Secrets of My Hollywood Life #5: Broadway Lights (10 page)

Hmm... gets us
Hollywood Nationers
wondering. How were SKAT (our we-so-love-it abbreviation for Sky and Kaitlin)--both in the Big Apple for work--in Los Angeles for the night? And why would the recently redeemed Burke be up to mischief?

THE L.A. LADIES WERE IMPOSTERS!

"Ava Hayden and Lauren Cobb thought it would be a hoot to dress up as Kaitlin and Sky and cause trouble," admits a supposedly close pal who fears "they'll kill me if they know I blabbed. The two were furious when they heard that Kaitlin and Sky were benefiting from all this publicity instead of them. They can't believe Sky and Kaitlin are going to host the season finale of
Saturday Night Live
! That didn't fly. Now they're trying to get payback."

Others back up this source's claims, as do the pictures posted here, which distinctly show LAVA (Lauren and Ava's new nicknamae courtesy of
HN
) playing dress-up. (Who could miss Ava's tattoo of her dog Calou on the inside of her wrist?) "I knew it wasn't Kaitlin and Sky," said a waiter at the Sunset Tower Hotel. "Kaitlin was just in a few weeks ago and couldn't have been sweeter. I feel so bad for that girl. Lauren and Ava are really out to get her."

Don't we know it--and we can't wait to see what happens next!

FIVE: Pucker Up

I bet Giselle doesn't have these problems. I should have been in a car heading to the Waverly Inn for the Operation Read America event fifteen minutes ago. Instead, I'm dealing with a dress crisis (Sky just stole the Vera Wang Lavender Label steel-belted one I was going to wear because she liked it better than her Nicole Miller bustier mini) and trying to put on makeup while I ignore my ringing phone (I'm sure it's Mom wondering where I am). Then the doorbell rings.

"Tell them to go away!" Sky barks. She's hogging the bathroom mirror as she applies her third coat of berry lip gloss. Matty is jumping behind her trying to get a look at himself, but Sky doesn't budge.

I run out of my bedroom with only one leg in my Spanx (don't let the stars fool you. Everyone in Hollywood wears them) and hop to the front door. When I look through the peephole I scream. That sends Nadine, Matty, and Rodney running. (Sky doesn't move from the bathroom mirror.) I pull open the door.

"SURPRISE!" Liz yells. She's wheeling a piece of carry-on Louis Vuitton luggage and is wearing a plum tie-dyed Free People tube top that flares out at her waist, slim black linen pants, and her favorite Elie Tahari black leather slingback wedges. Her thick curly hair is piled on top of her head with chopsticks poking out. Not exactly a travel look, but that's Liz.

The two of us jump up and down, hugging each other and squealing so loud we sound like the seals at the Central Park Zoo (which I visited again yesterday. They're so cute!). We're bouncing so hard on the hardwood floor that a Pottery Barn frame slides off the Asian hall table and lands on the floor with a thud.

"The people below us are going to start banging," Nadine warns and picks up the framed photo of Matty and me in Turks and Caicos. She puts it back on the table.

"Who cares?" I trill. Let them bang all they want. They banged for half an hour the other day when Mom was doing her Wii Fit aerobics at full volume. It's only been two weeks since I've seen Liz, but it feels like a decade, and I can't help being excited.

"Daddy flew in for the weekend, so I came with him to see you and start unpacking, but I head back Monday for finals," Liz tells my shoulder. She finally lets go of me too. "Are you happy to see me?"

"Nope!" I tease. "Of course! I have so much to tell you."

She rolls her luggage over to the couch and leaves it there while she looks around the spacious living room, with its floor-to-ceiling views of lower Manhattan and cool dark leather couches. "Nice digs."

"Mom wants to buy this place," Matty tells Liz. "The Realtor says it's over two million dollars, so I think Mom's backed off."

"She also wanted to buy a home in the Hamptons last weekend that was ten million," Nadine chips in. "She abandoned that idea too."

"Well, either way it's nice," Liz agrees. She looks at me. "So? Tell me! How is the play going?"

"Really well." I look down at my hanging Spanx and pull them off, crumpling them up into a ball and hiding them in my fist. I'll put them back on in the privacy of my room. "Rehearsals have been exhausting but amazing. It's harder than I thought it would be."

"And Riley?" Liz reads my thoughts. "Is she still acting as if you're Britney Spears trying to do Shakespeare?"

