Secrets of My Hollywood Life #5: Broadway Lights (2 page)

"Let's move, people," Laney barks, making even my long-time personal security, Rodney, jump. "The car is out front to take you to the after-party, and I want to get you guys in it before fans start asking for autographs."

"Can you imagine the horror?" Nadine quips so that only I can hear. I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

Rodney whips into work mode, puts his trademark black sunglasses back on, and uses his large frame to clear a path for my family to make our way out a side door of the theater and into the waiting Escalade idling near the curb. I follow his dark, shiny bald dome through the crowd. We slip in without commotion and are at the next red carpet outside the Crown Bar on Santa Monica Boulevard before I know it.

The white building looks as if it could be someone's house instead of a hip lounge. It has lush greenery in the front and a candlelit outdoor patio. Inside, the mood is very old-school Hollywood romantic, making me think Austin and I would like hanging out here if it wasn't so scene-y. There are chandeliers everywhere, lots of dark wood, distressed mirrors, padded walls with textured wallpaper, and intimate banquettes. In the middle of the place is an octagon-shaped bar. I hear the food here is pretty good. It's classic American bistro with burgers and flatbread sandwiches, with fish and chips thrown in. Tonight everything is being served appetizer-style. We head to the back of the place, where we have a reserved banquette; everyone drops their gift bags and rushes off to network. Everyone except me and Austin.

"So," I say softly, my voice barely audible over the DJ and the noise of the packed party. But I know Austin heard me.

Austin stares back at me. "So." He weaves his fingers through mine. "Seven days left."

I nod, looking away from his blue eyes and trying to blink back tears. I focus on his silver cuff links. I bought them for him a few months ago. They're tiny lacrosse sticks. "Seven days."

"I've been thinking of our last hurrah before you go." Austin gives me a quizzical look. "How do you feel about--"

"Katie-Kat!" Mom's voice is louder than even the DJ's, and he has a microphone. I look up. Mom is a few tables away. She's waving her hands wildly and standing next to a short, plump man in a wrinkled dress shirt. "I need you!"

"I'll be right back," I promise Austin, squeezing his rough, calloused hand.

I scoot out of my seat and talk to Mom's new "friend," who turns out to be a TV producer working on a mid-season series about cocktail waitresses in Vegas (blech). Before I get back to my table, I see my
PYA
director, Hutch Adams, and zip over for a quick hello (with a drink in hand, he's always much friendlier). Then I run into my obnoxious
PYA
costar Drew, and though he and I aren't on good terms, I do my job and pose with gritted teeth for a few pictures. I try not to think about the fact that Drew's garish pinstriped black suit, striped shirt, and tie completely clash with my soft pink dress. (Who wears so many stripes together anyway? Does Drew think he's Ed Westwick channeling his alter ego Chuck Bass? Drew may be dark and handsome, but he'll never be as legendary as Mr. Bass.)

Next I shake hands with a few executives from other studios whom I've never met. (Seth would be happy), stand patiently and listen while an actress I barely know laments the lack of good jobs available for twenty-somethings ("Everyone wants teens!"), and do a quick interview with
Entertainment Weekly
, the sole print outlet allowed at the party. As I talk to the reporter, I sneak wistful glances at my table. Austin is talking to my best friend, Liz Mendes, who must have slipped in while I was gone. She missed the premiere because she had a kickboxing tournament. When my interview is done, I start walking quickly, eyes straight ahead to avoid being stopped again, but someone blocks my path.

"There you are, K!" Sky Mackenzie, my former
FA
costar and current
PYA
one, sounds like she's in a huff. She rolls her eyes at me. "Where have you been?"

"Sky!" I say, and without thinking I give her a hug. She instantly stiffens, but I don't care. Even with our notoriously volatile history--Sky and I never got along during our decade-plus run on
FA
, even though we played fraternal twins--I've surprised myself by actually missing her. I even miss our bickering. "How have you been?"

"Outrageously busy and in demand," Sky says with a toss of her long raven hair. She looks extra tanned (but thankfully not orange. That's happened to her before), and she's wearing a fitted, strapless silver ruched dress that she's paired with calf-length blue leggings and black Coach heels. "I went to Les Deux last week, and Winston's Bar on Thursday, and had meetings at Wagman's on Friday--they can't wait to work with me again--and I've been tanning and reading
my
script for
my
new show and..."

