‘So, you and Philip are looking pretty hot and heavy, huh?’ She winked and I suppressed an urge to scratch the grin off her face.
‘Mmmm. What brings you here?’
She laughed and adjusted a five-inch heel, which did little to disguise her height. ‘Does anyone need a reason to have a little fun? Ohmigod, is that Avery Wainwright? We haven’t had a chance to catch up recently. That boy grew into a very handsome man, don’t you think?’
‘He’s engaged,’ I snapped. ‘To Penelope. You remember Penelope, don’t you?’
She feigned cluelessness. ‘Hmm. Well, you know what they say …’
‘No, what’s that?’
‘Nothing’s final until the vows are exchanged.’ She rubbed her hands together as though she was anticipating something very delicious or exciting.
At my reaction she said, ‘Oh, Bette, calm down. I was just kidding!’ A look of mock horror passed over her face. ‘You should really work on that sense of humor, you know. Speaking of which—’
‘Abby, it was really great bumping into you, but I’ve got to get back to my friends. Sort of a work night, you know?’ I ducked out from behind her and began sliding away.
‘Sure, honey, but let’s get that lunch sometime soon, okay? I’d love to hear all about Philip and the new job and everything. Everyone’s still talking about that mention in New York Scoop,’ she called after me.
I wanted to make sure Penelope was holding up, but Avery had her cornered and neither looked thrilled, so I made my way back to our table, where Davide handed me a drink.
Penelope immediately walked over. ‘Bette, I think we’re going to head out,’ she said wearily, sounding as though she’d rather kill herself than either stay or leave.
‘You okay? Seriously, why doesn’t Avery just stay here and hang out and you and I can go get something to eat? I wouldn’t mind leaving before I do something I’ll seriously regret, like going home with Philip and making mad, passionate love to him, even though I think he’s the most obnoxious guy I’ve ever met.’
She sighed. ‘No, thanks. I think we really need to get home. I’ll call you tomorrow.’
I wondered if they’d sleep at all that night. Avery was so amped up on coke that it would take a horse tranquilizer to put him to sleep. Or maybe he’d start having flashbacks from all the acid he did in college and try to eat a parakeet or fly out a window. Poor, sweet Penelope.
‘Bette, love, are you ready to leave?’ Philip asked, draping his arms over my shoulders as though he were my long-term boyfriend instead of the guy I didn’t want to want to sleep with. ‘Let’s go back to my flat. Maybe you won’t be too drunk tonight to—’
‘Uh, yeah, why don’t you, me, and Sonja,’ I said a bit more snottily than I intended, ‘have a slumber party? Wouldn’t that be fun!’
He slid his hand up the back of my lingerie top. ‘What’s with all the attitude? Seriously, love, you’ve got to relax. Come on, I’ll put Sonja in a suite upstairs and then you and I can spend a little quiet time together, okay?’
Before I could respond, Philip was whispering to Sonja in French. She did little except nod enthusiastically, raise her perfect eyebrows, and giggle when he was finished. ‘Oui, oui, of course it is okay to spend the time alone together,’ she said, providing us with her blessing to engage in slightly drunk, somewhat random sex.
‘You know what, Philip?’ I said, not knowing how to explain that I wasn’t really up for tonight when I wasn’t even sure myself. ‘It’s not right to put her in a hotel when she’s just with you for a week. I mean, she’s only fifteen. Don’t you think you should keep an eye on her? She can’t walk three feet without guys hitting on her, you know.’
He looked thoughtful, as though he was actually buying my whole ‘concern for Sonja’ thing. He nodded. ‘Quite right, love. I’ll take her home and tuck her in, and then we’ll head to a hotel somewhere. Good call. Cheers,’ he announced in the direction of the others, who merely glanced once in our direction and nodded in acknowledgment. Elisa stopped gawking long enough to give me a none-too-subtle thumbs-up.
I figured it’d be easier to drop them both off at the Archives and then redirect the cab to Murray Hill than argue about it, so I waved to Elisa and followed Sonja and Philip to the front door, feeling like the chubby, uncoordinated child of two Olympic athletes.
