Maeve on the Red Carpet (11 page)

“What does a personal assistant do? Is that like a butler?” I asked.
Way to be a total ditz, Maeve. Butler? Oh no …

But Kenneth just smiled kindly and explained, “Something like that. I run Mr. Von Krupcake’s household and arrange some of his business affairs.”

I nodded. It was probably better for me to just smile and stop talking. Kenneth was too dreamy—Maddie had to be the luckiest girl ever. Still, I couldn’t imagine asking him to do anything for me. It just seemed so weird! “Thanks, Kenneth,” I managed to say.

“Miss Madeline is upstairs. I shall show you to her wing.” Then Kenneth started to grab my black velvet sleepover bag right out of my hand.

I tightened my grip and cried, “What are you doing?”

Kenneth seemed just as startled as me then he started to chuckle. “Oh no, I’m sorry, Maeve. I was going to carry up your bags for you. You are the guest of honor.”

I wanted to shrivel up and disappear on the spot! Wow, talk about not being used to the life of luxury. I’d have a thing or two to tell the BSG after this for sure!

I followed Kenneth through the front hall and up a long, winding marble staircase. The walls were covered with large oil paintings that were full of color, just like the ones I’d seen at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. At the top of the staircase, in a fancy gold frame, was the largest portrait of all. It was of Maddie in a long purple dress holding Fitzy in her arms. Purple velvet drapes hung on either side of the picture. “We close the drapes when it gets too sunny so the paint doesn’t fade,” Kenneth explained.

We walked down a long, lavish hallway. It felt like it went on forever. Finally we got to a large door with a gold plaque on it that said “Madeline” in script. Kenneth rapped on the door and I heard Maddie’s voice chirp, “Enter.”

When Kenneth opened the door I gasped and covered
my mouth with my hand. Madeline’s room made my pink palace seem like a shoe box. First of all—it wasn’t just a room, it was a … hotel suite fit for a princess.

Maddie was sitting cozily on a green satin sofa next to two matching chairs and a coffee table. There was a sterling silver tea set on the coffee table and two plates—cookies and scones on one and cheese and crackers on the other. Steam was even rising from the teapot.

“Maeve, darling. You’re just in time for cocoa,” Maddie said, patting the couch beside her. She took a sip out of her cup with her little pinky sticking straight up in the air.

Seriously, I could not believe her room. Right then, I really did feel like Little Orphan Annie seeing Daddy Warbucks’s mansion for the first time. I used to think that canopy beds were the ultimate in dreaminess …
until
I saw Maddie’s bed. It was humongous and draped in luxurious fabric right smack in the middle of her room. But the best part was the lace veil that hung from her ceiling and covered her bedposts like a curtain of mist. It reminded me of the dreamy bed in the movie version of
The Secret Garden
. I always thought that kind of bed was so romantic, but I’d never seen one in person until now …

Maddie had the most spectacular view. Her enormous windows opened up to a balcony that looked right over the Boston Common and the Massachusetts State House with its gold dome. I could imagine rehearsing lines out there on a sunny day with my big sunglasses. Maybe I’d be practicing a song and a cute boy walking on the
sidewalk below would hear my voice and become completely enchanted. Anyway … a girl could dream.

“Now, Maeve darling, come over and have a cup of this delicious hot cocoa,” Maddie called.

Kenneth poured a stream of creamy chocolate liquid into a porcelain tea cup, scooped out a dollop of whipped cream from a silver bowl, and plopped it in with a little splash. “I’ve got to go help your father now, Miss Maddie. He’s organizing a Krupcake convention in Baltimore. Call down when you two are ready for dinner.”

Kenneth waved and shut the door behind him.

“So, darling, what do think of my little home?” Maddie tucked her blond hair behind her ear and smiled sweetly.

“
Little home?
Maddie, this place is huge! The hallways go on, like, forever.”

Maddie shrugged. “I guess it just seems little compared to our cottage in the Hamptons. Maeve, have you been to the Hamptons? It’s so fabulous.”

I shook my head. Why did Maddie always call things “little” or “cottage” when what she really meant was just the opposite?

“Now, Maeve, that outfit, it’s
really
not quite right.” Maddie looked disapprovingly at me. She had told me that the dress code for the night was comfy-casual, but here Maddie was wearing a short, cream-colored dress with a pearl necklace and pearl earrings. A white fur shawl rested over her shoulders. Meanwhile, I had thrown on a terrycloth pink sweat suit. I should’ve known that in the Von
Krupcake household, comfy-casual meant a whole other league altogether.

