Read Online Confessions of a Hollywood Star by Dyan Sheldon - Free Book Online Page A

Mr Triolo’s always been a man I associate with flour and cheese, and not with a carefree, exuberant nature, but now he gave me a playful poke with the menu. “I’ll give you a hint. The guy’s producing that movie they’re making here.”
    Sam groaned out loud. “For Chrissake, Sal. Not you, too.”
    Mr Triolo and I both ignored him.
    “Really? Hal Minsky?” I’d read his name in the local paper. Nonetheless, I wasn’t sure Mr Triolo could be trusted on matters of Hollywood trivia. He once boasted that he hadn’t gone to a movie since John Wayne died. “Are you sure?”
    Mr Triolo nodded. “Waitress heard them talking when she brought them their drinks. That’s when she recognized the young lady.”
    I squinted into the gloom at the rear of the restaurant. I could make out a few golden locks peeking out from the woman’s hat. But it was the mouth that gave her away. The collagen injections made it look infected.
    Because of Sam’s lousy attitude about the movie and everything connected to it, I hid my excitement. “Why that’s Lucy Rio, isn’t it?” I made it sound like I was identifying a pizza by its ingredients; mozzarella and goat’s cheese with capers, why that must be the house special.
    “Thatta girl.” Mr Triolo gave me a playful wink. “Got it in one. I knew you’d know.” He tapped his chest. “Me? I wouldn’t know who she was unless she was wearing a nametag.”
    Having woken me up, Mr Triolo returned to discussing his car with Sam. I waited until they were deep in the world of spark plugs and pistons and then, very casually, I excused myself to go the ladies’ room. The door that leads to the ladies’ room is opposite the corner where Lucy Rio and the producer were sitting.
    I walked slowly and calmly, a girl with nothing on her mind but checking that her mascara hadn’t gone spiky. When I got close to their table, I stopped to look at one of the pictures on the wall (Mrs Triolo with Goofy at Disney World).
    “For the last time, Lucy, it’s impossible,” Hal Minsky was saying. “There isn’t enough room at the Santinis’ for another fifty people. You’ll have to live without the astrologer, the herbalist, the psychic and the aromatherapist for a few weeks.”
    So much for Lucy Rio not being spoiled by being a big star.
    “I don’t see why we can’t go to a hotel,” said Lucy Rio.
    “And have the press camped outside for the duration? Have you forgotten what a bad mood having the press camped outside puts you in?”
    “Not as bad a mood as living under the same roof as that jerk Bret Fork,” she snapped back.
    And so much for the rumour that Lucy Rio and Bret Fork were secretly dating.
    “You won’t say that if they get hold of that story about your father.”
    Lucy sniffled and her voice quivered. “That’s my father’s problem, not mine. I’m just an innocent victim.”
    Hal Minsky sighed. “And that’s another thing. Enough of the fights and tantrums. You haven’t been there forty-eight hours yet and already you’re—”
    Obviously, not as nice as she could be.
    Suddenly aware of my presence, Hal Minsky glanced over at me. Acting as though I didn’t even know they were there, I gave Goofy and Mrs Triolo one last affectionate smile and casually stepped through the door marked Toilets.
    I locked myself in the far cubicle so I wouldn’t be disturbed while I rehearsed what I was going to say. I didn’t want to be too obvious (Lucy Rio once threw a bag of poo at a photographer for trying to take a picture of her scooping up after her dog), so I’d pretend that it was Hal Minsky I recognized. “Excuse me,” I’d say. “I don’t want to bother you, but don’t I know you from somewhere? You seem really familiar. Do you work around here?” Then, to throw him off his guard, I’d say, “Maybe in the Walmart? Or at the gas station?” Then – suddenly and with an endearing touch of embarrassment – I’d recognize him. “Oh, I don’t believe it,”