Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Know (179 page)

The brownies Brooke had made for dessert were gooier than she would've liked, and topped with whipped cream, vanilla ice cream, and chocolate chips, they looked more like a hot brownie stew, but they were delicious. Julian suited up in full snow gear to take Walter out for his final walk while Brooke cleaned up and made coffee. They met back in front of the fire. His cell phone rang, but he silenced it once again without glancing at the screen.

‘How are you feeling about not playing tonight? It must have been pretty strange to turn it down,' Brooke asked, resting her head in his lap.

Julian had been invited to perform on MTV's New Year's Eve countdown show in Times Square and then host a celeb-heavy party at the Hotel on Rivington from midnight on. He'd been thrilled when Leo told him about it in the early fall, but as the night got closer, Julian grew less and less enthused. When he finally instructed Leo to cancel the whole thing last week, no one was more shocked – or delighted – than Brooke. Especially when he'd turned to Brooke and asked if she'd join him in the Hamptons for a stay-at-home date night.

‘We don't have to talk about all that stuff tonight,' Julian said. She could tell he was trying to be sensitive to her, but it was clear something was bugging him.

‘I know,' Brooke said. ‘I just want to make sure you're not regretting it.'

Julian stroked her hair. ‘Are you crazy, woman? Between that whole
Today
show drama and all the travel, and looking ahead at how much crazier it's going to get next year, I just needed a break.
We
needed a break.'

‘We really did,' she murmured, feeling more contented than she had in months. ‘I'm guessing Leo isn't thrilled, but I sure am.'

‘Leo jumped the first flight to Punta del Este. He is no doubt knee-deep in tequila and eighteen-year-old girls. Do
not
feel badly for Leo.'

They finished their wine. Julian carefully drew first the screen and then the glass doors over the dwindling fire, and they walked upstairs hand in hand. This time it was the landline ringing, and before Julian could say a word, Brooke picked up an extension in the guest room she and Julian always stayed in.

‘Brooke? It's Samara. Look, sorry to call tonight, but I've been trying to reach Julian for hours. He said he was going to be out there, but he hasn't been answering his phone.'

‘Oh, hi, Samara. Yeah, he's right here. Hold on a sec.'

‘Wait, Brooke? Look, I know you can't be at the Grammys because of work, and I just wanted to reassure you that there will be some great after-parties in New York that I'll get the two of you into.'

Brooke thought she heard wrong. ‘What?'

‘The Grammys. For Julian's performance.'

‘Samara? Can you hold for just a minute?' She clicked the Mute button and walked into the bathroom, where Julian was filling the bathtub.

‘When were you going to tell me about the Grammys?' she asked, trying to keep the hysteria out of her voice.

He looked up at her. ‘I was going to wait until tomorrow. I didn't want it to dominate our entire night together.'

‘Oh come on, Julian! You don't want me to go, that's why you didn't say anything.'

At this, Julian looked truly alarmed. ‘Why would you think that? Of course I want you to!'

‘Well, it doesn't sound like Samara thinks so. She just told me she totally understands why I'm too busy with work to make it. Are you kidding? My husband is going to be performing at the Grammys and she thinks I can't get off
work
for it?'

‘Brooke, I'm guessing she only thinks that because you couldn't, uh, get off work for the Sony holiday party, you know? But I swear the only reason I didn't tell you yet is because I thought we could use a night without talking shop. I'll tell her you're coming.'

Brooke turned and headed back into the bedroom. ‘I'll tell her myself.'

She unmuted the phone and said, ‘Samara? There must have been some misunderstanding, because I'm definitely planning to accompany Julian.'

There was a long pause before Samara said, ‘You know it's a performance and not a nomination, right?'

‘I understand.'

Another pause. ‘And you're sure your own commitments won't interfere this time?'

Brooke wanted to scream at the girl that she didn't understand anything, but she forced herself to remain silent.

‘Well, okay then. We'll make that happen,' Samara said.

Brooke tried to ignore the hesitation – disappointment? – in her voice. Why should she care what Samara thought? ‘Okay, great. So, what should I wear? I mean, I definitely don't have anything that fancy. Do you think I should rent something?'

