Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Know (100 page)

Elisa gritted her teeth. ‘Oh, the publicist mentioned how both girls have crushes on Philip Weston. She wanted to know if he would come over and meet them.'

Kelly screeched. ‘Of course! Too easy! Bette, you and Philip will greet those girls the moment they walk in and show them to their seats. Tell Philip to flirt, flirt, flirt. Elisa, have Bette call and follow up with the publicist tomorrow, okay? Speaking of which, Bette, how are we doing with your end?'

I could feel Elisa staring at me, and I sensed the look wasn't filled with love. ‘Uh, everything seems to be in order.' My focus was the midnight surprise. I'd been working on it nonstop for the past month, ironing out every minute detail, and I was finally confident it was going to be spectacular. Kelly had approved my plan but insisted it stay between us, since she didn't want to risk anything being leaked to the press. As a result, no one but the two of us and Hef himself had any idea what was happening at midnight. ‘The midnight show is a go – I expect everything will run smoothly there.'

Elisa yawned loudly.

I continued. ‘I've credentialed all the press with passes that are impossible to copy, alter, or fake, and each will be sent by messenger to its recipient exactly one hour before start time. Here are copies of the press grid' – I paused here to pull out a stack of papers and pass them around the table – 'with every reporter and photographer who will be in attendance; what, if anything specific, they're most interested in covering; who they tend to feature the most; the people and places each will or will not be able to access; and, of course, their drink preferences.'

Kelly nodded and studied the sheet. ‘Are escorts listed on here?'

‘Certainly. Everyone from the office will take turns, according to my schedule, escorting various members of the press to ensure they're exposed to the people we'd like them to meet.'

‘I had a final meeting yesterday with the production company we're using, and I'm comfortable with how that side is shaping up,' Elisa interjected. ‘Their plans for bar layout, bartenders, lighting, risers, music, decorations, and catering all seem to mesh with our instructions and the client's preferences.'

Kelly pushed the lettuce around on her plate and then changed her mind, choosing to sip her chardonnay instead. ‘Okay, that's good,' she murmured. ‘But back to this press situation for a minute. Bette, did you touch base with all the photo editors to let them know they have our full cooperation with anything they might need?'

‘I did. I had a couple of the interns call them at the beginning of the week, and they reached everyone by Wednesday. All in all, I think we're in great shape.'

The lunch meeting continued like this for another hour before Kelly gave us the rest of the afternoon off to go home, attend grooming appointments, try to relax, and mentally prepare ourselves for the following evening. I'd already planned to stay in that night – with Millington and a huge bowl of extra-buttered microwave popcorn – and watch bad movie after bad movie on TNT, so I was ecstatic to hear that I had the afternoon off, too. Of course, the extra time would mean even more opportunity to think about Sammy. It hadn't been too much of a problem the past couple of weeks because I'd been swamped with prep work, but I shuddered to think of how much I could obsess if given a little free time.

Kelly paid the check and everyone was saying good-bye when Elisa pulled me aside.

‘Can I talk to you for a minute?' she asked.

‘Sure, what's going on?'

‘Look, I know that things have gotten a little weird between us, but I really think we should do our best to work together tomorrow night. Neither of us wants to spend the whole night
working,
so we need to figure out a system where only one of us is on and the other can relax. And then switch. You know?'

I was surprised to hear her acknowledge that there was tension between us, but I was glad she no longer seemed so annoyed. ‘Sure, sounds good. I can't imagine there's going to be much time tomorrow to do anything besides
deal,
but we can try, you know?'

This was apparently all she needed to hear. ‘Great. That sounds great. See you tomorrow, Bette!'

I watched as she tightened her fringed scarf around her emaciated neck and ducked into the cold street.
Strange girl,
I thought, watching her hail a cab. I waited until her taxi had pulled away before heading outside myself. I had all afternoon to myself for the first time in recent memory, and I didn't want to waste a single second of it.