‘Hey, guy, call us a cab, will you?’ Philip called to the doorman, snapping his fingers in that general direction. It was undeniably obnoxious, but considering what an asshole the guy had been to us, it seemed perfectly acceptable to me. That was, until a closer look revealed that it wasn’t the malnourished, wig-sporting Romero but the cute (and rude) bouncer from Bungalow 8. Sammy. He turned to look at Philip with a venomous expression and noticed me trying to hide off to the side. His eyes bore into mine with just a moment’s recognition before he turned his attention back to the street and silently hailed a cab from the dozens that were flying past.
Sonja scooted in first and Philip dove in next to her, leaving me standing four inches from Sammy as he held the cab door open. I don’t know why I got in with them, but I did. It was like my body was following some invisible script.
‘Thanks,’ I managed to say quietly, just as Philip said, ‘Mate, I’ve got two gorgeous girls coming home with me, if you know what I mean. You mind being quick about this?’ Sonja giggled and rested her delicate head on Philip’s shoulder; Sammy looked at me one last time, expressionless, and slammed the door. Just as the cab pulled away, I looked at the restless line outside the club, the camera-ready paparazzi waiting for celebrities to exit, the crush to be inside like its own form of addiction. And even though I couldn’t pinpoint why, I was quite sure I wanted to cry.
10
‘How do you eat like that and stay so tiny?’ I asked Penelope for the thousandth time since we’d met. We’d just settled into a booth at EJ’s after an hour-long wait. I was famished enough to order one of everything on the menu, but I was enjoying my still-thin figure too much to jeopardize it now. I’d managed to cut out all trips to Dylan’s and even most of my morning bacon, egg, and cheeses – with the occasional Slim Jim acting as my only real indulgence – and it was almost starting to feel normal to police myself with food. Which only made it all the weirder when Penelope ordered the way we always had – three-egg cheese omelet with bacon and hash browns, accompanied by a short stack of chocolate-chip pancakes and a baby fistful of oozing, melted butter. She raised her eyebrows when I ordered an egg-white omelet with spinach and tomatoes and two slices of dry whole-wheat toast, but she kindly refrained from commenting, with the single exception of a murmur: ‘Elisa influence much?’ I ignored her wan smile and changed the subject.
‘Is everything okay with you and Avery?’ I asked as sympathetically as I could, wanting very much to draw her out and not sound critical. I’d helplessly watched them leave Sanctuary, knowing how upset she was but feeling powerless to do anything but watch. When she’d called early this morning, I immediately ducked out of my standing Sunday brunch plans with Will and Simon and jumped in a cab downtown.
She avoided my eyes and instead concentrated on slicing her pancakes into small, even pieces. Slice, spear, mouth, repeat. I watched this cycle three times before she spoke. ‘Everything’s just fine,’ she said tonelessly. ‘Once he explained everything to me, I could see that last night was just a big misunderstanding.’
‘I’m sure. It must have been surprising to see him there when you weren’t expecting it,’ I prompted, hoping to elicit some sort of acknowledgment from her.
She laughed without pleasure. ‘Well, you know Avery. Likely to crop up just about anywhere, any time of the night. It’s good one of us is social, I suppose, or else we’d drive each other crazy sitting in the apartment all the time.’
I didn’t know where to go with that, so I just nodded.
‘What about you? Looked like you were having fun when I left, talking to Elisa and Philip. Was it a good night?’
&nb
sp; I stared at her, thinking about how awkward I’d felt with Elisa and Philip, as if I were a trespasser in a members-only world – a feeling that had become pretty familiar to me since I’d joined Kelly & Company. I thought about how I’d gotten in the cab and argued to be dropped off alone and how – much to my surprise – Philip hadn’t argued back, not one bit. I thought about how empty my apartment had seemed when I got home, and how even Millington curled up beside me in bed didn’t make me feel much better. And I looked at Penelope and wondered just when, exactly, we had grown so far apart.
‘It was all right, I guess. I was hoping to hang out with you more …’ I stopped short when I realized it sounded accusatory.
She lifted her gaze and looked at me sharply. ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting the situation with Avery. Also, I would have loved for it to be us, going out, like we used to, but you were the one who had us meet up with all your work friends to scout the location. It seems like they’re omnipresent these days.’
‘Pen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I was just saying that I’d rather hang out with you any day. After you left, it just got worse. Philip was babysitting some girl from home and I shared a cab home with them because I didn’t want to start a big scene at the club, but then people saw me getting in the backseat, and I felt like shit. Oh, and Abby, too. It was just a giant mess and I wish I’d left when you did.’
