Twelve
“Eureka!” Greenberg cried, pulling his car into an empty parking spot on the right side of East Twenty-second Street.
“A good omen,” Jane said with a laugh from the seat beside him. “I know this is going to be a fabulous nightâHolly Griffin notwithstanding.”
“I've never met this Holly.” Daniel, in the backseat, sounded thoughtful.
Jane turned in her seat to look at him. “Take my advice. Meet it and beat it. Otherwise, she'll spoil your evening, I promise you that.”
“Oh, Jane.” Laura, next to Daniel, scoffed. “How bad could she be? She bought this novel of Carol Freund's for a hundred thousand dollars, she's throwing this big bash for her, and she's introducing you to Goddess, who will probably become your client!”
“True,” Jane conceded. “But whose side are you on?”
They all laughed and got out of the car.
“Corsair's in that building.” Jane pointed across the street to a six-story building that, according to Holly, had once been a factory but had been converted into an elegant office building. Corsair occupied all but the first floor, which it rented to an advertising agency.
Jane checked her watch. It was a few minutes after eight. People were already streaming in through the building's wide glass double front doors. Jane, Greenberg, Daniel, and Laura joined the crowd and were directed by a security guard to the fourth floor.
They took the elevator and emerged into a corridor. At the left stood a young womanâJane presumed she was an assistant at Corsairâwho informed them that the party was being held in the library, down the corridor in the opposite direction, on the left.
Following these directions, they entered a vast, high-ceilinged room that appeared to be a combination library and conference room. There was already quite a crowd of men and women, most in trendy black, chattering as they sipped drinks and munched hors d'oeuvres.
Jane scanned the room. A bar had been set up on the far left, and the line was already long. At the opposite end of the room, in front of a wall of bookcases with a door in the middle, sat a dais, on which a microphone and an immense white projection screen had been set up. Jane wondered what all that was for. Against the wall directly opposite the room's entrance, several tables bore tiered trays of finger food.
“I've got to find Carol,” Jane told Daniel.
“I'll look, too. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thanks.” Jane moved to one side, out of the stream of people pouring into the room, and squinted as she searched for Carol Freund. Knowing shy Carol, she'd be on the sidelines somewhere, so Jane let her gaze skim the room's perimeter.
“There she is,” she said to Greenberg, pointing. Carol, in a black cocktail dress that didn't look quite right on her stocky frame, stood alone near a door on the far left side of the room. Jane took Greenberg by the hand and led him over to her.
“Jane!” Carol's face lit up. “Thank goodness you're here!”
“Why? What's wrong?”
“Nothing. It's just that this is so . . . overwhelming!”
“It's all for you, my dear,” Jane said. “Enjoy it.” She introduced Greenberg, and they shook hands.
“Are all publication parties like this?” Carol asked Greenberg.
He shrugged exaggeratedly. “It's my first, too. Ask the expert.”
Jane smiled. “I have a feeling this one will be different from most. Holly says she's got something special planned.”
“Have you seen Holly?” Carol asked.
“I have,” Daniel said, appearing with Laura at his side. “She was over there talking up some agent who looked familiar but whose name I can't remember.”
“That sounds like Holly,” Jane said, and shot Carol a knowing look. They both giggled.
Carol said, “Now, Jane, you must admit she's been very good to me.” Throwing out her hands, she indicated the teeming party.
“True, she has,” Jane hated to admit.
“Janey, Janey, Janey!”
Jane jumped. Holly had appeared as if from nowhere and stood, positively beaming, in the circle that Jane, Greenberg, Carol, Daniel, and Laura had formed.
Jane blinked. Holly had once again changed her look and could have been a different person from the one Jane had had lunch with only two days ago. The Cleopatra look was gone. Holly had had her hair shorn to crew-cut length and dyed a deep red, almost magenta, and she wore sandals and a sheath of what looked like crushed velvet in the exact same shade.
“Hello, Holly,” Jane said, stepping forward for the obligatory air-kiss exchange. “You lookâdifferent.”
