“How crass,” Tootie said.
“I’m referring to the diamonds on them in the photograph, dear.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I also love how Bernie and Barbara styled me, but some say it was a bit of a risk.”
“I agree,” Tootie said. “A bold one. My goodness. I don’t know what to say about them or that book jacket of yours. It unnerves me, sort of like the title itself—‘I, Zombie.’ What does that even mean?” Before I could answer, she waved a hand in front of her face as if she’d just smelled a fart. “I don’t do commercial fiction,” she said. “I know it has its place in popular culture, but I always turn to the classics. The classics calm me.”
“So, who do you turn to the most?” I asked.
“Oh, my dear. I went to Smith. I received my master’s degree in literature. I could go on and on about my favorites.”
“How about if you just pick one? I also have my masters degree in literature.”
“From which school?”
“The University of Maine.”
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, I see.”
“So I have to ask. Which author is your favorite? You know—of the classics.”
“Well, that’s easy,” she said. “James Joyce. J’adore Joyce. J’adore ‘Ulysses’.”
“Not one of my favorites, but I know his work well enough, especially ‘Ulysses.’ What is your theory behind his scrotumtightening sea?”
“His what?”
“His scrotumtightening sea. From Telemachus. Certainly you have theories on that.”
“You make it sound so vulgar.”
“Do I? Joyce is the one who wrote about it, and this is just a conversation about your favorite author and his most-famous book.”
“And you had to go there?”
“Naturally. It’s one of the book’s most talked about scenes—you must know that. All academics know that. So, let me ask you—what do you make of Joyce’s association of the sea with birth and mothers, and with death and drowning?”
She gave me a look that suggested she was stunned that a University of Maine graduate could even talk on such a topic, and when she moved to speak, her words seemed to fail her.
I pounced on the opportunity.
“And remember Mulligan's two completely different ways of referring to the sea,” I said. “If the sea is linked with mothers, then how do fathers figure in Telemachus? It’s an age-old question. Certainly at some point during your time at Smith, one of your literature teachers must have raised the question.”
“I—”
“Or maybe they didn’t.”
“We never spoke about scrotums at Smith.”
“And that, my dear friends, is a life unlived,” Blackwell said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“That woman is nothing but pure poison,” Jennifer said as we watched Tootie and Addy move into the crowd.
“At least Addy isn’t,” Alex said.
“Agreed,” Blackwell said. “Regardless of the fact that he’s living a lie, he’s a kind man. I’ve come to appreciate him over the years. What he has with Tootie can’t be easy for him. But I get it—it’s his position and his generation that keeps him in the closet and with her—as sad as that is. I just wish he’d tell his family to go to hell and come out, already.”
“Oh, God,” I said.
“What your problem?” Blackwell asked.
“Mexico’s version of Jessica Rabbit is here.”
“Why do you and Jennifer always talk in tongues?”
“And I think she just spotted me. Shit.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Epifania Zapopa. How did she get invited? Look at her. Her boobs are at war with her dress, which can barely contain the rest of her body. She’s a mess, just like the last time I saw her.”
“She received an invite because she’s also a patron of the arts. When her husband Charles was murdered, she received his fortune, which was…what? Five hundred million or so, Alex?”
“Something like that.”
“People rely on that fortune,” Blackwell said. “She gets invited everywhere because of it.”
“Oh, I’ve heard about her money,” I said.
“From whom?”
“Marco Boss. She apparently slept with him at some point, which she shared with me when Marco and I attended Julian West’s birthday party together. Apparently, she assumed that I was sleeping with him because she kept referring to his private parts as a python, as if I knew all about it—and weren’t we both lucky to have had a piece of that python. To say the least, it was uncomfortable. I’ll admit that she has a zest for life, but she has zip for manners.”
“They call her the loose cannon of Park Avenue,” Alex said.
