‘Just some meetings. With some directors and studio people, that sort of thing.’
‘Oh, you’re an aspiring actor! I had no idea.’ She was laying it on thick now, but it was necessary. Of course no aspiring actor would fly first class, but he’d gotten too famous too fast; if she gave even an inch, his ego would crush them both. Plus, just a hint of recognition on her part would instantly plummet her from a sexy and sophisticated Brazilian New Yorker to a sycophantic starstruck fan, and Adriana would rather die than let that happen.
‘Uh, no, actually, I—’
‘Well, good luck with your audition! Are you nervous?’
His brow furrowed. ‘It’s not an audition. I’m actually already—’
‘Dean?’ Adriana interrupted sweetly. ‘Would you mind flagging down the flight attendant for me? I would just adore another glass of bubbly.’
He sighed, motioned for the flight attendant, and ordered a Jack and ginger in addition to Adriana’s champagne. ‘Do you live in LA?’ he asked, now even more eager to continue the conversation, in order to correct her misconceptions.
‘Me? In Los Angeles? Never.’ Adriana laughed. ‘I’m just visiting a friend for the weekend.’ It certainly wasn’t any of his business that her ‘friend’ was actually her boyfriend, none other than Toby Baron, a name that would probably send poor Dean’s head into a full spin. ‘Nothing as exciting as a real audition! Is it for TV or a movie?’
His expression indicated defeat. To correct her assumption, he’d basically have to announce who he was – something his ego would never allow. She had him now, she was sure. So sure, she began to count. Five, four, three, two, one, and …
‘Say, Adriana, why don’t you let me take you to dinner? You and your friend, if you’d like. LA’s not half-bad … if you know where to go.’
Bingo. She still had it. She might be skirting thirty, but she could still get any man – well, almost any man, but that was probably Yani’s fault and not hers – to ask her out in ten minutes or less. Her work here was finished.
‘Oh, I so wish I could, Dean, but I’m all booked up this weekend.’ It required superhuman effort to say the words, but she was in a monogamous relationship. Just last week Toby had announced he was no longer dating other people, and he expected Adriana wouldn’t, either. Her first committed boyfriend – and perfect husband material to boot. Educated at all the right East Coast schools, made a name (and millions) for himself with big hits right out of USC film school, and currently one of Hollywood’s most sought-after directors. It gave her great pleasure to imagine her friends’ shock when, a mere few months down the road, she announced her engagement. And her mother! The woman would faint, Adriana was sure of it. Only these thoughts gave her the strength to reject this delectable treat of a man sitting next to her.
‘Well, I guess we’ll just have to do it in New York, then,’ Dean said, all cocky confidence and killer smiles.
‘I guess so,’ Adriana shot back without a moment’s hesitation. What’s a girl supposed to do? she asked herself. A meal was just a meal, and no one could say she hadn’t been the model girlfriend so far. He was just so cute.
They chatted for the rest of the flight, and by the time they deplaned, Adriana knew exactly what she’d do to him in bed. She remembered only at the last possible second that she was supposed to meet Toby in the baggage claim.
‘Dean, querido, I’ve got to freshen up a bit. I must say good-bye now.’
‘I’ll wait. I’ve got a car coming to pick me up, so I’ll just drop you at your friend’s place,’ he said, stopping outside a ladies room.
‘No, darling, but thank you. You go ahead.’ She lowered her lashes and looked up at him through half-closed eyes. ‘I’d rather we just wait for New York.’
‘Love it,’ he said, kissing her cheek. ‘I’ll call you.’
‘You do that,’ she purred.
Adriana ducked into the restroom and killed five minutes freshening her makeup, after which she strode confidently to the baggage claim to meet her boyfriend. She wasn’t distraught to find a uniformed driver holding a sign with her name instead of a smiling Toby. They were going to have the entire weekend together, after all, and she could use a few minutes’ break from flirting, game-playing, and being otherwise fabulous. The driver hauled her Goyard trunk onto a luggage cart – rolling suitcases were so bourgeois – and handed her an envelope with the Twentieth Century Fox logo in the left corner.