“You like the look?” Holly asked eagerly. “
I
love it! I had help with it.” She winked at Jane conspiratorially, and it occurred to Jane that Holly meant she'd had help from Goddess, who was known for her fashion eccentricity.
Since Holly had already said she loved her own look, Jane felt no need to comment on it, especially since she thought Holly looked awful. She just smiled.
“Isn't it just a scream?” Holly rattled on. She giggled. “Jane, we're both redheads now!”
Jane, alarmed at this thought, shook her head vehemently. “My hair is auburn, Holly, not red.”
“Ooh, right, sorry,” Holly said sarcastically.
Is it considered good manners to strangle an editor in the middle of a publication party?
Holly turned to Carol. “Well, Big Author, how do you like all this? Pretty cool, huh?”
Carol opened her mouth to speak, but Carol always weighed her words carefully, and there was a pause as she considered.
Jane interjected, “It's . . . fabu!”
“Sure is,” Holly said. She looked around the circle and smiled with feigned demureness. “So introduce me, Jane.”
“Of course, I'm sorry,” Jane said. “Holly Griffin, I'd like you to meet Laura Dennison, and this is Daniel, my assistant, whom you've spoken to, of course.”
“Ah!” Holly screamed. “That velvet voice on the phone! Whoa, Jane, my girl, he's
gor
geous. You never told me.”
Daniel, embarrassed, looked down. Jane shot a quick glance at Laura, who seemed to be struggling to maintain even a tiny smile.
“And this is Stanley Greenberg,” Jane said.
Greenberg put out his hand rather shyly. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Griffin.”
Holly opened her mouth wide. “I love it. Call me Hollyâplease.”
“All right,” Greenberg said, smiling. “Holly.”
Holly turned to Jane. “One of your authors?”
“No, a police detective,” Jane said proudly.
“Yikes!” Holly said, and made an exaggerated I'd-better-watch-out face. “Guess I'll have to behave myself, huh?”
Greenberg laughed politely.
“And now,” Holly said, “I want you to meet someone. I see her over there. Don't move.” She darted away, leaving the others looking at one another. She returned a moment later with a woman in tow.
Jane heard Laura gasp when she saw Goddess, who stood next to Holly, surveying the group with a perfectly deadpan expression.
“Everyone,” Holly announced, “I would like you to meet the one and only, the worldwide sensationâGoddess!”
They all smiled and stared at her, and Jane realized that Laura had gasped not only because she'd seen Goddess, but because of what Goddess wore: lavender hot pants straight out of the seventies, and her bra! She was as tiny as she appeared in her movies and music videos. This tininess accentuated the length and volume of her hair, that famous light brown mass that hung to below her waist, silky and straight, a curtain around her. Her features, in that legendary heart-shaped face, were perfect, like those of a tiny beautiful doll.
Holly introduced everyone in turn. No one extended a hand, because it was immediately clear that Goddess had no intention of shaking hands with anyone. She acknowledged each introduction with a mere small nod of her head.
“We're so unbelievably lucky to have Goddess with us tonight,” Holly gushed, looking as if she would bubble over. “I don't know how many of you are aware that Goddess plans to write her life story.”
All twentysomething years of it
, Jane thought.
“Goddess, needless to say, has lived quite a colorful life,” Holly went on. “I should know. I've known her since she was a little girl, and anything about her life that I
didn't
know, Goddess has now told me, and believe me, it's an
amazing
story!” She cast a meaningful look all around the little circle. “Goddess is putting it
all
in her bookâand letting the chips fall where they may!”
Goddess, who still had not spoken a word, just nodded.
Jane decided to pick up on what Holly had just said. “I would be very interested in discussing your book with you,” she said to Goddess. “Holly tells me you're looking for an agent.”
“Yes, I am,” Goddess said in that voice familiar the world over, high and slightly nasal. “Let's go get a drink,” she said to Jane. “I want to talk to you about it.”
Jane, surprised, smiled. “All right.”