‘So did you go home with him? Where did the girl sleep?’
‘No, I just got in the cab because it seemed easier than listening to him throw a fit. I made them drop me off first, but people watching would never know that.’
‘Why didn’t you go home with him? And who’s “people”?’ I could tell she was trying to keep everyone straight, but she hadn’t even met all the players.
‘Well,’ I lied, ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to get involved in Philip’s world. He’s tied in to just about everyone and everything at work, which makes it all even weirder.’
‘I wouldn’t know. You didn’t introduce me,’ she said lightly.
I felt the reprimand and knew she was right, but I didn’t want to turn it into a big discussion. ‘No? Last night was a little hectic. Trust me, you’re not missing much. He’s gorgeous, that much you saw, but otherwise he’s your basic spoiled party kid, just with a fantastic accent. Damn shame he’s so cute, though.’ I sighed audibly.
‘Well, that little speech sounds all well and good, my dear, but you should’ve seen your face when he walked in with that model. I thought you’d die. You like him, don’t you? Admit it.’
I didn’t know how to say that of course something attracted me to him, but something simultaneously repelled me. I didn’t want to say aloud how flattered I was that someone like Philip could want someone like me, even if he didn’t seem to be all that great of a guy. I didn’t want to explain the entire situation at work, how I suspected Elisa might be jealous that Philip was interested in me, or how Kelly had seemed ready and willing to whore me out to Philip because it meant good things for the business. I just shrugged and salted my omelet, making sure to fix my coffee cup to my lips so I wouldn’t have to say anything just yet.
Penelope understood that I wasn’t going to get into it then. It was the first and only time in the nearly nine years we’d been friends that I could remember both of us sitting at a table and willingly withholding information from each other. She’d refused to tell me her real feelings about her relationship with Avery; I’d taken a pass on commenting on Philip. We sat in a comfortable enough but foreign-feeling silence until she said, ‘I know I don’t know the entire situation, and of course I know you’re more than capable of handling everything yourself, but please, for me, just be careful? I’m sure Philip is a perfectly nice guy, but I’ve seen enough with Avery’s friends and now your work friends to know that the whole scene just freaks me out. Nothing concrete, but I worry about you, you know?’
She placed her hand over mine and I knew we’d get back to our old selves at some point. In the meantime, we’d have to settle for thinking about each other from afar.
11
‘Okay, kids, quiet down,’ Kelly announced as she tottered into the conference room in the high heels she wore every single day. ‘Did everyone have a chance to read their Dirt Alerts already?’
‘Sure did,’ piped up Leo from the other end of the glass table that looked like it belonged more in a W hotel than in an office. ‘Seems like our favorite new staffer got herself another mention.’
I felt the familiar loopiness in my stomach begin its rounds. I’d been ten minutes late this morning and hadn’t yet read the Dirt Alert, obviously a major misstep on my part. One of the assistants specifically got in every morning by six A.M. to create the day’s Dirt Alert for all of us – a sort of survey of all the columns, papers, and stories that might, in some way, be related to our clients or industry – and place them on our desks by nine A.M., but everyone generally scanned all the websites when they first got up in the morning, skimming quickly between Drudge, Page Six, Liz Smith, Rush & Molloy, USA Today, Variety, New York Scoop, an assortment of blogs and columns, and a few of the bigger trade headlines. It’s best to know early if something bad happened and your phone was going to ring off the hook, so the Dirt Alert was more of a formality than any sort of breaking news. The only really relevant information we got each morning was the Celeb Alert, which included information on who’s in town, why they’re here, where they’re staying (and under what name), and how to best contact them to bribe or beg them to attend an event. Four straight weeks of logging on to analyze every imaginable website within five seconds of waking up – supplemented by a professional report a few hours later – and the one day I wasn’t fully informed of all the late-breaking gossip, of course, was the only one that mattered.
‘Um, I haven’t had a chance to see it yet this morning. And besides, I can’t imagine what could be in there, considering I was checking out Sanctuary this weekend – with all of you – right up until I went home. Alone,’ I added quickly, as though I owed my coworkers this explanation.
