"So do you have to do lunch with your friend?" Ava whines. "We're more fun."

"Ditch her!" Lauren seconds. We all laugh. "Seriously though, when are we getting together? We'd have so much fun."

"I know," I lament. Hanging with these two really does seem like a great escape. "Maybe this week?"

Click. Click. Click.

I turn around and see Gary, Ava and Lauren's favorite paparazzo. That guy is everywhere! Ava turns me to face him. "Smile!" she says. The two of them hold up their loot from Barneys.

"What'd you get?" I say in between grins.

"A few sweaters, a cute necklace," Ava tells me. "It's rotten when you have to pay full price."

HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER SEVEN: I've already told you that celebrities get a lot of their clothing for free, but when we shop retail we pay for things just like everyone else. Yes, many companies like the Gap send me clothes, but when I'm trying on jeans at the Grove, no employee comes over and says, "You can have those for free." Freebies come directly from corporate. Smaller shops like Becky in Bloom give discount cards to their preferred customers (i.e., the celebrity quotient), but others go one step further. If I bring an armload of clothes up to the counter at a boutique and the designer is there, they'll often tell me they're on the house. I'm usually so embarrassed that I insist on paying for a few items.

When Gary is done taking pictures, I turn to Ava and Lauren. I can hear the seconds tick away in my head. "Guys, I have to go."

They both groan. "Cancel!" Lauren moans.

"I'll call you!" I promise them. I look at my watch. I'm now half an hour late. Yikes. I push through the restaurant doors and scan the room for Liz. The hostess sees me and smiles. "Kaitlin Burke, right? I'll show you where your friends are sitting," she says.

Sometimes it really does help when strangers know who you are.

Liz and Mikayla are at a booth in the back of the restaurant. Liz sees me and waves. She's wearing one of her trademark head scarves over her long, dark hair and her olive skin looks great in a peach Chanel sweater that we got at Fred Segal right before she left for Hawaii. Mikayla is sitting next to her.

I can't deny Mikayla's pretty. She's got long, curly red hair, and porcelain-white skin that reminds me of a China doll. Her slightly round face is dotted with freckles. I can't see her whole outfit, but she looks very J.Crew from where I'm standing. Her green cable-knit sweater and pleated khaki skirt stand out in a sea of J. Brands and Stella McCartneys that usually dot the patrons at the Grove. I look at Mikayla and smile. "You must be Mikayla," I say as warmly as possible. "It's nice to meet you."

"That's me," she says, and shakes my hand. I notice her give me a complete once-over as I take my seat. "How were your meetings?"