I'd just finished
You've Got Mail
and was halfway through
Can't Buy Me Love
when the phone rang. I was surprised to see Penelope's number come up on caller ID – surprised and thrilled. I'd given her the bare-bones rundown on Sammy, but she had no idea how much I adored him. I'd managed to read between the lines of her upbeat soliloquies to determine that Avery wasn't around a whole lot, that she still hadn't found a job, and that the couples they were hanging out with weren't exactly her type, but she wouldn't admit any of this outright. Left with not much to say, we emailed each other silly forwards and texted stupid things and spoke very occasionally about safe subjects, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd received a good, old-fashioned, late-night call from my best friend.

‘Hey, B, how are you? Sorry to be calling so late, but the time difference really sucks and I figured you might still be up. Avery's out of town again and I don't really have anyone else out here to call and bother, so you're the lucky winner tonight!'

Her voice sounded hollow and I wished we were closer. ‘Pen, I'm so glad you called! How are you?'

‘I didn't wake you, did I?'

‘Hardly. Just watching bad movies. What's going on with you? It's so good to hear from you.'

‘Is your British trust-fund boyfriend there?' she asked.

Had everything been normal, Penelope would have already analyzed a hundred times over with me what Sammy's ‘being patient' meant, and would have reassured me repeatedly that it was only a matter of time before he and I would be together. Now, despite knowing about Sammy, she didn't even seem to understand that I wasn't actually dating Philip.

‘Pen, he's not my boyfriend, you know that. Philip and I are expected to go to the
Playboy
party together, but only for the photos.'

‘Right, of course. When is that? That's a big deal, right?'

‘It's tomorrow night! It's stressful because we've been working on it forever now and I'm pretty much first-in-command, after Kelly. But so far it seems like everything's in line. If the photographers behave themselves and the Bunnies all show up, we should be okay.'

We continued on like this for a few minutes, neither of us acknowledging that we had huge knowledge gaps about each other's lives.

‘So what do you plan to do about Abby and the fact that she keeps printing those lies about you?' she asked, sounding like the old Penelope for the first time all night.

I'd been trying not to think about it, but when I did, the anger – the feeling of being violated – was enough to drive me mad. ‘I still can't figure out why she hates me so much. It's torture not being able to confront her. Do you think people really believed that I was having an affair with the Hilton sex-tape guy? I don't even know his name!'

‘No one does,' she said, clucking quietly. ‘I have no idea what her problem is, although I guess it's not such a stretch to imagine her printing all this trash about you when she used to steal people's papers in college and pass them off as her own, right? Do you remember sophomore year when she skipped her grandmother's funeral because they were interviewing new columnists for the paper? The girl is seriously disturbed. Avery always said she's the type who'd sell out her own parents to get ahead, and I think he's right. He slept with her, of course, so I guess he'd know.'

‘What? Avery had sex with Abby? I didn't know that.'

‘I'm not totally sure, but I'm assuming he has. All of his friends did. Hell, every guy we know did her in college. I think I'd rather not know for sure, but if I had to bet …'

I swallowed a wave of nausea at the thought and mustered the energy to say, ‘So how is that fiancé of yours, anyway? You said he was out of town?'

Her sigh said more than any of the words that followed. ‘He's fine, I guess. I haven't seen a lot of him, that's for sure. I thought it would change once he was back in school and had to be on campus every day, but it's only given him more free time to stay out late. He's met a whole new crew of friends, so I guess that's good.'

‘Do you like any of their girlfriends?'

She snorted. ‘What girlfriends? They're all twenty-two-year-old kids, right out of school. He acts like he's the godfather and they're his acolytes. It's slightly disturbing, but how can I say anything?'

Well, that made two of us. I tried to steer the conversation to something more neutral. ‘I'm sure it's just a period of adjustment. Are you guys at least exploring the city? I know LA's no New York, but there's got to be something to do there, right?'