"Yes." I sigh. " 'Kaitlin, that take was spot on! Spot on if you were going for comedic effect rather than drama. That is what you were going for, right? Interesting. Not exactly what I'd expect the character to do, but okay. Jolly good! Cheerio!' " I use my fake British accent--the one I perfected when I posed as a British exchange student at Liz's school a while back--and take some liberties with what Riley actually said, but the idea is still the same. Riley makes me feel like I'll never be able to handle the stage. She's always second-guessing the way I say my lines, and making little comments about how Meg--a
real
thespian--did things, or questioning my knowledge of theater ("
Wicked
is good but so commercial," she said with a sniff when I told someone my favorite Broadway show. "Have you see
Waiting for Godot
? No? But it's a classic! I thought
everyone
in theater had seen that.") I will not play the crazy pampered celebrity role she so wants me to and complain (even though Sky and Laney think I should), but it's been tough biting my lip.

"Yesterday was the worst," I tell the group. "I ordered lunch for the cast every day this week--sort of a thank-you for the all the rehearsals they're doing with me--and everyone thought that was cool. Everyone but Riley. Yesterday I ordered pizza, and Riley wouldn't touch it. She said, 'None for me, thanks. I can't handle all the cheese. It makes me bloat, but from the looks of things you don't mind as much. You should think about another costume fitting, darling, just in case. Well, guess I'll be off. Need to take the tube uptown. We don't all get car services like you do, you know. Cheerio!' "

Liz giggles. "Troll. Does she really say 'cheerio'?"

I grin. "No, I just threw that in. It sounds better that way."

Sky coughs. Loudly. "We're going to be late, K. Get your Spanx back on and let's go." She stares down Liz and stomps her snakeskin stilettos impatiently on the hardwood floor. Sky's hair is pulled back in a tight bun and her long yellow-gold earrings hit her in the cheek as she shakes her head.

"What are Spanx?" Matty asks, looking bewildered. He's dressed in a white shirt, black pinstripe vest (very Justin Timberlake), and black pants. Rodney said he looked like a waiter. Hee hee.

Nadine shoves him toward the still open door. "It's top-secret girl stuff. " She turns to look at me. I'm still only wearing a fluffy pink robe. "Finish getting dressed and let's go. You're really late."

I head back toward the bedroom to finish getting dressed, then realize Liz is still standing in the same spot she was a few minutes ago, staring straight ahead, her arms crossed. "What's the matter?" I frown.

"What is
she
doing here?" Liz points one purple painted finger shakily at Sky.

"We have an Operation Read America dinner tonight at the Waverly Inn," I explain. "Sky and I are doing the kissing booth."

Sky grabs my arm. "K! Get dressed! You can have your geekfest later." She looks at Liz. "She can hang here and watch
The Real Housewives of New York City
or something else lame."

Liz grabs my other arm. "Nooo... I'll come with you," she says defiantly.

Sky snaps at her. "There's no room at our table."

"Sky." I use a warning tone.

"They'll squeeze a chair in for me." Liz is snippy. "Maybe your father can't get a table there, but Daddy eats there when he's in New York all the time."

"Liz." I use the same voice. Obviously Liz and Sky can't stand each other. Never have. Their dads worked together at Liz's dad's entertainment law firm, and some deal gone bad led to bad blood. Sky's dad has since started up his own firm and is always trying to poach clients from Liz's dad. If that wasn't bad enough, there's the fact that besties always defend each other, which means since I used to hate Sky, Liz hates Sky, even though now Sky and I sort of get along. "We can all go. I'll tell Nadine to call ahead and add another person."

Liz smiles triumphantly while Sky scowls. I hurry off before they erupt again so I can finally get dressed.

* * *

I think this outfit is better than my original one. I'm wearing a BCBG kelly-green pleated jersey halter top dress and Roberto Cavalli black peep-toe slingbacks. I left my hair down and curly basically because I had no time to do anything else with it. Fifteen minutes later we were all on our way to the Waverly Inn in the West Village. That's where the Operation Read America event is being held. It's my first time at the hotter-than-the-equator eatery and I can't wait to see inside.

Vanity Fair
's Graydon Carter is a co-owner of the tiny bar and restaurant, and people say he eats here several times a week in his usual banquette. He also supposedly looks at the seating plan and the reservation system, which keeps track of clients and how many times they've dined, whether they've complained about their meal or berated a waiter. I guess he likes keeping the joint sort of exclusive and mysterious. You never know who you're going to run into. Even though tonight is an event rather than a dinner reservation, I plan on staying on the restaurant's good side so I can come back with Austin. The car rolls to a stop in front of the green barn door entrance, which is on the ground floor of a townhouse.

