The Secret Life of a Teenage Siren (23 page)

“What are you doing for the premiere?” Dex asked his biological sister.

“Ushering,” she replied. “Which means I'm stuck inside watching this drivel.”

Dex shook his head. “What is it with you two? We get to work at Sovereign Studios, one of the oldest motion picture and TV lots in Hollywood.” He looked at me. “You're going to be rubbing elbows with some of the biggest power players in town—”

“More like carting their butts around.”

He turned to his sister. “And you're going to be one of the first people in the world to see what everyone is saying will be the blockbuster romantic comedy of the summer. You are both way too young to be so jaded.”

“When did he become the voice of reason?” I asked Liz.

“Always been that way,” Liz replied. “It's damn annoying.”

Dex was right, though. And we weren't seriously upset about working the premiere. We just like to whine sometimes. It was kind of exciting to be involved in a big movie premiere with movie stars and the Hollywood elite—even if I was nothing more than a second-rate chauffeur. But you never want to
look
like you're excited about those things. That would be tacky.

Jaded is the Hollywood version of excitement.

“Are you sticking around for the premiere?” I asked Dex.

“Can't,” he said. “I've got an audition for a play in a little theater on Santa Monica.”

“Break a leg,” I said. I wanted to ask him more about it, but Dex didn't like talking about roles until he had them. Like everyone else in Hollywood, Dex had aspirations for something beyond his day job. Well, like everyone but me. I still wasn't sure what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I knew that tour guide was not a career option. At least Dex wasn't going the typical route of being a waiter while he pursued his acting dreams.

“Hey,” Liz said. “Here comes lover boy again.”

I willed myself not to look up from my salad, but I could see Liz's body shift as she turned toward the kitchen. I silently repeated to myself,
Don't look. Don't look.
But the salad could only hold my interest for so long.

My head popped up to catch a glimpse of Connor as he elbowed his way out the door of the commissary. He was loaded down with about a half dozen to-go containers, heading back to the office with his bosses' meals, I guessed. I bet I'd see him at the premiere later.

Suddenly, my outlook on the event was a lot less jaded.