Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection

Home > Literature > Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection > Page 63
Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection Page 63

by Lauren Weisberger


  ‘Sure thing, I hear you,’ I said with faux cheeriness while removing Philip’s hand from where it currently resided – my inner thigh – and tapping it the way a grandmother might. ‘Thanks, Kell. See you Monday.’

  The cars pulled up single file along Twenty-seventh Street and I saw that the line was almost a hundred people, all of whom stared, slack-jawed, as we exited the fleet of cars in our outrageous costumes. Sammy was standing off to one side while a man from the party wearing a long blond wig and very high heels yelled at him. I tried to get his attention as we cut in front of the entire line, but another bouncer approached us first.

  ‘How many are you?’ he asked Philip pleasantly, giving no indication that he knew who anyone was.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, man, forty? Sixty? Who bloody knows?’

  ‘Sorry, dude – not tonight,’ the doorman replied, turning his back. ‘Private party.’

  ‘My man, I don’t think you understand. …’ Philip clapped him on the back and the bouncer looked like he might deck him, but then he noticed the credit card Philip was brandishing – the one and only Black Card. The negotiations began.

  ‘I only have three tables right now. I’ll let in six per table and an additional ten people, but that’s the best I can do,’ he said. ‘Any other night, no problem, but tonight it’s really out of my hands.’

  This guy was clearly new and had no idea who he was dealing with, and Philip looked like he was ready to let him know. His voice tight and controlled, he got within three inches of the bouncer’s face and said, ‘Look, man, I don’t give a toss what your problem is. Caleb is one of my closest mates and it’s his party. Three tables is bullshit. I want six tables, starting with two bottles apiece, and everyone admitted. Now.’

  I noticed Sammy finishing his conversation and tried to slink away from the front as quietly as possible so I could lose myself in the crowd; I was desperate not to let him see me with Philip. All around me, guys were working their cell phones, calling anyone and everyone they knew who might get the bouncer to release the velvet rope; girls approached the doormen with puppy eyes, stroking their arms and quietly making their pleas for admittance. Sammy walked toward Philip and caught my eye as I moved closer again to hear what was happening. I fervently hoped he would tell them all to fuck off, to take their money and party elsewhere, but he just looked quickly at me again and addressed the other bouncer.

  ‘Anthony, let them in.’

  Anthony, who’d already been surprisingly accommodating and nonconfrontational, appeared dismayed at this development and began to argue. ‘Dude, they have like eighty fucking people. I don’t care how much cash they got, it’s my ass on the line if—’

  ‘I said let them in. Clear out whatever tables you need to and give them whatever they want. Do it now.’ And with that, Sammy glanced at me one last time and stepped inside the door, leaving Anthony to handle us.

  ‘See there, mate?’ Philip gloated, unable to help himself, assuming it was his fame that had secured our entrance. ‘Do what the good man said. Take this card here and get us our goddamn tables. You can handle that, can’t you?’

  Anthony took the Black Card, his hands shaking with rage, and held the door open for the forty or so of us who had already arrived. The line quieted as we filed inside, and everyone tried to see the famous among us.

  ‘There’s Johnny Depp!’ I heard one girl stage-whisper.

  ‘Ohmigod! Is that Philip Weston?’ asked another.

  ‘He dated Gwyneth, didn’t he?’ one of the guys said.

  Philip swelled with noticeable pride and directed me to the table that the mâitre d’ had just emptied for us. The evicted party stood a few feet away, holding their drinks, their faces flush with shame as we took our seats around the banquette.

  Philip pulled me onto his lap and rubbed my leg, kneading it in that way that tickles uncomfortably and hurts at the same time. He mixed me a vodka tonic using the $400 bottle of Grey Goose that was immediately deposited at our table, and greeted every single person who walked past by name, occasionally burying his face in my neck.

  During one of these burrowings, he rested his chin on my shoulder and gazed at the model sitting next to me, legs crossed seductively, face in her hands, elbows on her knees, nipple tassels slipping slightly off-center.

