bracelet she bought herself. (Laney says the only relationship she has time for is the one with her clients.)
"It was fine up until now," I tell her and peer curiously at the unknown driver veering us to points unknown. "You guys are freaking me out. Why did you just kidnap me? Did you see Larry the Liar standing there? He must have shot a zillion pictures and they're all going to be online later."
Dad frowns. "Hmm . . . we didn't think about the paparazzi."
"I'll handle that," Laney insists. "This is more important. Your parents and I decided the only way to get a real answer out of you is to talk to you in person."
"For the zillionth time -- I was drinking seltzer!"
"We know that." Mom sounds agitated.
"I do want to address these new acquaintances you've made at a later time," Laney says ominously.
"This get-together is about your meeting with Seth," Mom explains. "We want to know why it hasn't happened yet. Is there something you're not telling us?"
"I've been busy." I squirm uncomfortably. They don't look convinced and I'm not sure I would be either. I could have met with Seth by now. I make time for everything else. I guess I haven't wanted to face the future yet. I have enough of a reality check every time I step on the FA soundstage. "I've had all these interviews and we've been filming long hours and doing promos," I remind them. "I haven't had the time."
"You need to make time!" Mom tells me, sounding annoyed. "Meeting with Seth is more important than anything else, Kaitlin. Finding your next project is crucial if you want to remain at the top of the Hollywood most-wanted list."
I feel my stomach begin to churn, like I'm on the verge of a major ache, and I feel slightly nauseous. Is getting another job that pressing? Does Mom think if I don't get something right away the public will forget about me before the next TV season starts?
Dad takes my hand. "I know you'll miss FA . I remember the day I gave up my 1977 Mustang," he says. "I thought I could never love another car as much as that one. Then I saw the 1982 Pontiac Firebird. It had leather seats and fifteen-inch aluminum wheels and I just knew it was the car for me. Sometimes you can open your heart to more than one automobile."
I squeeze his hand. I understand what Dad's saying.
"This is your moment to shine," Laney tells me, sounding like she's a king readying me for battle. "You need to show the world that you can play a part that's different from Samantha. Seth can help you do that."
"I know," I admit.
"If you're going to do a pilot, we need one now," Laney says. "Otherwise all that will be left is bland teenager parts on a bad sitcom with some C-level comedian."
"Or Dancing with the Stars ," Mom threatens.
I gasp. Dancing with the Stars is one of my biggest fears. I don't want my star to fall so far that I have to resort to learning the quick step and the mambo. I have to meet with Seth! I'll tell him what I'm looking for and if he doesn't have something I like, I won't take something for the sake of taking it. Who knows? Maybe Dad's right and I'll find something I like even more than I like playing Sam. "I'll set up a meeting right away," I promise, feeling suddenly confident. "Is that all you wanted? Because I was going to meet some friends for dinner. Maybe you could drop me off at Chateau Marmont."
Mom smiles serenely. "I'm afraid you'll have to cancel. We're on our way to Seth's office now."
"What?" I feel my self-esteem come crashing back to earth. Now? They want me to meet with Seth now? I'm not ready! My merlot-colored Abercrombie tunic feels like it is suffocating me and my Divine Rights of Denim jeans are glued to the leather seats. Does the driver have the air on? The nausea is coming back, and my stomach aches. I want to argue, but it's pointless. Nothing is getting me out of this meeting. Except maybe jumping from the car. That would hurt. Sigh. "How could you guys do this without asking me?"
Mom shrugs. "We knew you'd
"It was fine up until now," I tell her and peer curiously at the unknown driver veering us to points unknown. "You guys are freaking me out. Why did you just kidnap me? Did you see Larry the Liar standing there? He must have shot a zillion pictures and they're all going to be online later."
Dad frowns. "Hmm . . . we didn't think about the paparazzi."
"I'll handle that," Laney insists. "This is more important. Your parents and I decided the only way to get a real answer out of you is to talk to you in person."
"For the zillionth time -- I was drinking seltzer!"
"We know that." Mom sounds agitated.
"I do want to address these new acquaintances you've made at a later time," Laney says ominously.
"This get-together is about your meeting with Seth," Mom explains. "We want to know why it hasn't happened yet. Is there something you're not telling us?"
"I've been busy." I squirm uncomfortably. They don't look convinced and I'm not sure I would be either. I could have met with Seth by now. I make time for everything else. I guess I haven't wanted to face the future yet. I have enough of a reality check every time I step on the FA soundstage. "I've had all these interviews and we've been filming long hours and doing promos," I remind them. "I haven't had the time."
"You need to make time!" Mom tells me, sounding annoyed. "Meeting with Seth is more important than anything else, Kaitlin. Finding your next project is crucial if you want to remain at the top of the Hollywood most-wanted list."
I feel my stomach begin to churn, like I'm on the verge of a major ache, and I feel slightly nauseous. Is getting another job that pressing? Does Mom think if I don't get something right away the public will forget about me before the next TV season starts?
Dad takes my hand. "I know you'll miss FA . I remember the day I gave up my 1977 Mustang," he says. "I thought I could never love another car as much as that one. Then I saw the 1982 Pontiac Firebird. It had leather seats and fifteen-inch aluminum wheels and I just knew it was the car for me. Sometimes you can open your heart to more than one automobile."
I squeeze his hand. I understand what Dad's saying.
"This is your moment to shine," Laney tells me, sounding like she's a king readying me for battle. "You need to show the world that you can play a part that's different from Samantha. Seth can help you do that."
"I know," I admit.
"If you're going to do a pilot, we need one now," Laney says. "Otherwise all that will be left is bland teenager parts on a bad sitcom with some C-level comedian."
"Or Dancing with the Stars ," Mom threatens.
I gasp. Dancing with the Stars is one of my biggest fears. I don't want my star to fall so far that I have to resort to learning the quick step and the mambo. I have to meet with Seth! I'll tell him what I'm looking for and if he doesn't have something I like, I won't take something for the sake of taking it. Who knows? Maybe Dad's right and I'll find something I like even more than I like playing Sam. "I'll set up a meeting right away," I promise, feeling suddenly confident. "Is that all you wanted? Because I was going to meet some friends for dinner. Maybe you could drop me off at Chateau Marmont."
Mom smiles serenely. "I'm afraid you'll have to cancel. We're on our way to Seth's office now."
"What?" I feel my self-esteem come crashing back to earth. Now? They want me to meet with Seth now? I'm not ready! My merlot-colored Abercrombie tunic feels like it is suffocating me and my Divine Rights of Denim jeans are glued to the leather seats. Does the driver have the air on? The nausea is coming back, and my stomach aches. I want to argue, but it's pointless. Nothing is getting me out of this meeting. Except maybe jumping from the car. That would hurt. Sigh. "How could you guys do this without asking me?"
Mom shrugs. "We knew you'd
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