Confessions of a Hollywood Star Read Online Free Page B

from the back, cloaking my curiosity in professional concern.
    “I couldn’t help overhearing…” I hesitated, not wanting to interfere, but wanting to give what aid and succour I could. “It sounds like you’re looking for something specific.” I smiled – shyly, modestly. In my experience, nothing breaks the ice with strangers faster than a laugh shared. “If I can be of some help – I know our inventory better than Robert DeNiro knows Martin Scorcese.”
    When she stopped laughing, the older one looked me up and down, and was obviously satisfied from my outfit (I’d been in a retro-hippie mood when I got dressed that morning – skirt made out of an old pair of jeans and tie-dyed T-shirt) that she could rely on my judgement.
    “Well, as a matter of fact,” she said, “we’re going to be shooting a movie nearby and we’re looking for some things – especially vintage clothes from the fifties.”
    My smile was brighter than a Klieg light.
    “You’ve come to the right place,” I said.

Hooray For Hollywood!
    I made much better time getting home than I had getting to work, but of course I was a lot more motivated on my return journey. I had news I couldn’t wait to tell.
    “Hooray for Hollywood!” I sang as I flashed through the leafy, anodyne streets of suburbia. I was going to be in a movie. Obviously I knew I wasn’t going to get a major part, but I’d been so totally helpful, charming and entertaining to Leslie and Shona that I felt confident that some small but not insignificant role would be mine. You know , they’d say to the director, we met this amazing girl in the secondhand clothes store … you’ve really got to meet her … she has so much star potential!
    The lawn sprinklers waved at me like fans at the Oscars as I sped towards home. “Hooray for Hollywood!” Tinsel Town may have crushed the dreams of millions of starving would-be stars, but it was going to make at least one of my dreams come true: the one where Carla Santini ate sand.
    My mother and the twins were in the kitchen when I arrived. I would have ignored them and gone straight to the phone to call Ella, since she’s far more interested in my life than any of my relatives, but the domestic tableau that greeted me made me stop in surprise. Karen Kapok was at the stove, stirring like a witch at her cauldron, and Paula and Pam were mauling vegetables at the table.
    “Good God!” I cried. “You’re cooking! Don’t tell me the President’s coming for supper.”
    My mother glanced at me over her shoulder. “Actually, I thought Sam was coming for supper.”
    So much had happened today that I’d totally forgotten she’d invited him over for a meal to celebrate our graduation.
    “Of course he is.” I laughed as though I’d been joking.
    Pam looked up from her attack on the spinach. “How could you forget that?” she demanded. (No prizes for guessing who she takes after.)
    “As it happens,” I said, “I’ve had other things on my mind: more exciting things than watching Sam see how many calories he can take in at one sitting.”
    Paula bit into the carrot she was supposed to be slicing for the salad. “Like what?”
    I’m used to skepticism, ridicule and an appalling lack of interest from my family, but I was too excited to let this stop me from sharing my news. I smiled in a casual, understated kind of way. “It just so happens that they’re making a movie right here in Dellwood, that’s what.”
    For once an announcement of mine actually got the right reaction from my sisters. They dropped their knives and vegetables and began jumping up and down.
    “Really? A movie? Here?” shrieked Pam.
    “Do you think they’re looking for a set of twins?” Paula is by far the more practical of the two.
    I said I’d see if I could put a good word in for them with the director.
    Karen Kapok, immersed as she is in earth, asked, “And where did you hear this?”
    I told her where I’d heard it.
    “And what makes you