Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Know (70 page)

This didn't really sound like a question. ‘Oh, I'm not sure he'll be calling,' I mumbled, realizing that absolutely no one would believe we hadn't slept together.

She peered at me intently and then broke into a wide grin. ‘Bette, sweetie, you might be the last person to realize this, but in your own unique way, you're beautiful. And it's a widely known fact that no one loves beautiful girls more than Philip Weston. Of course he will call. And you'll say yes, right? And naturally, please invite him to all our events or stay out as late as you need to when you're with him.'

I could feel a weird sense of elation – like a high school crush – rising in my chest.

‘Uh, sure. Okay, I'll keep that in mind.' Suddenly, I wanted to hug her.

‘Great. I'm so excited for you! Definitely keep me updated. Should we get started?'

‘Yes, let's,' I breathed, relieved to end this very strange discussion. ‘You were going to tell me about The List, right?'

‘Yes. The List. The single most crucial tool for ensuring a firm's success. We're nothing without the people we can provide for our clients, so I've spent years putting together one of the biggest databases in the industry. Pull your chair around so you can see.'

I yanked the furry stool to her side of the desk and settled in as she double-clicked an icon on her desktop. ‘Here it is,' she purred. ‘My baby. The most comprehensive list of tastemakers ever, anywhere.'

The screen resembled a search page you might encounter on a personals or apartment-rental website. You simply chose your search requirements, ticked their adjacent boxes, and hit Find. There were four main locations you could browse – New York, Los Angeles, Miami, and the Hamptons – but smaller, less complete lists existed for another dozen cities in the United States, and about two dozen abroad. The search criteria appeared endless. In a vertical row starting in the upper-left-hand corner, they were listed, in no particular order: Art, Literary, Film Production, Newspapers, Fashion, Record Label, Social, Young Social, Media Elites, Finance, Magazines, Architecture, Retail, Miscellaneous.

‘You just key in the types of people you're looking for and the program provides you with all the information. Here, watch.' She quickly checked off ‘Literary' and ‘Young Social' and showed me the thousands of returns. ‘We know everything about everyone. Full name, home address, work address, all phones, faxes, pagers, emails, country houses, beach houses, international addresses, birthdays, spouse information, and details on both the children and their nannies. There's also a subset – if you need to narrow it down even further – that tells you if a particular person is gay, straight, single, monogamous, or cheating, in addition to whether they party, travel, or get mentioned in gossip columns a great deal. It makes it pretty easy to hand-pick exactly who will be there when you know everything about their lives, you know?'

I just nodded, as there seemed no more appropriate response.

‘Here, let's take your uncle, for instance.' She typed his name into a search field and up popped all his relevant info: Central Park West address and phone, office information, his exact title at the paper and the name of the column, the number of years he'd been writing, his nationwide readership, his birthday, and a short sentence about how he traveled frequently to Key West and Europe. Under ‘cross-reference' he was described as ‘Gay,' ‘Literary,' ‘Newspaper,' and ‘Media Elite.' I noticed there was no Christian Coalition Reactionary category, but I said nothing.

‘I've never seen anything like this.' I was unable to tear my eyes from the screen.

‘It's incredible, isn't it? And that's not all. If you'll notice, there are no regular media people or celebrities in this database. We have separate ones for them since those are the two most crucial groups.'

‘Separate ones?'

‘Well, sure. Look.' She closed down the first program and clicked on an icon that read ‘Press.' ‘There are media elites – people like your uncle, Frank Rich, Dan Rather, Barbara Walters, Rupert Murdoch, Mort Zuckerman, Tom Brokaw, Arthur Sulzberger, Thomas Friedman, etcetera, etcetera, who of course you want at events because of their high profile, but you can't honestly expect them to cover anything. They're just like celebrities in their own right, which is why we need to have a completely separate database of real working media – all the people at the papers, magazines, TV, and radio who can actually give us the coverage we promise our clients. Of course, there's always overlap. You can have a socialite who also happens to work in magazines or a film exec who writes reviews for a local paper, so we just cross-list everyone.'