“I’m sorry … I left all my dresses at home …” I began.

“Well, that little jogging ensemble you have on will simply not do. We’re just going to have to find you something more suitable, I suppose.” Maddie pressed a button on what looked like a TV clicker resting on her coffee table. Two large doors in front of us split open, revealing another room filled with clothes and accessories. The sides of the room were lined with shelves of shoes—so many shoes it looked like a department store. The room was mostly a closet that seemed to stretch back to infinity. Maddie pressed another button on the clicker and suddenly, the closet started
moving
.

I gasped and Maddie giggled. “Daddy designed it like a dry cleaning place. Isn’t he too brilliant?” she sighed and pressed a button that made the closet stop. “There. I have the perfect frock for you.” I loved the way she said “frock.” Maddie just had the cutest way of saying things.

Maddie floated over to the rack and my heart nearly skipped a beat. Maddie walked straight up to a long pink satin gown with a thick pink belt and enormous bow in the back. It looked just like the famous one from this old movie I saw once—
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
.

But instead of grabbing the glorious pink dress, Maddie grunted and reached in
behind
it. “Come on, I know it’s around here somewhere,” she said, groping through the fabric. “Ah-hah! Here we go!” Maddie pulled out a
garment zipped in a plastic dress bag and skipped back over to the loveseat.

“Maeve, this is going to look
darling
on you. It’s just like the dress Audrey Hepburn wore in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
… and I know Audrey’s your idol.”

I felt positively tickled. Maddie was such an amazing friend. She even remembered who my all-time favorite actress was. With her perfect, pearly nails, Maddie unzipped the bag and out fell … a black, checkered piece of fabric. The material looked totally dull, and there wasn’t even a waist on it. This dress did NOT look anything like
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
… except for maybe the breakfast
tablecloth
at Tiffany’s.

“Voilà! Isn’t it darling?” Maddie gushed and thrust the dress at me.

“Um, it’s okay …” I began hesitantly. I didn’t want to be rude, but this dress was so not my style.

“Try it on!” Maddie insisted.

“Well, it looks a little long actually. I was thinking maybe I could try that pink dress over there …” I pointed nervously at the fab gown with the ginormous bow.

Maddie threw her hand over her mouth and laughed—hard. “Oh, Maeve, you are just the most adorable thing! That pink dress is a collector’s item. It’s from a famous movie. Oh dear, of course you can’t wear that to dinner, silly. Now be a lamb and put this on. It’s a genuine Chanel.”

I didn’t care
who
it was. The dress was absolutely hideous. I looked over and saw Maddie’s concerned face. I
knew she was only trying to be helpful so I swallowed and slipped the dress over my shoulders. Maddie buttoned the back and sighed. “There. Perfect. Go look in my mirror.”

I tiptoed across the room. I
had
to tiptoe, because the dress was so narrow that I couldn’t take normal-size steps. Finally, I reached the little platform in front of a three-way mirror. I suddenly felt dizzy.

“You see? Classic glamour,” Maddie declared.

Classic glamour? No way! It was a classic glamour DON’T. I could just see me now in the back of
Glam-girl
magazine in this drape-y disaster with a black line covering my eyes (that’s what the editors did to protect the innocent). And I WAS totally innocent … how was I supposed to know comfy-casual meant black tie? But I just swallowed and echoed, “Classic glamour.”

“Come now. Let’s go to dinner!” Maddie flounced over to her intercom and pressed the button. “Kenneth, we’re ready now. Announce us to Mummy and Daddy.”

The intercom buzzed and Kenneth’s voice crackled through: “Of course, Miss Madeline.”

The dining room was gorgeous—like, castle gorgeous—with a long table that could’ve sat thirty-ish people … maybe more. The centerpiece in the middle was a marble sculpture of a plate of Krupcake’s Pies and Cakes. The table looked especially empty because only four people were there—Maddie, her parents, and me—the girl in the tablecloth dress. Kenneth pulled out my
chair and I sat down, but I wasn’t sure what to think of the bowl of green liquid in front of me.

“Cold cucumber soup,” Kenneth whispered when he saw my confused look.

I nodded. Now I really wasn’t sure what to think.
Cold
soup? We didn’t eat cold soup in the Kaplan-Taylor house, but my parents always told me try new things at least once to see if I liked them. I wouldn’t let Mom and Dad down, even if this soup did look like my face cream.