‘Well, let’s see here,’ Kelly said, picking up a printout of the online column. ‘‘New Kelly & Company employee seems determined to fit in with her hard-partying coworkers. Sources say the event planner’s unnamed new girl – supposedly scoping out Sanctuary on Saturday night as a potential venue for the ultra hush-hush Playboy party – mixed business and pleasure when she left with Philip Weston and an unidentified model. Their final destination? We have our ideas.’ …’ Kelly let the last words trail off and turned to grin at me.
I felt myself turn crimson.
‘What, exactly, is it implying? Because so far I haven’t heard one remotely true statement. And who the hell wrote that?’
‘Ellie Insider, of course. There’s a picture of you climbing into the cab with Philip and this absolutely gorgeous girl, so I guess it’s not hard to figure out what she’s suggesting. …’ Kelly continued smiling. She looked like she couldn’t be any happier.
Was it utterly bizarre to be discussing this in our weekly staff meeting, called today supposedly to discuss work events?
‘Kelly, I’m really sorry for any impact any of this stuff has had on you or the company. Honestly, I don’t know why anyone would care, but in all seriousness, it’s just not happening like—’
‘‘The newest It Girl, an associate at Kelly & Company.’ Do you realize how huge that is? Hopefully next time they’ll use your name. They probably just couldn’t confirm it in time since you’re not on the industry roster yet.’
I noticed Elisa was having trouble smiling.
‘Not only that, but it says the rest of us are hard-partying,’ Leo chimed in proudly.
‘And it plugs the Playboy party!’ Skye added.
‘I just don’t know who would give them that information,’ I muttered. ‘It’s not even true.’
‘Bette, honey, I don’t care if it’s true, I just care that it’s being covered. You�
��ve done wonderful things for the team in the short amount of time you’ve been with us. Plus, Danny will be thrilled about the plug for the club. Keep up the good work.’ And with that, we moved on to one of Kelly’s specialty brainstorming sessions.
‘Okay, everyone, start talking. We’ve got the premiere for Shrek 3 next month. Invites need to be out within two weeks. Skye’s in charge of this one. What’s the enticement?’
‘I still don’t understand why we agreed to do a premiere for a kids’ movie,’ Skye whined, which I noticed she did a lot at meetings. ‘Why can’t the studio handle their own premiere for that one?’
‘That was a rhetorical question, right? We do premieres because they’re easy and pay well. You know DreamWorks has their own internal PR, but as you also know, they’re tied up with all the awards shows and bigger pictures’ publicity, and besides, virtually all of the important press is in New York. We have relationships with people they don’t.’
‘I know, I know.’ Skye sighed in a very unteamlike way. I saw Elisa shoot her a look, and she sat up a little bit straighter. ‘It’s just that kids’ movies are so boring.’
‘Well, Skye, if you’re not interested in overseeing this, I’m sure Elisa or Leo or Bette or even Brandon wouldn’t mind stepping in. I don’t think I need to point out just how many celebs are having kids these days … Liv, Courteney, Gwyneth, Sarah Jessica, just to name a few. I hope you’re not saying that their children are boring.’
‘No, of course not. You can count on me – I’m up for it. We’ve done a dozen of these. Okay. Does anyone have the report on the Harry Potter premiere we did over the summer?’
‘Yep, right here,’ Leo said, pulling a stapled packet from a folder. ‘Sunday afternoon in August, at Christie Brinkley’s estate in Bridgehampton. Party started at eleven A.M., with the screening from twelve to one-thirty to allow everyone enough time to get back to the city. Children’s entertainment included wading pools filled with ice and juice packs, horseback riding, a small petting zoo, a cotton-candy machine, a sno-cone maker, a few roving clowns. Adults were kept amused by highly attentive and attractive cocktail waitresses serving socially acceptable day drinks from a hidden bar inside – mostly mimosas, Bloody Marys, screwdrivers, champagne, margaritas, sangria, and the occasional frozen daiquiri or piña colada if requested. Matt Lauer, Susan Sarandon, Katie Couric, Aerin Lauder, Kate Hudson, Russell Simmons, and Courteney Cox all had children in attendance, in addition to hundreds of others who were slightly less recognizable but just as photogenic. Pics appeared in People, US Weekly, Star, Sunday Styles, Gotham, W, and a dozen online social pages, including but not limited to the New York Social Diary and Patrick McMullen’s website. Warner Brothers was thrilled.’
Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Know Page 56