by Jen Calonita
Sky moans. “Stop making me feel old, Melli,” she complains. “I’m already older than Burke.”
The dressing room door swings open and I tense up, thinking it is Alexis. That’s another reason Sky and I have been getting here early — to avoid two hours of sitting next to her in a twelve-by-twelve room. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s Tom, but then I see the grave look on his face. Uh-oh.
“Hey, girls,” he says.
He turns to Melli. “I need a moment alone with you when you’re done. I spent two hours on the phone last night with you-know-who.”
Sky and I exchange hurried glances.
“What did he say?” Melli asks breathlessly.
“He kept trying to talk me out of it, but I told him I was firm,” Tom tells Melli. “I said we’d meet with him to discuss it over breakfast.” Tom senses us staring and turns around. I quickly pretend I’m staring at the tacky vase filled with flowers on the makeup counter. “Girls, I’m glad you’re both here. I was hoping we could finally sit down and talk this morning. I feel awful that I’ve been so busy.”
Finally! Now we can tell Tom everything.
“No problem, boss,” Sky says.
Nadine coughs. She’s been getting a real kick out of Sky’s attempts to be nice.
“Do you want Sky to go first or me?” I ask.
“Actually I wanted to meet with both of you together if you don’t mind,” Tom says frankly. His face is blank and I can’t read him. Together? Why together? This doesn’t sound good. “Does nine-thirty work for both of you? I’ve got a half-hour window before I have to be on set.” We both nod wordlessly.
“What was that about?” Shelly asks when Tom leaves.
“I don’t know,” I admit and immediately feel my shoulders tense up.
“Relax, okay?” Sky tells me sternly. “Mel, tell her to relax. I’m sure it’s just to hear us tell our side of the story together.”
“Um hm,” Melli says, but her mind is obviously elsewhere. Melli stares at her grande cup of Peet’s coffee, letting the steam from the flap hit her in the face while her stylist combs out her long black hair.
Once we got through hair and makeup, we made an emergency run to crafty. (Pete hadn’t unpacked the chocolate yet, but we told him the brownies were a matter of life and death.) Now we’re on our way to see Tom. I feel like I need my trusty paper bag again. I’m so going to throw up.
“I’m afraid we’re about to be ambushed,” I whisper to Sky. “We should call Laney and Amanda beforehand, don’t you think?”
“And tell them what?” Sky hisses. “That Tom wants to meet with us? We’ve been asking to meet with him. They’ll think we’re nuts.”
Sky has a habit of making me feel like I’m borderline crazy (or is it playing the rational role to my paranoid hysteria? Whatever.), but I can tell she’s worried too. She took three brownies while I only took one. The last time Sky tried to out-dessert me we were in kindergarten. She’s been on a diet ever since.
“But he’s met with everyone else alone,” I say. “Hi, Luis,” I wave to a crew member walking past us. “Why would he ask for us to go together? Do you think someone from the network will be there? They only come down during contract negotiations or if someone is being fired. We have to be prepared, Sky. I’m not leaving this set without a fight.”
“Annmarie, that sweater looks amazing on you,” Sky tells a passing crew person. “I hate this,” she whines and stops short. “I can’t do the Miss Goody Two-shoes act like you do. It’s just not me. If Tom wants to fire me, then let him fire me.”
“You don’t mean that,” I scold.
“I do,” Sky says. “For the first time in my life, I’m not the one who’s making everyone’s life miserable and I’m getting punished for it just the same. What’s the use? You are who you are, K. Why fight it?”
I think of Austin’s pep talk. “That’s not true, Sky. You just have to figure out what you want and make it happen.”
Sky glares at me. “Who are you? Dr. Phil?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m trying to help.”
“Well, try harder,” Sky huffs.
I have an idea. “I know what will cheer you up. What if we play Pass the Carrot during this morning’s scene?”
HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER FIFTEEN: When stars are tied up filming one scene for hours, we can get creative with our ways to pass the time. One thing we like to do is play what I call Pass the Carrot. During taping, we try to find new ways to hide objects in our clothing without Tom noticing. Or we try to pass an item, like a cookie or a pen or a carrot (get it?), without disrupting anyone. The game helps when we’re shooting our umpteenth camera angle for a hectic family dinner scene.