“I wonder why. I was with her for only a few minutes, and never knew what was going to come out of her mouth when we had our festive little conversation. That’s probably a good thing because half the time, I couldn’t understand her.” I looked at Alex. “Do you know her?”
“I’ve met her a few times over the years.”
I turned to Tank, who was standing behind me. “How about you?”
“Oh, I’ve met her. Through Alex.”
“I guess I’m the lucky one,” Jennifer said. “I’ve never met her.”
“Prepare to lose your virginity again,” I said.
“Oh, aren’t you clever?”
“She used to clean toilets,” Blackwell said. “All up and down Park and Fifth. She was known for her scrubbing. Her absolute conviction. Then she cleaned Charles’ toilet, and let’s just say she did a thorough job. She was the cause of his divorce. Then they married. The rest of it you know. End of story.”
“That story has a new beginning. It’s still a nightmare, and it’s headed straight in our direction. Brace yourselves.”
We watched Epifania cut through the crowd toward us with a wide smile on her face. She was wearing a glimmering, strapless black evening gown that left zero to the imagination. Even at this distance, I could see the peaks of her nipples pressing so hard against the fabric that it was as if they wanted to burst through it and dart away from her. Her long dark hair was worn down and over her shoulders in a way that made her enormous diamond earrings and necklace pop more than they would have otherwise.
She was looking straight at Alex.
“Papi!” she said. She stopped and did a little shimmy. “It been so long.”
I shot a sidelong glance at Jennifer, who looked mortified.
“Epifania,” Alex said.
“Where you been? Epifania haven’t seen you in, like, over solid year.” As she kissed him on each cheek, her massive breasts mashed against his chest, knocking him a bit off balance. “Good looking as always, but Epifania need to be careful. She got new man. New hunk. New stud in the stable. No need making anyone jelly, right?”
“Very smart, Epifania.”
She looked at the rest of us. “Who these people you with?”
“This is my fiancée, Jennifer Kent. I believe you’ve met Lisa and Tank. And this is Barbara Blackwell.”
“What you mean, ‘fiancée’?”
“Jennifer and I recently got engaged.”
“So, you finally gonna move on from dead wife? Good for you, Papi. And with this one. Ai yai yai! She hot, hot, hot.”
She did not just say that to him.
But as usual, Alex was unflinching. “Thank you.”
She turned her attention to me. “I remember you. We met at party. Epifania don’t know which one—she go to so many. People call Epifania all the time about party, party, party—so, she go. She always go because before Epifania’s new big stud? She was bored as hell. But she remember you. She hope she was good girl that night. You never know with Epifania. She can get a little crazy if the night gets a whole lot boring. Epifania hate the boring.”
“I have to wonder if you’ve ever been bored in your life, my dear,” Blackwell said.
Epifania turned to her. “Who you
again?”
“Blackwell.”
“That your first name or last name?”
“It’s my name.”
“Oh, I know, like the Cher. The Madonna. And the Charo. That’s cute. Maybe Epifania should just be Epifania, no?”
“It would suit you,” Blackwell said. “And it would be so much more efficient—just one name for someone to cry out in the middle of the night. Or in the back of a cab—or an alley. May I ask who you’re wearing?”
“Something something. I forget. Don’t matter. I go shopping, I buy, buy, buy until I drop, drop, drop, and then, in my dressing room, I always surprised to find something I forgot I buy. This probably two year old. Used to fit a little better before Epifania discover her love for a bucket of chipotle wings, but I don’t mind the tight. Sometimes, the tight can be just right! Especially when you gotta man who like the tight—if you know what I mean. Yeah, I thought did. And Epifania finally got a man who make the tight even tighter. Heyzeus Cristo, it took me forever to find the right guy.”
“Where did you meet him?” I asked.