‘Mr. Baron sends his apologies for being unable to meet you,’ the driver said, leading the way to the parking lot.
‘Oh, that’s quite all right,’ Adriana said brightly. ‘I’m just going to nap a bit in the car, if you don’t mind.’
Once installed in the plush backseat of a late-model town car, however, Adriana found she was too excited to sleep. Two and a half months and she was finally going to see Toby’s legendary Hollywood Hills mansion. She read and reread his letter (Darling Adriana, I’m so sorry to have missed you at the airport, but something unexpected arose at the last minute. I promise to make it up to you. Love, T), noted his use of love – probably just a Hollywood affectation, she thought, since there was no way he actually loved her already … was there? – and sighed with pleasure. This whole monogamy thing was a breeze. Why on earth had she resisted for so long? It might not be quite as exciting as dating half a dozen men at once, but it certainly was less exhausting. Plus, as much as she hated to admit, her mother was right. Just this morning on the plane she’d noticed her thighs spreading a touch wider on the leather seat. When she bolted to the lavatory to investigate, she noticed a tiny line near her left eye – a wrinkle. To hell with those hideous fluorescent lights and those so-called security precautions that kept a girl from bringing proper skincare products on board! A couple more inches of thigh-spread or – god forbid – a full-fledged crow’s-foot, and she wouldn’t be landing successful directors or hot actors. It was time to get serious and find someone who could care for her properly, and Adriana was extremely pleased with her own progress so far. At twelve years her senior (and a teensy bit dorky, she had to admit), Toby was blessed to have someone as young and gorgeous as Adriana, and he, thankfully, seemed to realize that.
As if on cue, Toby’s name flashed across her cell phone’s screen. She waited for it to ring three full times and then answered.
‘William?’ she asked in a confused tone.
‘Adriana? Is that you?’ Poor Toby sounded baffled and a bit indignant.
‘Oh, Toby, querido! How are you, sweetheart? What a lovely note you wrote!’
‘Who’s William?’ he barked.
‘William who, darling?’ She sighed to herself. The whole charade was tiresome, but necessary.
‘You thought I was someone named William. When you answered, you said, ‘William.’ I am asking you again: Who’s William?’
‘Toby, darling, I just made a silly little mistake! You know how forgetful I can be sometimes. I’ve never even met a man named William, I promise.’ Adriana lowered her voice and segued seamlessly from sweet schoolgirl to sexy seductress. ‘Now tell me, are you excited to see me? Because I am very excited to see you.’
‘I can’t wait to get my hands on you,’ he breathed into the phone.
Men were so easy to manipulate it was almost criminal. How could there be so many women who didn’t understand that with the smallest bit of discipline and a touch of creativity, they could have any man they desired?
Her other line clicked just as the driver pulled onto the 405 and Adriana said, ‘Toby, I have to take that. Will you meet me at the hotel when you’re free?’
‘Is that William?’ he asked possessively.
‘No, darling, I’m sorry to report that it’s nothing as exciting as a secret lover. It’s actually my mother calling.’
‘So you admit there is a secret lover?’
She laughed gaily and decided to give the poor man a break; besides, it wasn’t even challenging anymore. ‘There is absolutely no secret
lover. Just a Brazilian mother in her fifties who wants to tell me all the ways I’ve been a horrible daughter lately.’
‘I’ll see you soon,’ he said gruffly and hung up.
Adriana took a deep breath and clicked over. ‘Mama! So good to hear from you.’
‘Tell me, Adi, wherever are you these days?’
‘In the figurative or the literal sense?’
‘Adriana, I am not in the mood for games,’ Mrs. de Souza said.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, worrying not that her father had a heart attack or one of her hundreds of cousins had met an untimely death, only that her parents were considering an extended visit to New York.
‘I just got off the phone with Gerard. He said you left this morning with a suitcase the size of a Land Rover.’
‘You called my doorman to spy on me?’ Adriana cried, forgetting that Toby’s driver could hear every word. ‘How dare you!’