As we step out of the car, Liz yanks my arm and stares at my feet. "Kaitlin Burke, are you wearing FLATS?" I blush. "You never wear flats to events!"

"That's because we drive everywhere in L.A." I remind her. "Here I do a lot of walking. I had to walk fifteen blocks in my Manolos the other night. My feet haven't stopped aching since." Nadine warned me not to wear heels everywhere, but I didn't listen to her. I thought she just wanted me to look like one of those businesswomen we see power-walking by us in the morning in a suit and Uggs or sneakers. I told Nadine I was willing to suffer for fashion and wouldn't succumb to rubber soles. But that was before my driver got stuck in a jam on West 4th Street for forty-five minutes and I decided to hoof it home instead. It was torture! The upside to walking around New York is that it's almost impossible to get lost. I love how the streets are linear and most blocks are numbered and it's amazing how you can stand at the end of Fifth Avenue and stare all the way uptown.

"I don't care how much my feet hurt, I am never wearing flats," Liz declares, and wiggles her plum-manicured toes. "You're not wearing flats to the Junior Prom, are you?" Liz asks me as we head toward the door. There are no paparazzi lurking out front, so it's a short, uninterrupted walk. There's no red carpet either, since
People
has an exclusive on the event and plans for the evening were sort of hush-hush.

"K, don't forget we have our
SNL
meeting on Monday," Sky interrupts.

"I remember," I tell Sky, and then to Liz, "I'm not wearing flats to the prom."

"Good," Liz says. "Austin and Josh rented a limo, but we still have to make dinner reservations. What time is the flight back on Sunday?"

Sky is still talking as well. "I told them we want a skit with Andy, and of course, he'll say yes because it's us. You'll work with Andy even if it's a twisted skit, right, K?"

"Yes, I want to work with Andy," I tell Sky, and then to Liz, "Noon."

Liz's turn again: "Have you called Allison since you got here? She's going with Murray, of course."

"What are you wearing on Monday, K?" And Sky's: "I do not want both of us to show up in Stella McCartney."

I stop short right in front of the door. This paparazzi-free walk should have been easy. "Are you guys going to try to talk over each other all night, or are you both going to grow up and actually talk to each other?"

The pair look at each other quickly and then back at me. "Talk over each other," they say almost in unison.

I look at Nadine, who seems rather amused. Matty just shakes his head. "Girls," he mutters.

"Kaitlin! Sky! So glad you're here!" Olivia Thompson, the Operation Read America coordinator, rushes over to us from where she's standing with the guest list at the door. She's wearing the program's logo T-shirt, which is a black tee covered in red lipstick marks, and has on dressy black pants. Her frizzy graying hair is pulled back in a bun and her long, narrow face has just a hint of makeup. In her hands are two pairs of red wax lips on sticks. "These are for you," she says as she hands us them. "You can use them in the booth. Some of the celebrities felt more comfortable giving kisses if they had the lips as a filter."

"I don't need a filter," Sky insists. "As long as the kiss-ee is hot."

Olivia looks flustered. "Well, this is a charity event, so I'm not sure who you'll get during your fifteen minutes, but we've been doing a lot of hush-hush publicizing and we have a great turnout. Lots of people are in town for the upfronts. We're so fortunate Graydon let us do this sort of event here," she says, looking around the crowded room. "He doesn't usually do them at the Waverly, but then again, he is old friends with the program's director. Maybe that's why so many stars volunteered for tonight." I stand on my tippy toes to see inside the dark interior of the hot spot.

Sky nods. "You're lucky I'm here, Olivia. I would have been hard to come by if I wasn't in town promoting my upcoming show." Liz snorts. "It's one of the most talked-about shows of the fall season."

Olivia frowns slightly. "What is it again?"

I steer Sky through the cracked open door before Sky can berate her. "Thanks, Olivia," I call out. "We'll be sure to get to the booth by eight-twenty-five for the eight-thirty spot." I push Sky toward the dining area. The rooms are tiny, lit with low-watt lamps that make the brick walls glow, and there are small tables, red chairs, and banquettes throughout. Adding to the homey feel are tons of tchotchkes, like old books and pictures of the Brooklyn Dodgers, and there is an unlit fireplace in one corner.