“Somewhere somewhere. I been so bored this winter, I travel for ten days. I think Puerto Rico. Or maybe it was on those Twerks and those Caicos. Doesn’t matter. Why you look so familiar? Why can’t Epifania place you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“So many faces—it become blur.” She took a step back. “So what you think, everybody. New boob job. See how these ones move?” She shimmied again, and her breasts shook and swayed and practically sloshed. “They looser than the other ones. When we marry, Charles took me to big shot California doctor and had me stuffed full like piñata because he say he wanted me to have ‘sugar tits’ to match my sugar walls. So I turned into Beach Ball Betty—that’s what he used to call me when he come. He liked me with the big titties. Epifania didn’t. They painful. And I got the stretch marks because of them, that bastard. Whatever. The bag balm and the fade cream help.” She cupped her breasts. “I got these not long ago. I love them. They best yet. Look how they bounce. You like?”
“Looser works so well on you,” Blackwell said.
“Oh, I know—the other ones were a beech. I used to have to lay flat on my back at night just so I could sleep. Otherwise, I become human teeter-totter.”
“On your back?” Blackwell said. “And just for sleep?”
Epifania pointed a finger at Blackwell. “You crafty. But you also funny. Epifania know who she is—a former maid turned whore who now worth half a billion, that who.” She laughed, and when she did, I couldn’t believe who I saw coming up behind her.
It was Marco Boss. He had two martinis in his hands and was looking directly at me with the dark hint of a smile on his lips.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Well, Marco,” Blackwell said as she folded her arms in front of herself. “You’re certainly the last person I expected to see here tonight. How brave of you to show up at a Wenn event.”
“What you mean?” Epifania said.
“Nothing, love,” Boss said. “Here’s your martini.”
“Is it the Goose?”
“Of course.”
“Epifania love the Goose,” she said to us, clearly not reading into the awkward undercurrent. “Except when I love it too much, and wake up on bathroom floor with big bottle still in my hand. Ai! I hate those days.”
“Lisa,” Marco said. “I see from the photograph above us that the diamonds on your lips made a return tonight.”
“I remember how much you loved them, Marco,” I said. And then I glanced at Epifania. “And I see that you’ve attached yourself to a set of expensive baubles of your own.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why aren’t I surprised?”
“Actually, why aren’t any of us surprised?” Blackwell said.
Marco ignored her and kept his attention on me. “I hear your book is finished. Congratulations. I’m sure it will be a big hit in that critical and renowned zombie genre of yours.”
“I believe you were the one who went after it first,” I said.
“We all make our mistakes.”
I didn’t respond to him, because—if I was to be honest with myself—a part of me was frightened that he was here. He’d come here on purpose—he’d found a way to be here tonight, and that way was on Epifania’s arm. So, naturally I wondered. Was he the one who sent me the martini at JoJo? Was he behind the black rose delivered to my building? Did he cut and paste the letters that comprised the two notes? It was no coincidence that he was here—he’d found his ticket in. But was there danger in him being here? That was the question. That’s what concerned me now.
Epifania had said that they’d met while on vacation. Was that a coincidence, or had he somehow found out where she was and tracked her down? I wouldn’t put it past him to chase down her kind of fortune. Obviously, they’d had an affair before, and now she was calling him her new boyfriend. With Boss out of a job, he’d clearly gone in for the kill when he came upon Epifania on vacation and wooed her into a relationship. He was a good-looking man, built and strong, and at least ten years younger than her. Each was a catch for the other. I think he’d successfully deceived her and convinced her to enjoy some of her money. The bonus for Marco? He got to be her plus one tonight, which he knew would cause a stir.
“Everyone here know Marco?” Epifania asked. “He my real Papi. We met at the…what? The Twerks and the Caicos? I never get it right. Is that it, Papi?”
“The Turks and Caicos, yes.”
“I always call it the Twerks. What’s wrong with me?” She laughed. “I still think young because, at heart, I am young. But I have no memory.”
“Probably due to blacking out on bathroom floors,” Blackwell said.