‘I called my doorman,’ Mrs. de Souza shot back. ‘Adriana, I thought we just discussed this. Your father did not appreciate your American Express bill last month. It was, I recall, ten thousand on clothes and shoes, and another ten on travel and entertainment. You were ordered to significantly reduce all frivolous expenses, and now you’re off flitting around again.’
‘Mama! I am not “flitting around” anywhere. I happen to be in Los Angeles.’ She lowered her voice and covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I’m seeing a man. A very eligible man.’ She lowered her voice even further, to a whisper. ‘This is not an expenditure; it’s an investment.’
Well, this seemed to quiet the old woman. Adriana found it humiliating that she was at her parents’ mercy, since it was their apartment. They could arrive anytime, without warning, and stay for as long as they liked. They could question every dollar she spent on clothes or facials or flights simply because they were paying the bills. And now, as a thirty-year-old woman, she was being forced to justify Toby. She was glad no one else was there to witness it.
‘Is that so?’ her mother asked. ‘And who, may I ask, is this gentleman?’
‘Oh, just a little movie director. You know Toby Baron, don’t you?’
Adriana heard her mother gasp and was nearly delirious with pleasure.
‘Tobias Baron? Didn’t he win an Oscar?’
‘He most certainly did. And he was nominated for two others. Yes, he’s probably one of the top three most influential directors alive today,’ Adriana said proudly.
‘What is your relationship with Mr. Baron?’ her mother asked.
‘Oh, he’s my boyfriend.’ Try as she might, she couldn’t mask the glee in her voice.
‘Boyfriend? Adi, querida, you haven’t had a boyfriend since seventh grade. Do you mean to tell me you are dating him exclusively?’
‘That is exactly what I’m telling you, Mama,’ Adriana said. ‘In fact, this visit was all his idea. He said it felt strange not having me be a part of his life in Los Angeles, not knowing his friends and what his home looks like.’ Again she lowered her voice and bent her head below the driver’s seat back. ‘Which, incidentally, I’ve heard is incredible.’
Truth be told, she’d done more than heard: In her many hours spent researching Toby online, she’d run across an article in InStyle that featured a dozen or so interior shots of his bachelor pad. Adriana already knew he preferred a sparse modern look for his four bedrooms and five baths; that his home was Balinese-style with indoor/outdoor showers and gardens, plus separate pavilions for eating, living, and sleeping; that, to top it all off, there was a drop-dead gorgeous infinity pool that looked like it stretched to, well, infinity over the valley below. She had decided sight unseen that with only a few minor adjustments (surely the master bedroom would need a built-in vanity and the immediate installation of proper California Closets), she would be very, very happy living there.
‘Well, querida, we’re willing to overlook it this time. But please do show a bit of restraint in the future. I don’t have to tell you that your father has been under a lot of stress lately.’
‘I know, Mama.’
‘And behave yourself with Mr. Baron,’ her mother warned. ‘Don’t forget everything I’ve taught you.’
‘Mama! Of course I won’t forget.’
‘If anything, the rules become even more important with wealthy and powerful men. They are the most accustomed to having women fall at their feet, and in turn are the most appreciative when they meet someone who refuses to do so.’
‘I know, Mama.’
‘Maintain your mystery, Adriana! I realize you go to bed with men far faster now than we did in my day, but that makes it even more important to remain a bit unattainable in other areas. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Mama. I understand perfectly.’
‘Because you’re not setting a great precedent by flying across the country to see a man,’ Mrs. de Souza said.
‘Mama! It’s time. He’s been to visit me in New York four times already.’ So she might have been exaggerating a touch, but her mother didn’t have to know that.
‘And you’re staying at a hotel, I hope?’
‘Of course. Even though it would be much less expensive to stay at his house …’
The mere suggestion of this sent her mother into a panic. ‘Adriana! You know better than that! Of course your father and I would appreciate your showing a bit more financial sensitivity, but this particular area is nonnegotiable.’
‘I was kidding, Mama. I have a suite reserved at the Peninsula and I plan to use it.’
‘And remember: no spending the night! If you absolutely must be intimate with him, then at least have the good sense to leave afterward.’