‘No! Let us handle everything, okay? We'll just need you to show up six hours before and we'll have a dress, shoes, undergarments, bag, jewelry, hair, and makeup. Don't wash your own hair for twenty-four hours beforehand, no fake-baking unless our stylist specifically recommends an aesthetician, get a good manicure and use either Allure by Essie or Bubble Bath by OPI, get a full leg and arm wax five to seven days ahead of time, and get a deep-conditioning hair treatment seventy-two hours before. As for color, I'll send you a recommendation for the salon we work with in New York. You'll start a highlighting regimen next week.'

‘Oh, wow. Okay, do you—'

‘Don't worry, I'll put this all in an e-mail and we'll review it. Listen, you know the cameras will be all over Julian, and I know Leo mentioned a trainer for you both – have you had time to think about that? – so let me make you an appointment at the place we got Julian's teeth done. The man's a genius, you can never tell they're caps, they really look so natural. You'll be amazed what a difference it makes.'

‘Um, okay. You'll just tell me what—'

‘We've got it covered. I'll touch base soon, Brooke. We'll work it all out. Can I talk to Julian? I promise it's just a quick question.'

Brooke nodded dumbly, completely unaware that Samara couldn't see her, and handed the phone to Julian, who'd come into the bedroom to get undressed. He said, ‘yes,' ‘no,' and ‘Sounds good, I'll call you tomorrow,' and then he turned to her.

‘Can you come get in the bath? Please?'

His eyes were pleading, and she forced herself to put the Grammys out of her mind. They had been having such a lovely night; she decided she shouldn't let any lingering weirdness ruin it. She followed him into the bathroom and stripped down.

They wouldn't ever sleep in Julian's parents' bed – way too creepy – but they did love using the master bathroom. It was heaven on earth, pure luxury. Heated floors, a massive soaking tub with a separate steam shower, and best of all, a small gas fireplace. Although he couldn't bring himself to climb into the piping hot water, Julian always drew Brooke a bath and, after his own shower, turned on the fire and climbed onto the tub platform, clad only in a towel, to keep her company.

Brooke spooned some more lavender salts into the water and lay back against the terry-cloth bath pillow. Julian was reminiscing about the first bath they'd taken together, on a weekend trip early in their relationship. He was recounting his misery over the scalding water, which he'd silently endured in an effort to impress, and Brooke could only gaze at him as he spoke, so overcome with that intense relaxation and utter exhaustion that comes from a piping-hot bath.

Afterward, wrapped in a huge plush bath sheet, Brooke walked with Julian back to their bedroom, where he'd lit a candle on either night table and turned on some relaxing music. They made love softly, slowly, like two people who have been together for years and know everything about each other, and for the first time in ages, they fell asleep entwined.

They slept until almost noon and woke to six inches of snow, a sure sign they'd be spending another night in the Hamptons. Delighted, Brooke gathered her mussed hair into a bun, pulled on her Uggs and her puffy winter coat, and climbed in the passenger side of the Jeep the Alters kept there year-round. Julian looked adorably dorky in one of his father's winter hats he'd found in the closet; it was topped with a yarn ball, and extending from the earflaps were strings that could be tied under the chin. He pulled up to the East Hampton Starbucks so Brooke could run in for a
Times,
but then they headed to the Golden Pear Café for breakfast.

Ensconced in a booth with her hands wrapped around a cup of hot coffee, Brooke sighed in happy contentment. If she could've scripted the most perfect New Year's Eve ever, it would've looked exactly like their last twenty-four hours. Julian was reading aloud to her from the paper, an article about a man imprisoned for twenty-eight years before being exonerated by DNA evidence, when her phone rang.

He looked up.

‘It's Nola,' Brooke said, staring at the screen.

‘Aren't you going to answer it?'

‘You don't mind? She's going to want to tell me all about her night, I'm guessing.'

Julian shook his head. ‘I'm happy to just sit here and read. I really don't mind.'

‘Hey, Nol,' Brooke said as quietly as possible. She couldn't stand people shouting into cell phones.

‘Brooke? Where are you?'

