Elly in Love (The Elly Series) (32 page)

Elly couldn’t see.
She. Could. Not. See.
She was blind, stumbling down a red carpet—had that been there before?—trying to see the limo, trying to see anything. At one point, she veered toward the crowd, only to be pushed back by people screaming Lola’s name and reaching out for her autograph. After that, it all happened so quickly. The dazzling flashbulbs paused for a mere second, but it was enough to reduce her vision to sudden darkness. Her heel turned, and before she could right herself, she was plunging down toward the velvet rope that held back the hungry wolves. It wrapped itself under her waist, and flung her forward, sending her face first into the carpet. Wedding papers flew everywhere, flurrying like snow on a winter morning, and Elly was vaguely aware that her skirt
migh
t have ripped up the leg.
A skirt that was
so
expensive.
An awkward hush fell over the paparazzi as Elly pushed herself up. Her face was on fire. She quickly scurried to her knees, prepared to have a million pictures of her black granny panties posted on the first page of every newspaper from St. Louis to New York. But there wasn’t anyone taking a picture of her. All the cameras were following Lola as she climbed into the limo, one hand raised above her eyes to shield them from the blasts of the flashes, the other one wrapped around her bodyguard’s arm.

A man with a camera around his neck reached down and helped Elly to her feet. “Hey, you okay?” He had barely spoken to her before his camera was back up and taking rapid photos of Lola. Her ears ringing, Elly stumbled up to her feet and promptly reached down and took off her heels. Putting her bare feet on the red carpet, she felt more steady, and allowed herself a deep breath as the cameras clicked and whirred all around her. She gathered up the papers, trying to remember to bend at the knees and not moon every member of the St. Louis press.

Lola waved to her out the limo window. “Elly, come on! We aren’t leaving without you!”

Once Lola spoke her name, it was almost as if an invisible hand turned all the camera lenses toward Elly. She understood once Lola had spoken her name, it had brought her into existence with the paparazzi, whereas before, she had just been a part of the background. Ducking her head, a golden curl gracing her face, Elly quickly made her way to the limo. She felt flashbulbs taking her picture and prayed that everything was in its rightful place inside its clothing. She ducked her head and climbed into the limo carefully, very mindful not to give the cameras a second view of her underwear. She could see the headlines now: “Mystery Friend of Lola Plumb Reveals Ugliest and Oldest Panties Known to Man.”

One of the redheaded twins reached over Elly to slam the limo door shut. “That took forever. Nice recovery, though. Let’s get this show on the road!”

“Wait!” cried Elly. “My shoes!”

The twin winked before the limo squealed away from the curb, leaving hundreds of paparazzi cameras lonely and unsatisfied, all the photographers already running for their rental cars. St. Louis had never seen such a frenzy.

The entourage, all lanky and curled around each other, reminded Elly of a bunch of newborn kittens. Robbey, the redhead, blinked his very pretty eyes at Elly before passing a bottle of scotch to her, which she passed back to him without a second glance. “No, thanks. I’m more of a wine girl.”

The wispy model leaned over Lola as the limo sped up Highway 40. “I just texted the bouncer at the Supper Club. He’s already set up bottle service in the VIP lounge.”

Lola nodded her head. “Excellent. I love that place. It’s the only real club in this town.” She stood up, stumbled across the limo and snuggled up beside Elly. “You’ll love the Supper Club.”

“Oh? Do they have like specials, or….” Elly was pretty sure that she could not afford a meal at any place that Lola Plumb ate, or didn’t eat. The entire limo burst out laughing at this poor, pathetic regular human.

“Oh, Elly.” Lola looked at her with a playful smile.

Robbey leaned forward. “Elly. The Supper Club isn’t a place with food. It’s the only secret nightclub in St. Louis. They have the best parties in town. It’s not Graystone Manor, but it will have to do for now.”

“Oh.”
Sorry I assumed that a supper club would actually have, you know, dinner.
The bottle of scotch came back around, and again Elly passed it on, purposefully handing it over Lola.

“What’s the matter? Don’t want our little bride to be to drink?” The wispy blond sneered at Elly from the corner, where the robust Scotsman kissed her neck. “We are partying tonight, right Lola? What are you here for again?”

“Funny you should ask.” Elly whipped out the manila envelope again and the entire limo gave a collective groan.