I took the mouse from her and scrolled through the separate fields, noticing that the media database was broken down by demographic, so you could best pitch the specific people covering music, design, travel, lifestyle, fashion, entertainment, gossip, celebrity, sports, or social engagements.

‘This is absolutely incredible. How many are there total?'

‘Between all three databases, probably close to thirty-five thousand. You haven't even seen the celeb one yet, which is our most important.' Another couple clicks and a list of the world's richest, most famous, and most beautiful people popped to the forefront.

‘This is the industry list. With each celeb, we've also listed their current publicist, agent, manager, assistants, and family information, in addition to birthdays, current and upcoming projects, and preferences – everything from airlines to flowers, waters, coffees, liquors, hotels, designers, and music. We update this one pretty much hourly.'

She opened the profile for Charlize Theron and I saw that she had homes in South Africa, Malibu, and the Hollywood Hills; was dating Stuart Townsend; would only fly American Airlines first class or private jet; was currently shooting a movie in Rome; was signed on for another film in five months; and maintained a staff of four, with her agent temporarily also acting as her publicist.

‘How do they all get updated? I mean, how could you possibly know all this stuff?'

Kelly threw her head back, clearly delighted by my shock. ‘Elisa introduced you to the List Girls, yes?'

I nodded.

‘It's not the most glamorous job in the world, but they've got the right connections, and we give them lots of perks to read every single publication known to man – in print and online – and take from that whatever they can to fill in the blanks. There are three of them, and they're all very socially connected family-wise, and they go out constantly anyway and meet people everywhere. Just this morning
New York
magazine came out with their Baby Power issue – the fifty kids in New York under the age of thirty who are the most accomplished in their fields. If they weren't in there already, every one of them has now been entered into our database.'

‘Amazing. Really, Kell, it's amazing.'

‘It sure is. Why don't you put a practice list together? Let's say we're planning a party for Asprey to celebrate the opening of their second store in the United States. It'll be held at the store on Fifth, and the company's main concern is that Americans simply aren't as familiar with the brand as the English are, and they're looking for more name recognition. Pull five hundred total fits: four hundred regular attendees and a hundred mixed of celebs and targeted press. Of course, an actual event like that would only have a hundred to a hundred fifty, max, but this will just be an exercise.'

It had suddenly occurred to me that I still hadn't dealt with my hangover, which was gearing up again in such a way that it demanded immediate attention.

‘Sure, I'll have that to you on Monday?' I asked as cheerily as possible, standing up carefully to avoid any extra queasiness.

‘Perfect.' Kelly nodded. ‘Think about potential party favors, too. Oh, and Bette?'

‘Hmm?'

‘Do you have any plans to see Philip this weekend?'

‘Philip? Who's Philip?' I thought she was still talking about The List, but apparently we'd transitioned seamlessly back to my personal life.

‘Bette!' She giggled. ‘That gorgeous super-stud whose bed you occupied last night? You will be seeing him, right?'

‘Oh, right, Philip. It wasn't exactly like that, Kelly. It was more like—'

‘Oh, Bette, stop right there. You don't owe me any explanations at all. It's your life, you know,' she pointed out, apparently seeing no irony whatsoever in the statement. ‘I just hope you'll consider going out with him over the weekend, is all. Maybe have dinner at Matsuri or stop by Cain or Marquee?'

‘Uh, well, I'm not sure he'll call me, but if he does, then well, I guess—'

‘Oh, he'll call, Bette, he'll call. I'm glad to hear you're into the idea. Because frankly, you'd be crazy if you weren't! I'm headed out early today, so have a great weekend, okay?'

‘Sure. Will do. You, too, Kelly,' I said, inching closer to the door, still not really believing that I had just promised my boss I'd continue sleeping with a guy I hadn't slept with yet. ‘See you Monday.'