Goddess led the way through the crowd to the bar, and Jane followed. Along the way, she made note of a number of other luminaries. She recognized Neil Sedaka at the hors d'oeuvres table, grabbing a piece of cheese-stuffed celery. A few feet away, Ben Gazzara was laughing it up with Adnan Khashoggi, at whose side stood a breathtakingly exquisite brunette. Jane almost collided with teetering old Dinah Calhoun, the legendary Broadway star who had once been married to Jane and Kenneth's ex-boss, agent Henry Silver. And then she spotted the loathsome Henry himself, who looked more than ever like a liver-spotted frog. Beside him stood a black-haired, pale-skinned young woman who Jane guessed was his latest wife, his fourth. Henry himself was in his eighties, and had had the industry buzzing recently when he married this former editor less than half his age. Jane had called it a Viagra marriage. Jane wondered if Beryl Patrice, who ran Henry's agency, was there. Perhaps she was, and had popped into the ladies' room with her flask of vodka.
Henry and his wife were chatting with Dina Merrill, at whose side stood Jack Layton, Corsair's editor in chief.
“How many publishers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” Jack was saying.
Henry, his child bride, and Dina just stared at him.
“Three!” Jack cried. “One to screw it in, and two to hold down the author!”
Jane turned away too quickly to catch their reaction. She didn't want Henry to see her. She knew that if he did, he would be perfectly charming, even though she knew he disliked her as much as she disliked him. In Henry's eyes, Jane had, after all, taken away and married Kenneth Stuart, one of the most successful agents that Henry's agency, Silver and Payne, had ever employed. For her part, Jane had her own bone to pick with Henry: Last fall Henry and Beryl had tried to hire Daniel, who thankfully had remained loyal to Jane and declined their offer.
Jane reached the bar.
Goddess was waiting for her. “What'll it be?”
“Just some mineral water, please,” Jane said.
Goddess shrugged and got Jane her water. For herself she requested a gin and tonic.
At that moment Laura arrived at the bar, next to Jane.
“Isn't this something?” Laura said, her eyes fixed on Goddess on Jane's other side.
Jane realized that Daniel was standing at Laura's other side, two drinks in hand. “Laura,” he said, but she was so intent on watching Goddess that she didn't hear him. “Laura.”
She turned to him. “Sorry.” She took her cola. “Thanks. Jane, I had no idea the world you and Daniel work in was so . . . glamorous!”
“Believe me, Laura, most of the time it's justâ”
But Jane couldn't complete her sentence, because at that moment there came the ear-piercing squeal of a loudspeaker. Jane looked up and saw Holly standing on the dais at the far opposite end of the room, before the white screen.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Holly said, and waited a moment for everyone to quiet down before continuing. Then she beckoned animatedly to Carol Freund, who stepped reluctantly onto the dais to stand beside Holly.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Holly continued, putting one arm around Carol, “I would like to propose a toast to one of the most talented novelists I have ever had the privilege to publish.” She raised her glass. “To Carol Freund and
Relevant Gods
, the most exciting new novel to come along in
decades
.”
This is so Holly,
Jane thought with a roll of her eyes as she and the rest of the crowd raised their glasses. Everything with Holly was “the most.” Besides which, Holly, who was probably around thirty-four, had barely worked in publishing for one decade, so she really didn't even know what she was talking about. But that, Jane reflected, could have been said about many editors.
“May this be the beginning of a long and sparkling career!” Holly finished the toast, while Carol looked down, embarrassed. Holly said something to her, and she stepped off the dais.
“And
now
,” Holly went on, looking as if she would explode, “I have a very special treat for all of you. With us tonight is someone who needs no introduction, a worldwide phenomenon who continues to stun us with her talent and versatility. You've seen her act, you've heard her sing, you've watched her dance. And tonight you will watch her in person. Ladies and gentlemen, here to perform one of the numbers from her record-breaking Broadway show,
Goddess of Love
, is the inimitable, the amazing . . . Goddess!”