‘I go to the beach occasionally. Shop at Whole Foods, signed up for yoga, doing the whole Jamba Juice thing. Interviewing a lot. I know something will come up, but so far there's been nothing interesting. Avery'll be back the day after tomorrow, so maybe we'll take a little road trip to Laguna. Or Mexico again – that was nice. If he doesn't have to study the entire time.' She sounded so listless that I wanted to cry for her.

‘Where is he, honey? How long has he been gone?'

‘Oh, he's just back in New York for a few days. Family business of some sort – a meeting with his trust administrator and accountant or something like that. I'm not sure what, exactly, but I had an interview today, so he said he could handle it alone and there was no reason for me to fly all the way across the country.'

‘Got it. Well, I wish you were here to come with me to the
Playboy
party. I'd put you on Bunny patrol, have you scout the room and make sure all their tails stay attached. Sounds awesome, huh?'

‘Sure does. Bette, I miss you a lot.'

‘I miss you, too, Pen. And if you feel like it, get on a plane and come home for a visit. You didn't move to Guam, you're just on the left coast. If you're feeling a little homesick, we'd love to see you for a visit. Maybe you and me and Abby can go out for lunch and then read in the paper the next day that we were both seen having sex with the Giants' entire defensive line. Doesn't that sound fab?'

She laughed and I wanted to hug her. ‘To tell you the truth, I'm not necessarily opposed to having sex with the entire team. That's not bad, is it?'

‘It's sure not, honey, it's sure not. Listen, I've got to try and sleep a little because tomorrow's going to be brutally long, but can we talk when the party's finally over?'

‘Sure. It's just so good to hear your voice. Good luck getting through tomorrow night with no major scandals. I love you, B.'

‘I love you, too, Pen. Things are going to get better from here, I promise. I miss you, and I'll talk to you soon.'

I placed the receiver back on its base and crawled into bed to finish the movie, happy just knowing that Penelope and I would somehow be okay.

‘Check, one-two-three, check. Can everyone hear me? Count off. One …' I called into my earpiece, waiting for everyone else to call their numbers and let me know that the headphones were working. When Leo called out number sixteen, I knew we had everyone, and I took a deep breath. Guests were just beginning to show up and I was frantically trying to stem the tide of problems that wouldn't seem to stop. All my cool confidence and perfect plans from the day before were starting to seep away, and it was getting harder to quell my panic.

‘Skye, can you hear me?' I hissed into the microphone that crawled stealthily out of my ear and stopped right above my top lip.

‘Bette, honey, I'm right here. Calm down, everything's just fine.'

‘I'll calm down when you tell me that the step-and-repeat is finally finished. It looked like shit ten minutes ago.'

‘I'm standing outside, and it's all good. Thirty feet of
Playboy
Bunny logos on cardboard, just waiting for celebs to step in front of it for pictures. They put the finishing touches on it just a minute ago, and it should be dry in another few minutes. No worries.'

‘Elisa? Do we have the final schedule for press set up and with security? Sammy from Bungalow 8 is in charge of the VIP entrance, so he needs to know which photographers are allowed where.' I was barking orders like a lunatic and hating the sound of my own voice more with every passing minute. I hadn't hesitated when I'd said Sammy's name, though, and that was progress. He'd kissed me on the cheek when I'd arrived a few hours earlier and whispered ‘Good luck,' and it was all I could do not to faint. The only thing getting me through the night was the knowledge that we would be in the same room for the next six hours.

‘Check.
ET
and
Access Hollywood
have prime placement. E! was still wavering on whether they were coming – they're pissy they didn't get the exclusive – but if they send someone, we're ready. All of those plus CNN, MTV, and a guy who's doing a party documentary for Fox and has clearance from some big-name studio head are being allowed inside; regular tabloid paparazzi will remain outside. Everyone's been briefed on who's who and who's VIP enough to use this entrance. There's just one question. Who's Sammy?'

I couldn't very well point out over the mic that Sammy was hooked up to our system and listening to every word we were saying – nor that the mere sight of him set my nerves on fire. ‘Elisa, very cute. Just give him the list, okay?' I prayed she would drop it at that, but in her hunger-induced perma-haze, she persevered.