She picked up the phone, smiled, and gave me a thumbs-up. I beelined for my area, near Elisa, but was stopped several times on the way by people grinning at me in knowing ways or calling out ‘Nice work' or ‘Great work with Philip.' Elisa had gone out to lunch (read: a liter of Fiji water, a Baggie of baby carrots, and a half-dozen Marlboro Lights), according to a note she left on my computer, so I picked up the phone and called Penelope.

‘Hey, how are you?' she asked.

‘I'm fine. And you?' I responded in my detonation voice, so quiet and uptight that it gave the impression something might blow up at any second.

‘Great. Thanks for inviting me to dinner last night. It was, uh, really interesting.'

‘So you hated it?'

‘No! Bette, I didn't say anything like that. I didn't hate it at all. It was just, uh, different from what we usually do. Hope you don't mind that I bailed early, but I was exhausted. How was the rest of the night?'

‘Are you asking just to be polite or have you not seen the news today?' I mentally crossed my fingers that she hadn't heard.

‘Yeah, I'm just being nice. Avery forwarded it to me first thing this morning. It's taken every last ounce of willpower not to call you. I want the full play-by-play. Start with “When I met him at Bungalow he was wearing a black ribbed shirt and black pants with a thirty-four-inch inseam and he bought me a Stoli Vanilla and Sprite.” Proceed at that detail level, please.'

‘Pen, I can't really get into it here,' I said tersely, looking up to notice that half of my coworkers were pretending to stare at their screens while listening to me intently.

‘Bette! You can't be serious! You go and have sex with one of the hottest guys in the free world – Avery's always talking about how every female in Manhattan worships him – and you can't tell me about it?'

‘I didn't sleep with him!' I all but screamed into the phone. Skye and Leo – in addition to a few assistants – jerked their heads up and grinned at me in unison.

‘Whatever,' I heard someone else whisper.

Leo just rolled his eyes as if to say, ‘Oh, dear God, we're not all
that
stupid.'

And for a minute I was flattered. So what if it was slightly slutty to meet someone and sleep with him that very night? Better everyone considered it a
possibility
that Philip Weston would deign to have sex with me, I suppose, than just assume he'd taken me in for the night out of pity and a sense of obligation and spent as little time as possible actually
in
the bed I occupied.

‘Whoa,' Penelope was saying. ‘Touchy, touchy. Okay, so you didn't have sex with him. I believe you. The only question I have now is, why the hell
not
? I'm sure you don't need me to remind you of your recent celibacy. What are you holding out for? He's supposedly incredible!'

I finally laughed for what I realized was the first time all morning. Seriously, what was the big deal? If I wasn't going to get fired for my rather public indiscretion – and that certainly didn't seem to be an option – then why not just enjoy it?

‘I remember very little about what actually happened last night,' I whispered, placing my hand over the receiver, ‘but I'll tell you whatever I can dredge up when I get home tonight.'

‘Can't. Avery and I have dinner at his parents' house and I can't seem to talk him out of it. What about tomorrow night? Can we meet for a drink at the Black Door?'

‘I'd love to, but I'm meeting the book club for dinner and drinks. Little Italy, I think.'

She sighed. ‘Well, we should probably make a plan now for the weekend after next since I'm in St Louis for work the next two weeks. Are you around?'

It felt strange to have plans with people other than my book club, Will, or Penelope, but work had already begun to seep into my weekends, too. I checked my rapidly filling calendar. ‘Yeah, totally, I just promised Kelly that I'd go with our group from here to scout a new location for the
Playboy
party. It's still four months away, but everyone's already panicking. Want to come?'

Penelope hesitated. I could tell she wasn't into the idea, but she couldn't really say no since she'd already admitted to being free. ‘Uh, sure. That sounds great. We'll figure out the details this week. And of course, if you suddenly “remember” anything about last night, I'll take that, too.'

‘Bitch,' I shot back.

She just laughed.

‘You have fun with your future in-laws, you hear? Be sure to listen up when they tell you exactly how many grandchildren they want, broken down by gender and eye color. You do, after all, have certain obligations now. …'

It was good to hear her laughing again.