“Shush,” murmured Lola. “It’s fine.”

“Lola, if I could just have, like, ten minutes to talk to you about your wedding flowers, that’s all I need.”

Lola leaned her head back against the seat. “A distraction would be nice,” she whispered to Elly, her voice breaking over the words. She was trying, Elly could see, trying to be good.

Elly looked around the car, realizing instantly why it was so hard for a celebrity on this level to stay sober. And she decided that she would stay with Lola all night, if that’s what it took. Lola Plumb would not end up naked under the arch tonight, not on her watch. She could be the friend Lola needed, not the friends who were trying their best to fling her off the wagon. She shuffled the papers in her hand. “Well, about the navy-blue flowers, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about….” Everything went dark, and then some hidden button was pushed, and suddenly the limo became a haven of spinning lights and club music. “Um, excuse me, I can’t—I can’t see my file?” said Elly, feeling increasingly like a dowdy chaperone.

“Too bad,” someone snapped in the darkness, followed by annoying giggles. Couples began groping each other in the dark, and more alcohol was passed around, each drink more potent than the last. She turned her head so that she could see Lola, who was almost removed from it all, her face focused on the open sunroof, her teary eyes trained on the stars. Poor Lola. Resisting this temptation seemed almost impossible when those around you needed it to continue to have the lifestyle they desired. As the limo roared through the night, Lola began clenching the seat cushion with one hand. Elly reached down and grabbed it in the dark, wrapping her solid fingers around Lola’s tiny hand.

Lola turned her wide eyes to Elly, and Elly could see that in this frenzied light, the gorgeous Lola Plumb looked much older than her years. “Elly?”

“Yup.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

Poor Lola.
Elly smiled at her. “Nothing. There is nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why does everyone hate me?”

Elly patted her hand gently. “I don’t hate you. I think that you are the nicest celebrity I have ever met.”

“Am I the only celebrity you’ve ever met?”

“I met a news anchor once.”

Lola laughed. “That’s funny. You’re funny, Elly.”

“You’re the first, but I think you are definitely the best.”

“Thanks.” The rest of the group was whispering to each other, and texting frantically on their phones in between hungry gulps of hard liquor, straight from the bottle. The wispy blond girl pointed a manicured finger at Elly. “You’re killing the mood.”

Elly bit her cheek. “I could care less about your mood. I’m here for business.” She looked back at the girl, who arched her eyebrow like a James Bond girl. “What are you here for, exactly?”

The girl sat back with a huff. “Whatever. They probably won’t even let you into the club.”

“Brittany, shut up,” moaned Lola. “Who are you texting all the time? Every person you know is riding in this limo.”

“Whatever.” Brittany turned away from them and began sloppily kissing one of the redheaded twins
.

Ugh.
Elly’s empty stomach gave a lurch. The limo came to a hard stop and they tumbled out of the car like drunken clowns, one right after each other, leaving Elly and Lola behind. Elly let Lola get out first, and again there was the blinding lights of the cameras, the screaming of her name, the yelled accusations of cheating, drinking, everything. After Lola passed inside the door, Elly climbed out of the limo. Luckily, no one cared. Elly had never heard of the Supper Club before, which was surprising, since she had heard of almost all of St. Louis’s venues. Whereas the entrance to Pierre’s had been well marked with a popular storefront, the Supper Club was at the back of a warehouse, with only a small hand-painted sign to mark it.
It was that cool.
Three bouncers let them pass through, eyeing a barefoot Elly with confusion as she walked in while talking quietly to Lola. They walked through two grimy metal doors, and then through a pair of exquisite white curtains. The linen parted and suddenly Elly found herself at a loss for words. The club was like stepping into another world. High ceilings covered with mirrored tiles arched overhead, and just beneath them, a scantily clad aerialist swung by her knees over the crowd, occasionally grabbing someone’s drink from her trapeze bar.

“Oh my gosh, that is
so
dangerous!” yelped Elly before she could control herself.

Lola’s posse burst out laughing. “Come on, let’s go find the VIP section.” They walked through the middle of the club, which was filled with gorgeous, grinding bodies, all throwing their open hands up to reach for the glistening chandeliers that twirled overhead. Some random arms wrapped themselves around Elly and began dancing behind her. “Uh, no thank you!” she chirped, and removed a hand that was slowly creeping into an inappropriate zone.