‘What do you mean, where are we? We're in the Hamptons, you know that. I actually think with all this snow, we're going to have to stay until—'

‘Have you seen the online edition of
Last Night
yet?' Nola interrupted.

‘
Last Night
? No, the Wi-Fi at the house was down. I have the
Times
right here …'

‘Look, I'm only telling you this because I don't want you to hear it somewhere else.
Last Night
wrote this whole horrible column this morning, theorizing on all the possible reasons Julian canceled his New Year's gig last night.'

‘They
what
?'

Julian looked at her and raised his eyes questioningly.

‘Of course they're all ridiculous. But I remember you said Leo was in South America somewhere, and, well, I just thought you guys might want to know if you didn't already.'

Brooke took a deep breath. ‘Great. That's just great. Can you tell me what it said?'

‘Just pull it up on Julian's phone, okay? I'm really sorry to ruin your morning, but it also says that you two are probably “hiding out” in the Hamptons, so I wanted to give you the heads-up that you might get some company.'

‘Oh no,' Brooke moaned.

‘I'm sorry, sweetheart. Let me know if I can do anything, okay?'

They said good-bye and Brooke only realized after they'd hung up that she hadn't so much as asked about Nola's night.

Before she was even finished briefing Julian, he began searching for the
Last Night
article on his phone. ‘Here, I got it.'

‘Read it out loud.'

Julian's eyes skimmed back and forth. ‘Wow,' he murmured, flicking the screen with his pointer finger. ‘Where do they get this stuff?'

‘Julian! Start reading or hand it over!'

A timid young girl not a day over sixteen appeared at their table holding two plates. She looked at Julian, but Brooke wasn't totally positive she recognized him. ‘Veggie egg white omelet with wheat?' she asked in a near-whisper.

‘Right here,' Brooke said, holding up a hand.

‘I guess that means you're having the breakfast combo?' she said to Julian with a smile so huge there was no longer any doubt. ‘French toast with powdered sugar, two eggs sunny-side up, and well-done bacon. Can I get you guys anything else?'

‘Thanks, we're good,' Julian said, immediately plunging his fork into the fluffy French toast. She had completely lost her appetite.

He washed everything down with a swig of coffee and picked up his phone again. ‘You ready?'

Brooke nodded.

‘Okay. The headline is “Where Is Julian Alter?”
and right next to it is a picture taken from god knows where of me looking sweaty and wasted.' He showed her the screen.

Brooke chewed her dry toast, wishing she'd opted for the rye. ‘I recognize that one. It was taken thirty seconds after you walked offstage after your performance at Kristen Stewart's party in Miami. It was ninety-five degrees that day and you'd been singing for nearly an hour.'

Julian began reading. ‘“Although sources tell us the famous singer is hiding out in his parents' house in East Hampton after canceling a New Year's Eve MTV performance last night, what no one seems able to agree on is
why.
Many suspect trouble in paradise for the sexy crooner who shot to fame with his debut album,
For the Lost.
One source with knowledge of the music industry claims that now is ‘temptation time' when so many quick-rising stars give in to the lure of drugs. Although there have been no
specific
reports of drug abuse, ‘rehab is one of the first places I look when a new artist goes off the radar,' said the music industry source.”'

Julian looked up at her, his mouth agape, the phone hanging limply in his hand. ‘They're suggesting I'm in
rehab
?' he asked.

‘I don't think they're suggesting
you're
in rehab per se,' Brooke said, drawing out her words. ‘Actually, I'm not sure what they're saying. Keep reading.'

‘“A source with knowledge of the music industry”?' Julian read again. ‘Are they kidding?'

‘Keep reading.' Brooke ate a forkful of omelet and tried to look unworried.

‘“Others claim Julian and his long-term love, nutritionist wife Brooke, have been feeling the strain of fame. ‘I can't imagine any couple thriving under such trying circumstances,' said noted Beverly Hills psychiatrist Ira Melnick, who has not treated the Alters personally but has broad experience with such ‘inter-fame couples' (where one person is famous and the other is unknown). ‘If they are in fact receiving couples' counseling right now,' Dr. Melnick continued, ‘they'll at least have a fighting chance.'”'