Read On Location Page 7


  "Well, now you're on girlfriend probation," Austin jokes "which means you have to do exactly what I say."

  "And what's that?" I question, relieved that the Drew topic didn't blow up into a huge fight.

  "You have to have dinner with my family. My mom is making my favorite dish, pot roast, to celebrate Clark mak ing it to the finals, and she promised she'd wait till your next day off to do it."

  Dinner with Austin's family? Oh God. I've never even met Austin's dad before, and my awkward conversations with his mom and sister, Hayley have always gone something like this: "Hi! How are you? Is Austin home? Thanks!"

  I realize I've left a long pause. "Dinner sounds great." I fumble for the week's schedule, which is somewhere on the narrow oak kitchen table. When I find it, I scan for my day off. "How about Friday?"

  "Friday it is. FINALLY. I was beginning to forget what you looked like," he murmurs softly.

  My heart melts, but the moment is interrupted by the ar rival of Liz. She looks aggravated. She's carrying a tray overflowing with three raspberry smoothies, my turkey and low-fat Swiss panini, Nadine's vegetable soup, some soy cookies, and a bowl of fresh blackberries. Several of the weekly tabloids are tucked under her right arm. I jump up to help as Nadine continues to check e-mails.

  "I'll be the one carrying the tiramisu," I say into the phone, referring to Austin's favorite dessert. Liz sets the smoothies noisily on the table and wordlessly holds the tabloids under Nadine's nose. "I'll call you later," I add hastily, watching the tense interaction. Liz hasn't seemed to enjoy her first full-time work week on set. Unlike shoots in the past, there's been no time to lounge around the trailer talking with me in between scenes. Nadine has kept Liz pretty busy with paperwork, food runs, and phone calls. I take a seat in the softly lit breakfast booth, grab the remote, and turn on the fifteen-inch flat-screen TV Maybe some SNL reruns on Comedy Central will lighten the mood.

  HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER SEVEN: If youre interested in where a celebrity ranks on the Hollywood food chain, check out the size of their trailer. Mobile mansions are a star's home away from home. For the Adams Project, Sky, Drew, and I got Star Waggons' Megastars. The trailers are tri-leveled with a sofa bed, wardrobe closet, full-size shower, flat-screen TV, and separate living room. I like my digs, but a true A-lister like Julia or Angelina wouldn't be caught dead in this aging wagon. (They'd probably have the Star Waggons' Supreme--a forty-three-footer that is so tricked out that most studios beg stars not to even ask for one. They have a full kitchen with Corian counters, hardwood floors, a bed room that can fit a queen-size mattress, and a forty-two-inch plasma screen with surround sound.) Smaller cast members are housed in "bangers"--two- and three-door trailers (nick named for the banging sound they make when the door slams shut) that usually have several separate dressing rooms. Matty was hoping for one of those. Instead he's in a Honey-wagon, or as he calls it, "the slums." There are ten separate tiny dressing rooms without any amenities, not even your own bathroom. Kind of explains why he's taken to hanging out in my trailer so much.

  "HEY!" Matt appears and slides into the booth next to me. He's not on the shooting schedule today so he's dressed casually in jeans and a black zip-up sweater. He eyes the sandwiches on the table. "Where's mine?" he asks no one in particular.

  "Liz, can you go get Matty a sandwich?" Nadine asks as she sits down at the table and grabs her own lunch.

  "You're kidding me, right?" Liz looks wild. "I thought we were Kaitlin's assistants! Why can't you go? I've got to meet Daniella in ten minutes to help her find an inexpensive al ternate site for the dance scene."

  "Me?" Nadine bristles. "You were late again this morning and now you can't even run back to craft--"

  "I'm not that hungry actually" I jump in. "Matty can have half of mine." Matty grabs half the panini from my plate and digs in.

  "Fine." Liz takes a seat next to Nadine, who is already flip ping through the weeklies. Liz pulls her frizzy brown curls into a bun and covers them with a lilac scarf that matches the fitted tee she's paired with comfy distressed jeans.

  I notice Nadine look closely at a story with a picture of me and Drew. "Tell me," I sigh as I put one napkin on my lap and tuck one into my shirt like a complete geek. I cannot stain this denim mini-dress for the next scene. Wardrobe will kill me.