‘Yes, Mama.’ Adriana smiled to herself. Most moms warned their daughters against casual sex for fear of potential disease, disrespect, or reputation. Mrs. de Souza had none of these concerns; she feared only that a false move would irreparably damage the relationship’s power balance and make the end goal – Adriana’s swift betrothal to a proper man – even more difficult to achieve.
‘Well, all right, dear, I’m glad we had this chat. He does sound very promising. Certainly far favorable to the men you usually date …’
‘I’ll call you when I’m back in New York on Sunday, okay?’
Her mother made a tsk-tsk sound and said, ‘Let me see here … I’m just checking my book. Ah, yes, we’ll be in Dubai then. The cell should work, but it’s always better if you just ring the apartment phone. Do you have that number?’
‘I have it. I’ll call you there. Wish me luck!’
‘You don’t need luck, querida. You’re an absolutely stunning girl that any man – Mr. Tobias Baron certainly included – would be delighted to have. Just remember your responsibilities, Adriana.’
They kissed over the phone and hung up. Adriana glanced at the driver to see how much he might have heard, but he was talking quietly into his own Bluetooth headset. There was no denying that her mother was exhausting and, judging from Leigh’s and Emmy’s stories, quite different from most moms, but it was hard to argue with her accomplishments. Mrs. de Souza had turned a phenomenally successful modeling career into a lifetime of luxury and leisure, all provided by a kind, hardworking man who worshipped the ground she walked on. A compound in São Paulo, an oceanfront mansion in Portugal, and gorgeous flats in both New York and Dubai … well, that wasn’t something to sneeze at. The furs and jewels, cars and staff weren’t bad, either, and naturally Mrs. de Souza made very good use of her unlimited and unquestioned spending (a clause she’d insisted upon before the wedding ceremony took place). It might be tiresome enduring the endless ‘lessons’ from her mother, but Adriana did not question the woman’s authority on all things men-related.
Adriana gazed out the window as they exited the 405 on Wilshire and weaved their way through Westwood and then Synagogue Alley. It had been a couple years since Adriana had last been in LA, but she was pretty sure the driver had just missed the turnoff to her hotel.
‘Sir?
Excuse me, I think we just passed the Peninsula. Wasn’t that Santa Monica Boulevard?’
He coughed and looked at her through the rearview mirror. ‘Mr. Baron has redirected us to another location, ma’am.’
‘Oh, is that so? Well, I’m afraid I have to override him. I would like to go to my hotel first, please.’ As eager as she was to see Toby’s palatial spread, i.e., her future home, she desperately needed to attend to her humidity-limpened hair and sallow travel complexion. And then there was dealing with the whole ‘ma’am’ incident.
Much to her chagrin, and then her shock, the driver ignored her and kept driving. Was she being kidnapped? Was the driver some pervert who lost his mind the second a pretty girl got in the backseat? Should she call Toby? Her mother? The police?
‘Sorry, ma’am. It’s just that—’
‘Can you please not call me ‘ma’am’?’ Adriana snapped, all thoughts of imminent death gone.
The driver looked appropriately embarrassed. ‘Of course. Miss. I was just saying that I think you’ll be pleased with where we’re headed.’
‘Are we going to Madonna’s Kabbalah center?’ she asked hopefully.
‘No, ma’am. Uh, miss.’
‘Tom’s Scientology center?’
‘I’m afraid not.’ He eased the car into a left turn, a beautiful, magical, welcome left turn … onto Rodeo Drive.
‘Paris’s penitentiary?’ It was easy to joke now that they were somewhere so delightful.
The driver sidled up to a curb that stated no standing turned off the car, and retrieved Adriana. He offered her his arm and said, ‘If you’ll follow me …’
He led her past a Bebe store (on Rodeo!) and she panicked for a moment until she saw the sign. Adriana had to remind herself to breathe. She wanted to sing and cry and scream all at the same time. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, she thought, forcing herself to take little sips of air. It couldn’t be. Could it? A quick scan of the boutique’s stunning window displays confirmed it was true: They had just entered the hallowed halls of the Oscar Adorner Extraordinaire, the guru himself: Harry Winston.
Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Know Page 98