  ‘Just look at her,’ he whispered, his voice husky, his eyes fixed on the youngest-looking girl of all. ‘Look how she imitates the older models, watching how they move their hips, their eyes, their mouths, and doing exactly that because she knows it’s sexy. She’s just growing into that body of hers, doesn’t quite realize what she possesses, and she’s learning like a newly hatched chick. Isn’t it smashing to watch?’

  Mmm, absolutely smashing. Downright gripping, actually, I thought, but I just shook him off and announced I’d be right back. He nearly fell on her as I untangled myself from him, and I heard him complimenting her directly as I walked toward the front of the club.

  Elisa was draped across an attractive man at a banquette near the door, her head and shoulders leaning against his chest while her bare feet – still red with sandal-strap lines – rested in Davide’s lap. She didn’t appear to be too concerned – or even aware of – the BlackBerry situation. I wasn’t sure she was conscious or even alive until I got close enough to see her concave stomach rise and fall with the slightest motion.

  ‘Bette, honey, there you are!’ She mustered enough energy to make herself heard over the music even though she probably hadn’t consumed enough calories that day to remain in a standing position. I decided to address the BlackBerry debacle another time.

  ‘Hey,’ I mumbled, displaying my lack of enthusiasm.

  ‘Come here. I want you to meet the most talented skin-care therapist in Manhattan. Marco, this is Bette. Bette, Marco.’

  ‘Aesthetician,’ he immediately corrected.

  I’d been on my way to thank Sammy, but there was no avoiding putting in at least a few minutes at their table. I sat down and immediately poured myself a vodka tonic. ‘Hi, Marco, nice to meet you. How do you know Elisa?’

  ‘How do I know Elisa? Why, I like to think I can claim responsibility for that flawless, glowing skin!’ He held her head between his manicured fingers and thrust it toward me as though it were an inanimate object. ‘Here, look. Do you see this evenness? Do you see the complete and utter lack of blemishes or discoloration? This is achievement!’ He spoke with a slight Spanish accent and much flourish.

  ‘Mmm, she does look great. Maybe you could help me out sometime,’ I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else.

  ‘Mmm,’ he said back, examining my face. ‘I’m not so sure about that.’

  I took that as my cue to excuse myself, but Elisa hoisted herself into a sitting position and said, ‘Darlings, amuse yourselves for a few minutes while Davide and I say hello to a few friends.’

  I looked up to see Davide lean forward so the table would obscure his hands. He deftly opened Elisa’s white and gold Dior bag on the floor, removed a key from its ring, poured white powder from a tiny packet into the key’s longest groove, and held it quickly up to his nose. His hand covered the entire key, and if you weren’t watching very closely, it wouldn’t look like anything more than a casual nose itch, perhaps a little allergy sniffle. He refilled it within a second or two and passed it invisibly to Elisa, who also worked so quickly that I wasn’t even sure what had passed under her nose or when. Another few seconds and the key ring was back in her purse and the two were jumping out of their seats, ready to work the room.

  ‘They could at least have offered us some, don’t you think?’ Marco asked.

  ‘Yeah, I guess so,’ I said, not quite sure whether to announce that I’d never tried it, and while I was immensely curious, I was more scared.

  Marco sighed meaningfully and took a long pull from his drink.

  ‘Rough day?’ I asked, again unsure of both how to proceed or escape.

  ‘You can say that again. Elisa fuck
ed up my schedule again. She knows how much I hate it when she passes out in my chair.’ Another sigh.

  ‘She passed out? Is she okay?’

  His huge eye roll was followed by a long, exhausted exhalation. ‘Look at her – does she look okay to you? Hey, I’m all about starving yourself – I’ve certainly had to do it myself a few times – but you’ve got to take responsibility for your actions! You know when you’re about to pass out! There are little flashes of light before your eyes and you get really dizzy. Your body does this to let you know that it’s time to take a bite of that PowerBar you should be toting around for occasions like this. You gotta heed the warnings, you know, and get the hell out of my chair, or else you’re going to screw up my entire schedule.’

  I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this, so I just sat and listened.

  ‘These girls think they can come in after a long week of nose drugs and no food and just conk out in my chair and I’ll take care of them. Well, that used to be okay, but I’ve got better things to do now. The way I see it, it’s the same as some heroin junkie: I couldn’t care less if you’re using, man, just don’t overdose in my home because then it becomes my problem. You know?’