  Liz peers over Nadine's shoulder. "'Kaitlin Burke and costar Drew Thomas are looking pretty cozy on the set of The Untitled Hutch Adams Project these days, despite cries from Kaitlin's camp that she's got a steady boyfriend. "Ridiculous," was all Kaitlin's flack Laney Peters would say when asked about the allegations. "I won't dignify this trash talk with a comment." One thing Peters can't deny is the past--Burke and Thomas dated last year.'"

  GROAN. I bury my face in my hands.

  "Well, look at it this way--at least you told Austin you and Drew dated, even if you lied about how long you went out," Nadine says with a stern look.

  "You finally told him?" Liz asks. I quickly fill her in on Austins and my conversation and how I still haven't told him about Carol's diabolical plan.

  "Who cares?" Matt mumbles, munching on a soy cookie. "I don't know why you're even bothering to worry about the appearances with Drew. You can't control what's written."

  "Or what they reprint from the past," Nadine adds. "You better hope those pictures of you and Drew lying on the wet sand don't resurface."

  "Or quotes from that obnoxious interview Drew did with GQ," Liz says quietly. It wasn't bad enough Drew cheated on me, then he bragged in great detail about mak ing out with me. The GQ interview was particularly painful not only because he talked about what a great chest I had, but because he said I was gullible to think he wanted a seri ous relationship. "She was just another conquest," I remem ber he told the interviewer dismissively. The memory still stings.

  I slide my half of sandwich over to Matty. "I think I've lost my appetite," I groan. I grab the magazine, unable to keep from reading my story. When I'm done I scan the one next to it about Mina Burrows. Apparently she's been dating a PA. she met on her last movie. The two of them went to Maui for a long weekend and he taught her surf. Why can't Hollywood Nation write sweet stories like that about me?

  I push aside the magazine and I pull out my Sidekick to return some e-mails. My cell phone rings and I recognize the commander-in-chief ring tone Liz programmed.

  "KAITLIN?" Laney shouts when I pick up. I can hear cars whizzing by in the background, which means she's driving. At least she's not stuck in traffic. There are few things Laney hates more than being held hostage somewhere against her will. "CAN YOU HEAR ME?" Everyone at the table laughs.

  "Yeah, Laney, we can all hear you," I answer, holding the phone away from my ear.

  "GOOD," she barks. "HOLD ON, KAITLIN. I'M DOING SEVENTY! HOW MUCH QUICKER DO YOU WANT ME TO GO?" She must be yelling at another driver. I wait for her to finish. "I GOT A CALL FROM THAT WITCH CAROL THIS MORNING," Laney says, and I realize she's talking to me again.

  My stomach clenches. "What did she say?"

  "SHE WANTS YOU AND DREW TO GO TO THE ANTARCTICA PREMIERE TOGETHER ON FRIDAY NIGHT AND...WHAT? I DID SIGNAL!"

  "Signal? Laney, who are you talking to?" I hear Laney let a few obscenities fly before the phone grows quiet. "I can't go on Friday. I'm having dinner with Austin's family. Laney? Are you there?" Liz offers me my smoothie, but I shake my head.

  "I PULLED INTO STARBUCKS," Laney says suddenly. She's still yelling, even without the traffic drowning her out. "I NEED CAFFEINE. TALKING TO CAROL GAVE ME A HEADACHE."

  Nadine points to her watch. Could it really be after one already? I have to get back to set. We're shooting in the fu turistic high school set they constructed on soundstage eight. We were supposed to start shooting there yesterday, but we were delayed because Hutch felt our set gave off bad vibes. He called in a Feng Shui expert to analyze the space. "Laney I have to be back to set in ten," I explain. "What am I going to do about Friday?" I rub my temples soothingly.

  "Kaitlin," Laney s
ays in a warning tone that resembles my mom. "We talked about this. You have to do appearances. Carol's office didn't ask that you go, they demanded. And you know I usually don't take demands from anyone. Antarc tica is a Wagman Brothers film and Hutch is an executive producer on it. He's going to be there."

  "I'll do both," I say resolutely. "The premiere probably isn't till eight anyway."

  "You've got it. I told Carol you'd have to meet Drew there because you have an interview beforehand." Laney snickers. "You don't, but at least this way it doesn't look like the two of you actually showed up together."

  YES. Round one goes to us! Laney says she'll fax the de tails to Nadine. As we're hanging up, I hear my trailer door open and see Madison. She's dressing down like the rest of the crew now in ripped jeans and a tight pale blue zip-up hoodie.

  "Sorry to bother y'all, but I wanted to tellya that filming has been pushed back to 1:30," Madison says sweetly.