“You’ve never invited me to play that game before,” Sky sniffs.
“That’s because I never liked you enough to play it,” I remind her. “But maybe this once, I’ll let you play with me and Trevor.” Sky grins. We head to the stairs in the back of the building that will lead us to the administrative wing of FA. Tom’s office is a plush corner one with huge windows that overlook the lot. It’s pretty quiet back there, which means no one will hear me begging for my job. As we reach the door to the stairs, we see Max, the show’s cutest writer.
“Hi, Max!” Sky says, sounding flirty. At the mere mention of his name, Max jumps so high he practically hits his head on the high ceiling.
Max’s dark brown hair is hanging in his face and when he pushes it away, I can see the beads of sweat dripping down his tan face. “Oh, hey, girls,” he says with a small grin. “What are you two doing over here?”
“We have a meeting with Tom,” I explain. Max nods. I wonder if he’s sick. He’s usually a big flirt and today he seems very quiet. “Are you okay? I’m sure the writers’ room is pretty stressful right now, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Max says, absentmindedly tugging his hair. “It’s awful. We can’t wait for the interrogations to be over, you know?”
“Do they have any leads?” Sky asks hopefully. “They must suspect someone at this point. Does anyone have a motive?”
Max shakes his head. “I don’t know . . . I don’t think so . . . this whole thing was probably someone’s idea of a practical joke and now their career is going to be ruined because of it.”
“Joke?” The hairs on my arm stand up. “Some joke,” I snap. “Whoever wrote it canned our characters. I’d hardly call that funny.”
“You’re right,” Max says quickly. “I’m sorry, Kaitlin. I’m sorry the whole thing happened to you two. Listen, you guys better get going. Don’t want to keep the boss waiting.” He smiles. “I’ve got to get back to the writers’ room myself.”
The writers’ room is clear across the building. What’s he’s doing over here? Maybe he just had his own tête-à-tête with Tom and doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Maybe we can chat about all this later, say, over coffee?” Max adds.
My cheeks flush. Now I feel silly. I can’t believe I snapped at Max. He’s always been so nice to me. Like two weeks ago when he brought me an iced coffee because I looked tired. I’m about to apologize when I hear her.
“MAXIE POO, WHERE ARE YOU?” Alexis comes from the opposite corner and I see Max’s face pale.
Maxie Poo?
“What are you two doing up here?” Alexis demands. She is wearing a pink cashmere turtleneck and barely visible jeans that are tucked into thigh-high black boots. Her red hair is smoothed under a black velvet headband. She doesn’t look happy to see us, but what else is new?
“We’re talking to Max.” I point out the obvious.
“Why would you two need to talk to Max?” Alexis seems anxious.
“None of your business,” Sky says. “Why do you need to talk to Maxie Poo?”
“She doesn’t,” Max says at the same time Alexis says, “I don’t.” They look at each other.
“I just mean, don’t worry, girls,” Max says, cracking a lopsided grin. “There’s enough of me to go around. Now, listen, I’ve g
ot a lot of work to do this morning so I’ll catch you all later, okay?” I could swear he gives Alexis a look before he walks away, but I’m not sure. “Have a good meeting.”
“Meeting?” Alexis asks, looking nervous. “What meeting? Who’s having a meeting?”
“It’s one that doesn’t involve you,” I tell her. I grab Sky’s arm and lead her to the staircase before Alexis can say anything else. I start ascending it quickly and Sky pulls me back.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“I just thought of something,” she says. She takes off her shoes, tiptoes down the steps, and peeks around the corner.
“What are you looking at?” I whisper. “Is Alexis still there?”
Sky ignores me. Then suddenly she starts waving her arms frantically. “Come quick! I knew it!” she whispers. “I knew Max was acting weird.”
I quickly slip out of my boots and down the stairs too. Sky makes room for me to look and I peek around the door frame.
What the . . . ?
Halfway down the hall, Alexis and Max are clearly in the middle of a heated argument. Alexis keeps trying to grab his hand and Max keeps pushing her away. Alexis keeps touching him. She grabs his hand again, caresses his shoulder, tries to hug him, and then she KISSES HIM! ON THE MOUTH! AND HE KISSES HER BACK!
EEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWW!
It doesn’t last long though. Max pushes her away and storms off. Alexis quickly races after him.
UGH. What does Max see in her? I mean, yeah, she’s kinda beautiful, I guess, and has a great body, but she’s catty and backstabbing. Max seems like such a weird choice for Alexis. She seems like the type to be jockeying for lip time with Zac Efron or Ryan Gosling. What would she see in Max, who is just a TV writer?
A TV writer.
MAX IS A TV WRITER!
I gasp. “Oh my God! Max must have had something to do with that script!” I blurt out. I think I might faint. Or throw up. I’m not sure which would be more inconvenient.
“You think?” Sky mocks me. She grabs our shoes and throws me my boots. “Quick. Let’s follow them.”
Sixteen: You Can Run,but You Can’t Hide
“Could you slow down?” I beg. Sky is moving swiftly down the hallway, peeking in doorways and opening doors in her frantic search for Alexis and Max. “They’re not here. They’re probably in Alexis’s dressing room or the writers’ room.”
“Let’s go there then,” Sky begs. “If we can catch them talking about being the script bandit, then we can tell Tom. We could be rid of Alexis and save our jobs by noon.”
It’s a tempting idea. I look down at my Coach watch and frown. It’s 9:10. “Sky, we’ve got to be in Tom’s office in twenty minutes,” I remind her. “We’ll never make it to Alexis’s dressing room and back in time and we can’t be late for this meeting.”
“If we don’t find Alexis and get some dirt then there’s no point in even going to the meeting,” Sky counters. “Tom adores Alexis! The network loves her! She’s got a much smaller salary than we do. Who do you think they’re going to choose? Her.”
“If you really believe that, then why are you even showing up at work?” I argue. “Why did you agree to team up with me to take down Alexis? Why are you meeting with Tom?”
“Because. I didn’t say that’s what I want to happen, I said that’s what I think will happen.” Sky is still on the move. We pass empty writers’ offices and an abandoned wardrobe room. Everyone must be on set setting up for the first scene.
“Sky, Tom said he had a half hour for us.” I grab her arm and pull her in the direction of Tom’s office. “Don’t you think it’s more important that we see him first and then find Alexis? How will it look to Tom if we’re late?” I drag her down the corridor.
“Let go!” Sky complains. “Get your man hands off me!” I don’t budge. “Geez. You have some grip.”
“Stop yelling,” I say, turning around to yell at her. OOOF! I’m not looking where I’m going and I bang into someone. It’s my brother.
“Matty, what are you doing down here?” I demand. Matt and I had a huge fight after I walked off set with Sky a few weeks ago. When I finally made it home after karaoke and the publicist powwow, Matt was waiting. He started yelling at me about not answering my cell, leaving him on set without telling him what was going on, and then he said I was jeopardizing both our jobs by being so unprofessional. Yowza. So then I started yelling about how he was still hanging around Alexis after he said he wasn’t going to. I told him he had clearly chosen her over his own sister, which was a shame because it was clear that Alexis was totally using him. It was a pretty ugly spat and I’ve felt awful about what I said but have had too much pride to say I’m sorry — he could apologize too, you know. Now we’re kind of not speaking. The most we’ve said to each other is “Pass the rosemary and garlic potatoes” during our chef-prepared dinners (Mom can’t even make Jell-O).
“I, uh, had an appointment,” Matt says cryptically. He shifts in his red-and-black customized Nike IDs. His honey-colored hair looks like it hasn’t been combed in days and his long-sleeved Gap logo tee and cargo pants are wrinkled, which is weird because Matt has everything ironed for him. Even his underwear.
“What kind of appointment?” Sky demands, wriggling free from my grasp. “Were you just with your girlfriend? Did she come this way?”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Matt says stiffly.
“Whatev.” Sky shrugs. “Have you seen her this morning?”
“No,” Matt says. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I don’t say anything.
Sky studies Matty closely. “Has she ever said anything about the script bandit?” Sky asks. “Did she mention Max? Or revenge or anything? You must know something! You’re her lackey!”
