delivered the most recent version last Wednesday she re vealed that Hutch is getting his first screenwriter credit on this film. Daniella reminded me to guard the script with my life--Hutch has no tolerance for plot leaks.

Before I know it, Rodney has zipped through tight secu rity and pulled up to the parking lot outside the plain brick Building 27 on Wagman's backlot. He jumps out of the car with an oversize umbrella in his hand and rushes around to the back to open the door for the rest of us. It's so windy, Rod ney, who is six foot two and almost three hundred pounds soaking wet (like he is now), is getting banged around. He steadies the umbrella over the open drenched door and gives me a wink as rain pours down on his bald head.

"Let me worry about Carol," Laney growls at us as she slides out of the car first. "You three worry about why Hutch called this meeting in the first place."

My stomach flip-flops as the rest of us step out of the car, huddle under the umbrella, and make our way to the lobby. Daniella mentioned Hutch liked surprises, but I know the meeting can't be about him hiring Matty. We got that call from Seth yesterday and celebrated with a sushi dinner last night. Hmm...what is this meeting about???

OH GOD. MAYBE I'M BEING FIRED!

HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER TWO: Just because
Variety
announces you snagged the role of your life in an upcoming film doesn't mean you're guaranteed to set foot on the production. Stars drop out of movies all the time, both voluntarily--boxing rehearsal injury didn't like the latest script changes, got pregnant--and involuntarily--like when a director sees the error of his ways and realizes his lead isn't worthy. I know this mega-hot actor who had
two
hit TV shows and practically the pick of any upcoming movie he wanted. He signed on to do this big, I mean BIG, movie with a hot director and then was quietly dropped a few weeks before production began. Rumor has it the director realized his would-be leading man may be funny, but he so can't do serious drama. Gulp. I wonder if Hutch had a change of heart about
me.

Once we're in the lobby and shake the rain off our jack ets, I take a deep breath and look down at my sensible shoes. They're adorable gold Prada ballet flats that make my feet look small with the jeans and lilac Stella McCartney turtle-neck sweater I'm wearing under my white Roberto Cavalli trench coat. I thought it was important to dress older and wiser today so that Hutch doesn't think he made a mistake hiring a sixteen-year-old to play a sixteen-year-old in his mega-budget action movie. Let's be honest: how many stars in this town actually play parts their own age?

OH GOD. I AM BEING FIRED! I feel myself start to hyperventilate.

"Are you alright?" Nadine asks.

I nod. There's no reason to break the bad news now, and anyway, my throat has constricted too much for me to utter more than a choked gasp. I follow the
click-clack
of Laney's and my mothers heels past the perky receptionist listening to Celine Dion and up the dark blue vinyl-covered stairs to the second floor conference room. Lining the bright white walls are several Wagman film posters and I pause to look at one of Hutch's,
Seeing Is Believing.
It's a giant picture of a beige metal blind that a sweating Jack Vitano is suspiciously peer ing through as Nicki Neary huddles in fear behind him. I love that film.

Please tell me my name will be in size 60 Helvetica font on the top of Hutch's next poster! I promise if it is, I'll be nicer to everyone I know, including Sky.

Mom is the first one through the conference room door. "See?" She chirps half a second later as she whips around to face Nadine. "No one's here yet." Nadine breaths a sigh of relief.

Shaking slightly I walk into the large room. It doesn't re semble the typical conference room setup, which is a long table lined with swivel chairs. This room has huge windows that overlook Wagman's rain-soaked backlot, several aged brown leather couches, plush green suede recliners, and a large plasma TV In front of each couch are mission-style oak coffee tables with binders stacked on them. I walk over to the nearest table and pick one up. Written in bright red ink on the front of the blinder is, "FOR YOUR EYES ONLY:
The Untitled Hutch Adams Project.
" I sink into the nearest recliner and feel myself start to decompress. It's not like Hutch would leave something as top secret as the new ver sion of the script lying around if I wasn't still the star of the picture.

"Did I give you permission to touch that?" A gruff voice demands. I spin around, dropping the binder loudly on the plush almond-colored carpeting.

"GOT YA, Katie Bear," Drew Thomas, my movie costar, yells. I grimace at the familiar nickname. "Miss me?" Drew flashes his trademark ultra-white toothy grin with the confi dence of someone who's seen hundreds of girls melt like butter at the sight.