I stare at Sky as she talks about her packed schedule. Normally I would think she's being smug, but despite her boasting, she seems nervous, and her dark eyes have shadows underneath them. I know this girl. We practically grew up together on set. "Sky," I interrupt quietly.

She stops short and her cocky grin fades. She waves a hand in the air, her dozen bangle bracelets sliding up to her elbow. "I'm bored."

"I know," I chime in, and put an arm on her shoulder without crushing her lacquered hair. It's an acquired Holly-wood skill. "Me too."

"I thought I would love a little R&R," Sky dishes. "Time for Palm Springs, a shoot-down to Cabo, you know? But it gets old. I miss work. I
need
work. I can't wait to get on set in July. I just wish it was in town rather than in Vancouver." She makes a face, pursing her plump (fake. Shh!) lips.

"At least you have a show to go to." The words slip out and hang there. Wow. Did I really just say that? Do I miss having a show? Why am I admitting that to my supposed rival?

"Please, K, not the pity act," Sky clucks. "You're doing the Great White Way! You're going to get total cred and get some plum role working with Clooney after this. My show could be canceled after three episodes." Her eyes open wide, as if she can't believe she just admitted that to her nemesis.

I can't help but giggle. "We're pathetic."

Sky actually cracks a smile. "We are, aren't we? We've only been out of work for two months, if that!"

"Excuse me, Sky? Kaitlin?" A guy in a tux holding a video camera approaches us. "Sorry to bother you. I don't know if you know me, but I'm Ryan Joseph, Media Relations for
Family Affair
."

"Ryan!" I say, excited. I barely knew the guy, but anyone from
FA
is a friend in my book. "How are you?"

He looks relieved. "Good. Tough getting in here tonight, but Tom said if I didn't catch you two here, I might never see you together again. We thought this could be fun to post this week, before the final episode airs next week, and..."

"What are you talking about, Raymond?" Sky asks impatiently.

"It's Ryan," he says, looking nervous.

I shoot Sky a look and gently tuck a lock of my blond hair behind my chandelier earrings. "
Ryan
, what do you need?"

Ryan's shoulders relax a little. "Tom Pullman sent me. He was hoping you guys would do a YouTube shout-out for the last episode of
FA
that we could put up ASAP. Let me just call Tom and he can explain more." He punches the number I know so well into his phone, and within seconds Tom is on the line and Sky and I are listening in to his request. Something short, sweet, funny, maybe in character even. Pretty please?

Sky and I look at each other, and I see the small sparkle in her eye. We'd do anything for
FA
. "We'll do it," I answer for both of us. Sky doesn't try to stop me.

After Sky does a quick makeup touch-up and I do a pat of powder on my shiny nose and a swipe of nude shimmer gloss, I stop quickly at our table to say hi to Liz and to apologize to Austin for the delay. Next thing I know, Sky and I are huddled on the glowing candlelit outdoor patio, where it's much quieter, shooting a two-minute impromptu promo for our (almost) dearly departed TV show.

"We're back!" Sky yells, throwing an arm around me and making me giggle as the camera records. "Miss us much?" She blows a gum bubble through her hipster wine-colored lips, and it pops loudly.

"Sky," I scold. "No chewing gum." I figure Ryan will rewind and redo, but he's still taping. Okay then. "The
Family Affair
finale is fast approaching, and you don't want to miss a second of it," I tell the viewers.

"K means business," Sky interrupts. "Don't upset her. We don't need her winding up in Cedars Sinai again." I shoot her a dirty look.

"Or Sky drowning her sorrows at a karaoke bar," I retort, and receive an elbow to my ribs. "You guys
don't
want to hear her sing."

"Or K cry. Again," Sky deadpans.

"Or Sky over-tan herself to combat boredom," I quip, and give her the evil eye.

The two of us look at each other and start to laugh. "Some things never change," I tell the camera. "Like us. You know you love the drama."

"
Family Affair
," Sky adds. "The series finale, next Sunday at nine. Be there or be...?" She looks at me.

"Square?" I question.

Sky shakes her head. "You really are a dork."

I start to laugh some more. Soon we're both uncontrollable. Ryan stops recording.

"That was clever," he says in amazement. "You guys seem like you really like each other."

We both stop laughing at once.