“Sky, lay off,” I demand. I can’t stand watching Matty squirm even if I am mad at him. He may like Alexis, but he’d never withhold info about the script bandit from me. “He doesn’t know anything.”
Matt looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. “I have to get to wardrobe,” he says and then he walks away without saying goodbye. Hmph. A simple “thank you” would have sufficed!
Sky takes off, in the opposite direction of Tom’s office again, and practically knocks down Matt as she whizzes past him.
“Wait!” I scream as I run after her. “SKY! Don’t do this! We’ve got a meeting! What am I supposed to say to Tom about where you are?”
I’m out of breath and wheezing by the time I catch Sky. She’s made it all the way to Alexis’s dressing room. Seriously, who knew Sky was so fast? I’ve never seen her run a day in her life, unless it was after a reporter. Or Orlando Bloom on the red carpet.
“I can’t believe you!” I reprimand, but Sky shushes me. She points at Alexis’s door. I can hear mumbling and it sounds heated. Yep, that’s definitely Alexis and Max in there.
“I can read lips. Always did the trick for spying on you,” Sky says as the muffled voices grow louder. “Let me try to find out what they’re saying.” She peeks through the door’s small window above my head.
“Be careful,” I remind her.
“You should see this.” Sky is standing on her tippy toes. “Alexis is sobbing about how sorry she is. You should see her face, K. Mascara running everywhere. She looks awful.” Sky laughs wickedly.
“Are they saying anything important?” I need Sky to focus. We don’t have much time. It’s 9:22.
Sky squints hard. “It’s hard for me to understand with all her whining. WAIT. WAIT. What did she just say? I think she said script!” Sky looks at me with eyes as wide as the Four Seasons’s teacups. “K, she’s crying about a script!”
I feel nauseated. “Are you sure?”
“Hey, girls!” someone interrupts. Sky and I whip around. Trevor is walking toward us. He has a cute new buzz cut and he’s wearing loose-fit jeans with a thermal tee over a long-sleeved white one. How did I miss him sneaking up on us?
“Everything okay?” Trevor asks. �
��What are you guys doing here? Everyone’s on set. We’re getting ready for Tom. He has some sort of important meeting.” Sky and I can’t move. What if Alexis and Max hear him? What if Sky misses them talking about the important stuff ? I’m sweating. I can’t think of a single thing to say that could explain what we’re doing, and if we don’t get him out of here quick, we’re ruined.
Trevor’s smile fades. “Do you guys hear someone crying?” he asks.
“Nope,” we say in unison.
“It sounds like it’s coming from Alexis’s room.” Trevor puts his hand on the doorknob and peeks in the window. “Hey, why is Alexis kissing . . . ?”
NOOOO! I begin to hyperventilate. I look at Sky. I feel like the moment is happening in slo-mo. Sky throws herself at Trevor, knocking him backward across the hall, and pas-sionately kisses him on the lips. He looks as surprised as I am, but then he starts enjoying it. I don’t know what to do.
“Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Sky murmurs in Trevor’s ear. “I’m just finishing something up with K, but can you meet me in my dressing room at one for lunch?” Trevor says something incoherent. He must still be in shock. “Great.” Sky turns him around and sends him away. “See you then!”
I look at her sternly and try raising my right eyebrow like Mom does.
“What?” Sky shrugs. “He looked hot. Man, I forgot what a good kisser Trevor is. And those arms . . .” She sighs.
“What about Cody?” I ask.
“I’m keeping my options open.” She winks and then takes her place back at the small window again. It’s so quiet in the hallway you can hear the central air unit whizzing. “Okay, so Alexis is still groveling. She’s definitely talking about the script,” Sky reports. “She’s crying. Blah, blah, blah. Wait. She’s apologizing now and saying no one has to know. Max is yelling back that he’s going to get fired because of her. I don’t understand what he’s saying. “This is all part of some big use.” That doesn’t make sense. A muse?”
“A ruse?” I suggest.
Sky looks at me. “What’s a ruse?”
“Just keep reading lips,” I tell her. Sky could seriously benefit from some SAT prep work herself.