  I nodded. The world is lucky to have a guy as sensitive as Marco, I thought.

  ‘People have it worse than I do, though,’ he continued earnestly. ‘Friend of mine’s a makeup artist. He brings one case of makeup with him, and another of PowerBars and fruit-juice boxes because the girls are always conking out on him. At least when mine faint in the chair, I don’t have to start all over. He also usually sees them right before big events, at their hungriest, since they’ve been on super-starvation to fit into their dresses. It’s tough, man. They leave us to pick up the pieces.’

  ‘Yeah, I hear that. Listen, it was really nice to meet you, but I’ve got to run and say hi to a friend. Will you be here for a few minutes?’ I asked, realizing that if I didn’t escape soon, it might never happen.

  ‘Sure, whatever, great to meet you. Catch you later.’ He nodded in my direction before leaning over to mix another drink.

  I wanted to find Sammy and thank him for what he’d done, maybe explain that I was not there as Philip’s date or his girlfriend or even by choice, but by the time I fought past the door crowd – which seemed to have expanded exponentially in the last hour – Sammy was nowhere in sight.

  ‘Hey, have you seen Sammy?’ I asked Anthony, trying to sound casual.

  He appeared to have calmed down since our last interaction and shook his head while glancing over his clipboard.

  ‘Nah, he headed out early to meet his girl. Left me here alone for one of the biggest parties of the year. Wouldn’t usually do that, so it musta been important. Why, you gotta problem? I’ll try and help you in a few when I get rid of some of these people.’

  ‘No, no problem. Just wanted to say hi.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he’ll be back tomorrow.’

  I bummed a cigarette from a guy in an emerald green prom dress and willed myself to go back inside. I didn’t have to, though. The party had come to me.

  ‘Bette! I was hoping I’d see you here!’ Abby screeched as her behemoth breasts threatened to overtake her entire face. ‘You should be inside keeping an eye on that boy of yours, don’t you think?’

  ‘Hey, Abby. I’d love to chat, but I was just leaving.’

  ‘It’s Abigail now, actually. Come inside and have one cigarette with me, okay? For old times’ sake.’

  I wanted to tell her that there had been no old times, but I was already feeling defeated by the mental image of Sammy curled up with Isabelle, the Botox beauty.

  ‘Sure,’ I said listlessly. ‘Whatever.’

  ‘So, tell me. How is everything with Philip? It’s just so amazing that you two ended up together!’ she said, leaning in conspiratorially.

  ‘Amazing? Not really.’ I tried to think of something, anything, to end the conversation.

  ‘Bette! Of course it is! Now, I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a personal question, but I’ve always been dying to know: How is he in bed? Because, as I’m sure you’re aware, there are rumors that—’

  ‘Abby, I don’t want to be rude, okay? But I really need to leave. I cannot have this conversation now.’

  She appeared completely unfazed. ‘Sure, no problem. I know how tired you must be from the new job. Anyway, we’ll be sure to catch up soon, right? Oh! And I just love what you did with that suit – only you could make something so average look so good!’

  I backed away as though she were a rabid dog and began to stumble back to Elisa’s table to collect myself. Instead, I headed to the bar and drank down a martini – mixed just the way Will liked them. It wasn’t half-bad, actually, sitting and getting drunk solo, but when an entire horde of gorgeous and mostly naked girls commandeered my personal space, the temptation to leave was just too great to resist. No matter Kelly’s photo ops – I just couldn’t endure more of Philip’s fascinating musings on the growth cycle of South American models or Marco’s suggestions for the most efficient starvation techniques, so I texted both Philip and Elisa one line claiming sudden illness and collapsed into the backseat of a cab. I looked at my watch – one-thirty in the morning. Would they still be at the Black Door? I got my answer when Michael slurred hello on the fifth ring.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said.

  ‘Just got home,’ he replied. ‘You missed a good night. But the Black Door with Pen and Avery is a lot different from the Black Door with Pen and Bette!’