A stunning Spanish man in the tightest white T-shirt she had ever seen grinned back at her. “What’s wrong, mama? I love your curves!”

“Thank you for the compliment. I’m just not interested.”

His mouth dropped open as he looked past Elly. “
Oh my gosh
. Is that Lola Plumb?” Suddenly, everyone around them was asking the same question and Elly began to see camera phones rising out of the darkness. As if someone had blown an invisible whistle, suddenly there were a thousand people pressing against them, each one trying to get close to Lola. The Scotsman began roughly shoving people away from Lola, who was being grabbed from all around. Someone grabbed her sunglasses from the top of her head, and there were hands touching her hip and arms, so many hands. Elly felt claustrophobic in the crush of sweaty beautiful people, and began to make her way toward the narrow stairs where Lola had been attempting to go. Someone’s arm pressed against her forehead, and then she found herself trapped under a sweaty armpit that was gyrating with alarming passion.

“Argh! Get off!”
This was so not the place for a thirty-three-year-old to be
. This thirty-three-year-old should be on her couch with her boyfriend and a good movie starring Meryl Streep.
Oh, but you ended things, remember?
That’s right. Elly closed her eyes for a moment and thought about Keith. She was thankfully interrupted from going down that road by Lola’s hand brushing her arm. She was being carried by the Scotsman.
Oh, so that’s what he was for.
“Let’s get out of here,” Elly breathed. “This is getting a little scary for you.”

Lola nodded. They made their way up the staircase, the flash of a thousand cameras capturing Lola’s behind. There was a disturbing lack of clicking when Elly made her way up behind her. Their table, gorgeously dressed in crystal and all-white linens, was waiting for them. Their booth overlooked the entire club, putting them at the same height with the aerialist. It was a stunning sight, seeing throngs of dancers from above.
Fame
, thought Elly.
This is what it looks like. Attractive and ridiculous in equal measure
.

A team of waiters descended on the group. Lola waved her hand, and the model with the Afro began rattling off a long list of liquors.

“Excuse me.” Elly was climbing over the rest of the entourage to try and sit by Lola. “Sorry. Oops, that’s your foot. So sorry.” Annoyed looks followed her all the way down the table until she pushed herself between Robbey and Lola. “Lola. Give me five minutes to talk to you about flowers.”

Lola stared past her with watery eyes. “I miss Joe. He’s not going to be happy that I went out. I should marry him, right?”

Elly gave her a kind smile. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Yes, you can. No one tells me anything, except what I should wear and say, what movies I should do, what I shouldn’t do, and who I should talk to.”

Elly paused, carefully weighing the cost of advice on her tongue. “I used to be attracted to the wrong type of men. I wasted so much time bending to their whims and moods, and it took away a part of me that I had to fight very hard to get back. Then I met a man who was the opposite of what I thought I wanted.” Her voice quavered as she thought of the vulnerable look in Keith’s eyes when she ran her fingers down his face. “I can tell you that the kind of man you want to spend the rest of your life with is the kind that encourages your best habits and most ambitious dreams. Crashing waves are all very romantic, but every time I gave into them, I ended up decimated and sunburned on the shore. A steady sea is best, if you are going to love with abandon. Does that make sense?”

Lola’s eyes were confused. “Are you saying I should buy a boat?”

Elly shook her head. “Never mind. About your flowers. I think we should rethink the navy-blue flowers, and any flowers that are dyed, period. In fact, if you trust me….”

“The hooch is here!” crowed Brittany, pushing her arm in front of Elly’s face to give Lola a shot, which she took with a grimace before Elly could stop her.

“What are you doing?” hissed Elly. “She’s sober.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “I’ve only heard that a million times. She can be sober next week.”

Lola slammed the glass down on the table. “Ooh, that was good. So the flowers, you were saying that I shouldn’t go with dyed flowers? What about the navy blue? Can we still have all the wildflowers? Gemma said no, but it made me sad.” She paused and reached for another shot. “My parents’ wedding colors were navy blue and pink. My father wore a pinstripe suit. They had wildflowers.” The shot went down, followed by another. Her entourage cheered as an aerialist swung very close to the table, showering glitter down on them.