Read Online Reality Check by Jen Calonita - Free Book Online

apologetically as I hurry through Susan's open door and away from the stampede.
    “Charlie! Mr. and Mrs. Reed! I'm so glad you could make it today.” Susan is sitting behind a large mahogany desk, but as soon as she sees me, she springs up and extends her tanned, toned arm. A diamond tennis bracelet dangles on her delicate wrist. Her hair is down again today, ironed straight, and she's wearing a fitted black pantsuit. “I'm sorry I haven't been down to see you yet today. It's a little hectic around here. Things have been going well, I hope?”
    “Absolutely. We're having a lovely time,” Mom says, sounding as if we've popped over for tea. She takes in the high-tech, sleek-but-cold room around her. “And please, call me Katherine.”
    Susan's office is huge, and one side is completely covered in floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto Times Square. On the other three walls hang awards and photographs of Susan with more celebrities. There's a large, framed poster of the annual Fire and Ice Charity Ball autographed by last year's celebrity attendees. Susan's desk is metal, and her chairs are orange molded plastic ones that look cheap, but you know they aren't. Otherwise, the office is pretty empty, like she is moving. There are no papers on her desk, just a state-of-the-art iMac, a desk blotter, and a small clock.
    “Have a seat.” Susan motions to the chairs in front of her desk. There are two, but someone has brought in a few folding chairs and Dad sits awkwardly on one. He's pretty tall and his knees hit Susan's desk when he sits down.
    “I wanted to meet with each of you girls one final time,” Susan says efficiently, sitting down and placing her elbows on her desk. “I wanted to make sure you didn't have any other questions before I send you off to sign papers with your lawyer and ours. After that, we wanted to have you film an interview where we'll gather more information about you for the show. Then you can have dinner,” she says with an easy smile. “We made reservations for everyone at Gagliano's, this great Italian restaurant, and the bill is on us.”
    “That works for me.” Dad laughs loudly and I cringe.
    “What kind of interview do you have to do with the girls today?” Mom asks.
    “Just standard questions,” Susan says as she focuses directly on each of us. “Things we need to know about the girls before we start so our producers can shape the show and get a better feel for the subjects they're dealing with.”
    “Shape?” Mom asks quizzically.
    “Yes, well, as you all know, this is a reality show, but like most of our programming, it's scripted reality,” Susan says, and drums her pale pink manicured nails on the desk. “I promise, Katherine, everything we ask is benign. You can even sit in on Charlie's interview if you want.”
    “I had one question, Susan,” I pipe up. “What exactly is scripted reality? I've heard you mention it before, but I'm not sure what that means. Do we have to memorize lines and act things out? I'm not a good actress.” I couldn't even remember my one line (“Santa is on his way!”) in the first-grade Christmas pageant.
    “I may have to disagree with that,” Dad says with a twinkle in his eye. “You should see her try to win us over to meet the girls for ice cream on a school night.”
    “Dad,” I say through gritted teeth.
    Susan laughs. “One of the things I love about you, Charlie, is how charismatic you are. If we wanted a professional actress for this, we would have hired one. We want you to be
you.
I've seen you in action with your friends and at work, so I'm not worried about personality at all. That's why you're our lead girl. You're a star with your friends and I think our viewers will really gravitate toward what you have to say. When I say scripted, I mean we know what each episode is about before we start filming.” Susan's phone starts ringing and she presses a button to mute it. I can see the tiny blue light still flashing and I