“Oh, that just happen few times. No big deal. So, anyway, Marco was vacationing in the, uh, Turks and whatevers when I was there. We saw each other while walking on beach. He told me that he quit Wenn to look for new challenges, because he a big Papi like that. Time for a change, he said, but first—vacación! I thought that brave move on his part. We had dinner that night, we did little dancing, had some sexy times, then bubble bath. Rest is history! Now we in love!”
“When did you return from vacation?” Tank asked.
“Oh, week ago.”
“So, you’ve been in the city for one full week? Each of you?”
“I guess so. Lemme think. Yes. One full week. Why you so precise?”
“No matter.” Tank turned to Marco. “Well, congratulations, Marco. It appears as if you’ve had a busy week since you’ve been home.”
“I’m always busy. What are you referring to?”
Tank looked hard at him, but didn’t answer. It had been less than a week since the martini, the rose, and the notes were sent to me. All of us knew what Tank was doing, so we watched Marco and waited for a shift in his demeanor. But that didn’t happen. Instead, he just looked coolly at Tank.
“Marco, I haven’t seen you since you left Wenn,” Alex said. “I was in Singapore when that happened.”
“I believe you were.”
“Would you mind stepping over here with me for a moment? I’d like to privately thank you for all the work that you’ve done for Wenn.”
“There’s no need to be private,” Marco said. “We’re all friends.”
“We are?” Blackwell said.
“Private is best,” Alex said. “Trust me on this.” He glanced at Epifania. “Or, if you insist, what I have to say to you could be said here. Your choice, of course.”
Likely sensing the threat in Alex’s voice, Marco excused himself and started to move into the crowd while Alex followed. “I won’t take more than a minute of your time,” Alex said. “I see that you’re almost finished with your martini. Why don’t we go to the bar and get you another one?”
“Yes, Papi, go. Go and have fun with Alex. Have martini. Alex is the bomb. I meet you back here when you’re finished.”
But for Marco, there woul
d be no meeting Epifania anywhere but back at her apartment. I watched Alex as he and Marco stepped to the bar, and then Alex’s mouth was next to Marco’s ear. There was no shouting or commotion, but it was clear from Alex’s expression that he was getting his point across to Boss. Then, I watched Alex smooth his hands through his hair, and abruptly, Tank excused himself from our group.
“Excuse me,” Tank said. “Restroom. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Was that his way of calling Tank over? I thought.
“That restroom gonna be crowded with you in there,” Epifania said as he left. “If you anything like my Marco, you gonna need three pee pots.”
I just stared at her.
Then, across the room, I saw Cutter move behind Boss. Words were exchanged, but the crowd was so festive and chatty, I couldn’t hear the tone of the conversation. When Tank approached them, he and Cutter led a seething Marco Boss out of the building. Epifania saw none of it—her back was to the bar. I looked at her and said, “Marco didn’t resign from Wenn. He was fired. You should know that.”
She looked confused. “What you mean?”
“He threatened me and physically accosted me the night you and I first met. Do you remember that night now? It was at Julian West’s birthday party. That’s where you know me from.”
“Oh,” she said. “That you?”
I told her what had happened after she’d left us that night.
“It’s true,” Jennifer said.
“In fact, I’m the one who fired him,” Blackwell said. “I don’t mean to insult you, Epifania, but he’s out of a job and he’s probably with you for your money.”
She looked dazed, and a part of my heart went out to her. She was in love with him. It was clear. And now we were shoveling this on top of her. I felt terrible about it, but I also felt that she should know. In fact, she deserved to know the truth. In the wrong situation, Boss could become potentially dangerous.
She looked at all of us in disbelief. “All this because he slap her clutch?”
Blackwell put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “And other things. We don’t tolerate abuse at Wenn. And might I remind you, my dear, that if that man is willing to be abusive to Lisa, he might very well become abusive to you. Especially tonight. He’ll be angry tonight. I don’t think you should be alone with him tonight. Listen to me on this. I’m giving you good advice. OK?”
Unleash Me, Vol. 2 (Unleash Me, Annihilate Me Series) Page 13