  "Thanks, Maddy," Liz says, getting up. "Are you free for coffee later? I have a meeting with Daniella, but I could hook up with you at the production office at three. We can pick up tomorrow's callsheets." Madison nods. Wow, I didn't know they got so chummy.

  "Make sure you drop off Kaitlin's boots to wardrobe be fore you go," Nadine warns. "They chewed me out when you forgot to return the jacket from yesterday's scene after you left early to get a pedicure." Liz rolls her eyes at Madison as they head out.

  With the extra fifteen minutes, I answer a few more e-mails and finish my smoothie. I'm not going to eat again till we wrap around seven so I better put something in my stomach. As I open the door to leave I almost get barreled over by Hank. Sweat is dripping down his face and he's out of breath. "You're ten minutes late!" he huffs.

  I feel my body go numb. "What are you talking about? Madison said we were delayed fifteen minutes."

  "I told her we were starting fifteen minutes early ! She must have gotten it backwards," Hank groans. He holds his head. "Hutch is throwing a fit. You better get down there." He grabs my arm before Nadine can utter a word and the two of us run full-out across the backlot to soundstage eight. As we race through the crowded set, I hear Hutch.

  "An hour lunch isn't long enough, Kaitlin?" Hutch bel lows as the P.A.s look on worriedly. Sky, Drew, and a dozen or so extras are already on their marks in the round room constructed to resemble our science lab.

  "I'm so sorry, Hutch." My cheeks are burning hotter than the lights filling the crowded room. There must be about twenty-five people witnessing my embarrassment.

  "I expect more from my lead, Kaitlin," Hutch says simply. I walk across the quiet set to my egg-shaped seat next to Sky. What is she smiling about? Wait a minute. Did Madison ac cidentally mess up the call time or did she do it on purpose? "Are you guys ready?" Hutch asks as he stares at me with his trademark scowl.

  "As always, Hutchie," Sky cheers. "Finally ready K?""Ready" I push the betrayal out of my mind for the moment.

  TUESDAY 6/26

  NOTE TO SELF:

  Dinner w/ A's family--Fri. @ 5:00

  **Ask Nadine or Liz to pick up tiramisu!!!

  --Find dress 4 Antarctica premiere

  --What time is premiere?? Limo pickup from As @ 8??

  --Remind N &L 2 double-check ALL calltimes!

  eIGHT: Dinner at Austin's

  So this is what a family dinner feels like.

  It's not takeout from Chow Mein's eaten out of the styro-foam containers or Matty and me dining on whatever left overs the housekeeper serves us while Mom and Dad dash off to another benefit at the Travoltas'. At Austin's, a family dinner is the whole family eating something they actually cooked themselves.

  "More tea, Kaitlin dear?" Austin's mom pours the steam ing water over my chamomile tea bag into a dainty floral cup.

  "Do you want another cookie, Kaitlin?" Hayley, Austin's eleven-year-old sister, practically knocks Austin off his chair as she leans over him to offer me the plate piled high with chocolate chip cookies. "I baked them myself"

  "Funny, no one's offered me more dessert." Austin winks at me. He looks adorable in a blue-and-white striped oxford and khakis. His usually messy hair is styled with gel and he smelled like Reeses Peanut Butter Cups when he kissed me hello in the doorway. "Stop fawning over Kaitlin, you guys. You're making her uncomfortable!"

  Mrs. Meyers and Hayley both turn as red as the faux-finished crimson walls. Their dining room has a warm country vibe: the oval dining table and buffet are distressed black, there's Americana placemats and napkins, and the wrought-iron light fixture hanging above our heads has roosters on every shade.

  "Sorry sweetie." Mrs. Meyers looks from me to Austin.

  I knew my first dinner with Austin's family would be awkward. I thought they wouldn't want anything to do with me after the Rachel stunt, but Hayley. who talks a mile a minute even with a mouth full of metal, says she and her mom actually felt sorry for me. ("I can't believe you had to pretend to be someone else in order to get a few weeks of R&R!") It doesn't hurt that both of them are huge fans of FA. Mr. Meyers, on the other hand, hates all TV shows ex cept Law and Order. ("The early years, not this new stuff," he grunted.) Hayley was mortified, but I think it's cool he's never seen an episode of FA. To be honest, I haven't seen that many of them myself.

  HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER EIGHT: Many stars don't watch their own work. Yes, stars are egotistical, but you'd be sur prised at how many of us are uncomfortable watching our celluloid selves. At movie premieres, some stars actually do the red carpet and then slip out when the lights go down. Sometimes they have legitimate reasons and can't stay, but the reason could also be they don't want to sit through the movie again. If you're scheduled to do a world publicity tour for the film, you don't want to see it in Los Angeles and then again in London, Munich, and Tokyo. (Personally, I find it hard not to laugh at myself dubbed over in Japanese with a too-high baby-girl voice.) As for TV, many of my costars don't watch FA. It's nothing personal. It's just that we spend so much time filming it, and so many hours on set, who has the time--or desire--to watch all those episodes?

  "I'm fine," I squeak. I'm the one who should feel uncom fortable tonight! Mrs. Meyers had to keep the pot roast warm after I got stuck on set. I was supposed to be off today, but Hutch rewrote another scene and I had to work. Then I forgot the tiramisu Nadine ordered from Sweet Tooth and she had to deliver it in the middle of dinner. I'm still embar rassed. I'm sure I'm going to fail the girlfriend litmus test.

  "This tiramisu is delicious, Kaitlin!" Mrs. Meyers says, tak ing another serving. Mrs. Meyers told me she eats what she wants, stays slim, and never works out. Mom would be su per jealous. "You'll have to give me directions to that bakery," she adds.

  "Of course." I shove a spoonful of the rich dessert into my mouth, happy to be talking about something other than my self. "Austin and I went there a few weeks ago and he liked it so much I had to get it for tonight." I reach for Austin's hand under the table. He rubs my hand softly and I get woozy.

  "Isn't it good, Jack?" Mrs. Meyers prods her husband.

  Mr. Meyers looks up from his LA. Times and removes his black wire-rimmed glasses. Austin had warned me that his dad reads the paper during dessert. Hey, at least he sits at the table.

  "What? Yes, great," he responds absentmindedly Hayley looks just like him. They both have dark brown hair and are giants. The only trait Hayley shares with Austin are those magnetic turquoise eyes. God, do I love those eyes.

  "Austin, remember those Neiman Marcus cookies Lori used to bring?" Mr. Meyers asks, referring to Austins ex who hated me. "Did you ever get the secret recipe? I loved those."

  Now it's my turn to blush. Lori could cook? I knew she was popular, beautiful, and sporty, like Austins own family (Austins dad rushes from his day shift with the LA. police department to Hayley's school, where he coaches her soccer team!), but she could cook too?

  "DAD!" Hayley scolds.

  Mrs. Meyers purses her lips. "Really, Jack," she whispers.

  "What?" Mr. Meyers loo
ks at Austin and me with such a confused look that I want to laugh. "What did I say?"

  "Um, no, Dad, never got the recipe." Austin coughs. "They weren't that good."

  "Maybe you're right," he says innocently. "It was the blondies she made that I loved." Now I can't help but giggle.

  "So where are you going tonight, Kaitlin?" Hayley asks quickly. She leans her bare elbows on the table and puts her hands under her chin, ready for a full explanation. She could listen to Hollywood fodder all night.

  "It's a premiere for Antarctica, the new movie with Murray Scott," I explain to everyone as Mr. Meyers returns to the business section. "I wish I could stay but this movie was made by the studio putting out my Hutch Adams film, so I have to support it." I look at Austin apologetically. We had originally talked about starting our long overdue Star Wars marathon tonight.

  "Why aren't you going, Austin?" Hayley asks.

  "They only gave Kaitlin one ticket," he explains noncha lantly. "No biggie. Who wants to stare at Murray Scott's mug for two hours?" I think Austin was disappointed, but how was I going to explain why Drew was meeting me there?

  "Murray Scott is so hot." Hayley counters. While the two of them argue, I peek at my watch: 7:15. I have to get changed before Rodney picks me up. I quickly excuse myself from the table and run up to Austin's room, where my dress is hanging in the garment bag Nadine brought along with the tiramisu. I unzip it and look inside. She's sent my new black LAMB slip dress. Black sequins cover the peek-a-boo bodice, which cuts off at my knees and is replaced by an inch of black feathers. Very 20s. After I dress and give my face a quick swipe of lipstick and mascara--I refused Laney's of fer for Paul and Shelly to help me get ready at Austin's--I begin to walk down the stairs gingerly in my strappy stilet tos. I'm on the second step when I hear the doorbell ring.