Mr. Von Krupcake was at the head of the table with Mrs. Von Krupcake beside him. Lucky for Maddie she looked just like her mom … who could have doubled for Grace Kelly with her pretty blond hair and sparkling almond eyes.

“Darling, this is Mr. Taylor’s daughter, Maeve,” Mr. Von Krupcake said. “She’s the one I was telling you about … the girl with the big red curls.”

Without thinking, I reached up and stroked my hair.
Was that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?
I wondered, finally taking a tiny sip of the soup. It wasn’t bad, but the whole “cold” part kind of freaked me out.

“You’re right, Walter. She looks just a bit like a precious Little Orphan Annie. How charming. Maeve, I’m Maddie’s mother, Clarissa Von Krupcake. Maddie tells me you want to be an actress too.”

“Oh my gosh, yes. It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember. My dad owns the Movie House so—”

“How fortunate for you that you can have a mentor like my Maddie around,” Mr. Von Krupcake interrupted.
“You must feel lucky to have the opportunity to work with a real professional.”

“Yeah, it’s cool.” I gave Maddie a smile.

“Our little Krupcake Princess!” Mrs. Von Krupcake squeezed Maddie’s hand. “Darling, how
do
you deal with all the autographs? It must be so exhausting.”

Maddie nodded sadly. “I despise the paparazzi. They are soooo intrusive,” she lamented.

Wow
! I hadn’t seen any kids ask Maddie for her autograph, but I didn’t say anything. Maybe I had missed all of that while I was helping Apollo move the couch.

“Maddie’s agent is going to have so many auditions lined up for Maddie after they see her work in film camp. You know what would be the perfect part for you, darling?”

“What?” Maddie asked in a pouting voice, still acting wounded over the hounding hoards of paparazzi.

“
Regally Blonde
—you could play Elle Woods’s more beautiful and wealthier younger sister,” Mrs. Von Krupcake decided. “Walter, you should call Reese and see if she’d be interested in collaborating. Matt Damon could write the script and set it right here in Boston.”

“Hee hee, ha ha, how divine!” Mr. Von Krupcake clapped enthusiastically.

I was speechless. The Von Krupcakes just threw names around as if they could make this stuff actually happen. Maybe they could. All of a sudden, I was starting to feel like the most boring, ordinary person in the world. Maybe becoming an actress wasn’t about hard work, talent, and
dedication. What you really needed to make a movie wasn’t a dad who owned a movie house—it was a dad who could buy a movie empire. After all, I was just Little Orphan Annie with the big red curls … while Maddie was a princess who could sail right through to Hollywood. Suddenly, all I wanted was to go home and snuggle into my bed in my own very pink palace … even if it was more like a pink shoe box compared to Maddie’s room.

“Speaking of divine,” Maddie began, “Maeve, you simply must visit our cottage in the Hamptons over the summer!”

Suddenly the gray cloud that had formed over my head totally disappeared. Did somebody say the Hamp-tons?
Beaches and movie stars and shells … oh my!

“… Oh, it’s sooo fabulous, Maeve. You have NO idea. All we do is swim, play tennis, go to parties, sunbathe on the gorgeous beaches, and eat at the most expensive restaurants. Plus, it’s where all the big celebs go on vacay.” (Of course, I already knew that. I always kept up with my celebrity gossip magazines.)

As Kenneth served the main course (a delicious beef tenderloin with roasted potatoes and grilled asparagus), I imagined lying on the beach wearing a pink, polka-dot bathing suit, a big straw beach hat, and my oversized Jackie O glasses, all while sipping a strawberry smoothie. I would so enjoy the life of luxury. The photographers would flock to get a snapshot of the blonde and red-haired society girls—and future movie stars
extraordinaire
. Count me in.

Maddie took a bite of her beef tenderloin. She was so dainty and graceful, I wondered if she’d ever been to one of those fancy finishing schools, like rich girls in the movies. I tried my best to copy how she was eating … it was good practice for my future Hollywood galas.

“Last year Apollo and Artemia stayed with us during July and Apollo taught me to surf. I was a natural. Maybe he’d teach you too, Maeve,” said Maddie.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I remembered how disappointed Apollo was in me today. His idea of a life of glamour was very different from Maddie’s … but Maddie’s seemed way more fun. I was all about meeting famous people and sunbathing and going to parties with former child stars! The BSG were never going to believe this. Never.