"Are we done here?" Sky asks. Ryan nods.

The two of us head inside, and Sky turns to me. I see the smallest of small smiles on her dark lips. "I'll see you around."

"Sure," I tell her, knowing it's probably not the case, and for some reason that makes me sadder than I would have thought. "Good luck with the--"

BOOM!

Someone pushes me and I bang into Sky, sending her backward into a waitress carrying a tray of drinks. The three of us crash with a thud so loud that DJ Bizzy actually stops spinning.

"What the hell?" Sky jumps up and shakes liquid off her. My dress and even the tips of my hair are drenched, and the poor waitress is covered in spilled drinks. Rodney is at my side in seconds and helps me up. I turn to see who I banged into, and my jaw drops. "Ava? Lauren?" I say awkwardly. "I didn't know you were invited." Eek. That sounded rude.

Ava Hayden and Lauren Cobb, two girls I spent more hours with this spring than my best friend, stand in front of me with their arms crossed. They're scowling, but they look amazing. Ava's long blond hair is pulled back, and she's rocking a cream chiffon Monique Lhuillier dress with a purple sash that I've always loved. Lauren's wearing what I think is a Roberto Cavalli sheath in black, but she's made the look her own by adding lots of chunky boho jewelery--maybe too much. Her brown curly hair is down and super shiny. For a split second I wonder whether their outfits were lifted. The two have a nasty habit of deciding to stuff new dresses into their purses at Saks, which is just one of many reasons we stopped hanging out.

"Have a nice fall?" Ava stares at me darkly, her long, thin ivory face twisted into a deep frown. Lauren laughs so hard the unrecognizable drink in her hand splatters all over, missing her dress by inches. "Sorry," Ava adds coolly. "Guess we didn't see you. Kind of like the rest of this town."

"You pushed me?" I'm flabbergasted. Yes, we're no longer friends, but we didn't end on such bad terms. We just sort of sailed away from each other--me with motor full-throttle, but still. I never said a bad word about either of them to the press and I definitely could have after the havoc they caused at my
Sure
photo shoot.

"Aw, your dress," Lauren mock sobs, and puts a hand to her heart. She cocks her head to one side, her brown eyes so wide they seem to squish her high cheek bones. "To be honest, it's sort of an improvement."

"Marchesa is so last month," Ava adds.

"K, are you going to let these D-listers talk to you like that?" Sky comes to my defense.

I remove Rodney's hand from my arm and walk over to the two of them. "Don't do this," I say quietly so that only they can hear. "We're not friends, but we don't need to be enemies. Don't we all have enough of those?"

Ava smiles thinly. "I never have enough enemies. Congratulations! You, my friend, just moved to our number-one spot."

"Why?" I'm dumbfounded. "Can't we just leave each other alone?"

"It's more fun this way," Lauren coos. "Ava and I like drama, didn't you know?"

"You mean you like any chance you can get to get some free publicity," Sky interjects sharply. The girls ignore her.

"I can handle this, Sky." I'm shaking and on the verge of tears. Everyone in the room is agape at the scene. My whisper-thin soft dress is clinging to my legs gracelessly, soaked in red wine, and I know a picture of me looking this pathetic will show up in some rag or another tomorrow, thanks to camera phones. I'm humiliated. I don't want the trouble, but if they're going to give it, then I have no choice. "I think you two should leave."

"And what if we don't?" Ava taunts."We never miss a party at Crown Bar. Even if it's for a premiere as lame as yours." Lauren snorts.

"That's it!" Sky yells, scaring even me. "This is our movie and I won't let you talentless posers bash it--especially when it rocks and you two are just jealous that the best offer you'll ever get is for
Celebrity Rehab
." She jabs a long, bony finger at them every other word, then makes a crazy hand motion to a nearby bodyguard and to Rodney, her plum polish flashing black in the low lighting. "Toss them out."

Whoa. I need to sound more assertive like Sky sometimes.

"You can't do that, Sky, and I don't think you want to either," Ava says smugly. "We were invited. Now, go throw your temper tantrums somewhere else. You really don't want to get on our bad sides again, do you?"

"You've been uninvited," I say before Sky can answer the question. "Invite or no invite, this is our movie, not yours, and neither of you is welcome here. Not after this." I nod to a studio executive who has been watching the whole exchange. She motions to the private security.