  I began calling Penelope as soon as the meter began running and continued calling until I finally fell asleep, a little after three in the morning. It went to voice mail every time.

  16

  I resumed my calling seven hours later, desperate to explain to Penelope that it wasn’t how it appeared, but no one was answering. Avery finally picked up the phone a little after noon, sounding groggy and slightly hung over.

  ‘Hey, Bette, what’s up?’

  ‘Hi, Avery. Is Penelope there, please?’ I had zero interest in exchanging any words with him past the required minimum.

  There was a rustle and something that sounded suspiciously like a whisper before Avery said, ‘Actually, she’s at her parents’ for brunch today. Can I leave her a message?’

  ‘Avery, please put her on. I know she’s there and I know she’s upset with me and I want to explain everything. It’s not really how it looked.’ I was pleading.

  His voice got lower and more conspiratorial; he was trying to talk so Penelope couldn’t hear. ‘Hey, Bette? Don’t worry about it. I would’ve rather been at Caleb’s party last night, too. Trust me – if there was any way I could’ve gotten out of that miserable dinner last night, I would’ve been right there with you. Pen’s just over-reacting.’

  Of course Avery would know about the party. I felt ill.

  ‘It wasn’t like that, Avery. I wouldn’t have rather been—’ I realized I was justifying my actions to the wrong person. ‘Can you just put her on?’

  There was some more rustling and a muffled call and then Penelope was saying hello as though she didn’t know I was the one on the other end.

  ‘Hey, Pen. It’s me. How are you?’

  ‘Oh, Bette. Hello. I’m fine, how are you?’

  The conversation felt distinctly like dozens I’d had with my overly polite but slightly senile great-grandmother. Clearly, Penelope was every bit as furious with me as I’d feared.

  ‘Pen, I know you don’t want to talk to me right now. I’m sorry if Avery tricked you into picking up the phone, but I really want to apologize. It didn’t go down last night the way it appeared.’

  Silence.

  ‘I got a call from work saying that some people from the BlackBerry account were in town unexpectedly and I had to go meet them. I’m in charge of their event this week, and there’s just no way I could’ve refused to stop in and say hello.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what you said.’ Her voice was ice-cold.

  ‘Well, th
at’s exactly what happened. I was planning to run over there for an hour and do my thing and then hopefully make it back before dessert. I was waiting for the car Elisa said she’d send when Philip showed up. Apparently Elisa sent him to get me instead of the car since the BlackBerry people wanted to meet him, too. I had no idea, Pen, seriously.’

  There was a pause and then she said, very quietly, ‘Avery said everyone saw you at some guy’s birthday party downtown. That doesn’t sound like work to me.’

  I was more than a little creeped out by the ‘everyone saw you’ comment but rushed on to explain what had actually transpired. ‘I know, Pen, I know. Philip told me that Elisa’d told him that we were going to meet Kelly there.’

  ‘Oh. Did the meeting go well?’ She sounded like she was thawing a bit, but this next part wasn’t going to do much to help it along.

  ‘No, I didn’t even get to meet them. Apparently, they got tired and headed back to their hotel after having a drink with Kelly. At that point, it was one A.M.! I couldn’t get back to you. I’m so sorry, Pen. I left your going-away dinner because I thought I had no choice, and it all ended up being for no reason whatsoever.’ It sucked, but at least it was true.

  ‘Why didn’t you come to the Black Door?’ she asked. But then her voice softened. ‘I knew you wouldn’t have left just to go to some party,’ she said. ‘Avery kept insisting that you’d invented that whole work story because this was going to be the most amazing birthday party ever, but I didn’t really think you’d do that. It just got harder to believe when I saw you ride off with Philip.’

  I wanted to strangle Avery with the phone cord, but I was finally making progress with Penelope and had to concentrate on that. ‘You know I’d never do that, Pen. There was nowhere else I wanted to be last night. And if it’s any comfort, it was a horror of an evening. Absolutely, positively, undeniably not fun.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure I’ll read about it online this week.’ She said it lightly and laughed, but I could tell she was still upset. ‘Speaking of which, did you see this morning’s edition?’

 

‹ Prev