Read Online Secrets of My Hollywood Life: There’s No Place Like Home by Jen Calonita - Free Book Online

again, and I laugh. “I’ll call you after,” I promise as the valet opens
     the car door. I accept his hand as I step into the warm night air, then I walk along the Beverly Hills Hotel’s red carpet
     under the green-and-white-striped awning toward the entrance where doormen in black suits with striped cuffs are holding the
     doors open.
    I’ve just walked into the yellow hotel lobby with its huge chandelier hanging over the cozy seating area of low, fluted velvet
     chairs and 1950s palm-print carpet when I bump into Dad. He’s wearing a white polo shirt and khaki chinos, which means he
     either went golfing today or took a job at a chain restaurant.
    “Hi, Kate-Kate!” He hugs me gruffly. “I saw an early cut of your Takamodo Cruise Lines commercial today. You had that engine
     at full throttle, I could tell.” My dad uses car analogies for everything. Before he joined the family business (Hollywood),
     he was a car salesman. “Mom will be thrilled. She’s already talking about your next Japanese commercial.”
    “Thanks, Dad. Did you, uh, get to talk to Preston at all?” Dad’s been looking for his next producing project for a while,
     and he was hoping SF would be it, but the studio had enough people attached. It’s not like Dad has a major track record yet. He’s worked on a
     few of my projects that Seth negotiated into my contracts, but Dad’s own production business hasn’t, um, well, ever really
     taken off.
    Dad coughs. “Well, you know, Preston’s a busy man. Very busy.” He looks around and reaches for an antique end table to lean
     casually. “I only saw him for a second when I stopped by his studio. He said he’d give me a call tomorrow or next week.” His
     voice trails off. “He’s not sure if he has any producing needs right now.”
    “Oh.” I lower my eyes and stare at my shoes. “I’m sure he’ll call, Dad. Or someone else you’ve pitched ideas to will.”
    Dad runs his hands through his thick, dark hair. “It is too bad Small Fries didn’t need me, but business is business. I can’t work on all your projects.” I nod knowingly.
    “And besides, I’m plenty busy between watching you and needing to be on set with Matty,” Dad reminds himself. “Then there
     is the house to consider—your mom wants to remodel, the pool needs updating, and I’ve been looking at cars for you.” He smiles,
     his teeth blinding me. “Your first ride is the one you’ll always remember, Kate-Kate.”
    “We don’t need to decide just yet,” I say nervously. Just thinking about getting my license after all this time makes me freak
     out.
    “True,” Dad agrees. “It’s a good thing, I guess, because I am not liking what I’m seeing at these Beverly Hills dealerships.
     These salesmen just don’t know how to sell a car! It’s appalling. I mean, in my day, we cared about the customer first and
     the sale second. These guys heard the last name Burke and they tried to sell me every car in the place in the first fifteen
     minutes. Before I even took a test drive!”
    “Terrible,” I agree, looking around for the others. I guess we haven’t been seated in the restaurant yet. “What are you doing
     out here anyway? Is there a wait for a table?”
    Dad shakes his head. “We’re all inside already. I came out here to check on your mom. She had to take a phone call.” He motions
     to my right and I see a tall woman with honey blond hair that closely resembles my own sitting on a velvet chair. She’s wearing
     a black Elie Tahari pantsuit, and a large, turquoise, beaded necklace tangles over her low-cut, cream silk tank top. She taps
     one cream Gucci heel nervously. Mom doesn’t seem to see me.
    “Was that today?” I hear her say to someone on the phone while she consults one of two very thick notebooks. Papers are sticking
     out of all ends. “I’m so sorry. I had it down for tomorrow at three.” She laughs. “I don’t know where my head is. I probably
     left it someplace