Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Know (74 page)

‘Well, that little speech sounds all well and good, my dear, but you should've seen your face when he walked in with that model. I thought you'd die. You like him, don't you? Admit it.'

I didn't know how to say that of course something attracted me to him, but something simultaneously repelled me. I didn't want to say aloud how flattered I was that someone like Philip could want someone like me, even if he didn't seem to be all that great of a guy. I didn't want to explain the entire situation at work, how I suspected Elisa might be jealous that Philip was interested in me, or how Kelly had seemed ready and willing to whore me out to Philip because it meant good things for the business. I just shrugged and salted my omelet, making sure to fix my coffee cup to my lips so I wouldn't have to say anything just yet.

Penelope understood that I wasn't going to get into it then. It was the first and only time in the nearly nine years we'd been friends that I could remember both of us sitting at a table and willingly withholding information from each other. She'd refused to tell me her real feelings about her relationship with Avery; I'd taken a pass on commenting on Philip. We sat in a comfortable enough but foreign-feeling silence until she said, ‘I know I don't know the entire situation, and of course I know you're more than capable of handling everything yourself, but please, for me, just be careful? I'm sure Philip is a perfectly nice guy, but I've seen enough with Avery's friends and now your work friends to know that the whole scene just freaks me out. Nothing concrete, but I worry about you, you know?'

She placed her hand over mine and I knew we'd get back to our old selves at some point. In the meantime, we'd have to settle for thinking about each other from afar.

‘Okay, kids, quiet down,' Kelly announced as she tottered into the conference room in the high heels she wore every single day. ‘Did everyone have a chance to read their Dirt Alerts already?'

‘Sure did,' piped up Leo from the other end of the glass table that looked like it belonged more in a W hotel than in an office. ‘Seems like our favorite new staffer got herself another mention.'

I felt the familiar loopiness in my stomach begin its rounds. I'd been ten minutes late this morning and hadn't yet read the Dirt Alert, obviously a major misstep on my part. One of the assistants specifically got in every morning by six
A.M.
to create the day's Dirt Alert for all of us – a sort of survey of all the columns, papers, and stories that might, in some way, be related to our clients or industry – and place them on our desks by nine
A.M.
, but everyone generally scanned all the websites when they first got up in the morning, skimming quickly between Drudge, Page Six, Liz Smith, Rush & Molloy,
USA Today, Variety,
New York Scoop, an assortment of blogs and columns, and a few of the bigger trade headlines. It's best to know early if something bad happened and your phone was going to ring off the hook, so the Dirt Alert was more of a formality than any sort of breaking news. The only really relevant information we got each morning was the Celeb Alert, which included information on who's in town, why they're here, where they're staying (and under what name), and how to best contact them to bribe or beg them to attend an event. Four straight weeks of logging on to analyze every imaginable website within five seconds of waking up – supplemented by a professional report a few hours later – and the one day I wasn't fully informed of all the late-breaking gossip, of course, was the only one that mattered.

‘Um, I haven't had a chance to see it yet this morning. And besides, I can't imagine what could be in there, considering I was checking out Sanctuary this weekend – with all of you – right up until I went home. Alone,' I added quickly, as though I owed my coworkers this explanation.

‘Well, let's see here,' Kelly said, picking up a printout of the online column. ‘‘New Kelly & Company employee seems determined to fit in with her hard-partying coworkers. Sources say the event planner's unnamed new girl – supposedly scoping out Sanctuary on Saturday night as a potential venue for the ultra hush-hush
Playboy
party – mixed business and pleasure when she left with Philip Weston and an unidentified model. Their final destination? We have our ideas.' …' Kelly let the last words trail off and turned to grin at me.

I felt myself turn crimson.

‘What, exactly, is it implying? Because so far I haven't heard one remotely true statement. And who the hell wrote that?'

‘Ellie Insider, of course. There's a picture of you climbing into the cab with Philip and this absolutely gorgeous girl, so I guess it's not hard to figure out what she's suggesting. …' Kelly continued smiling. She looked like she couldn't be any happier.

Was it utterly bizarre to be discussing this in our weekly staff meeting, called today supposedly to discuss work events?

‘Kelly, I'm really sorry for any impact any of this stuff has had on you or the company. Honestly, I don't know why anyone would care, but in all seriousness, it's just not happening like—'

‘‘The newest It Girl, an associate at Kelly & Company.' Do you realize how huge that is? Hopefully next time they'll use your name. They probably just couldn't confirm it in time since you're not on the industry roster yet.'

I noticed Elisa was having trouble smiling.

‘Not only that, but it says the rest of us are hard-partying,' Leo chimed in proudly.

‘And it plugs the
Playboy
party!' Skye added.

‘I just don't know who would give them that information,' I muttered. ‘It's not even true.'

‘Bette, honey, I don't care if it's true, I just care that it's being covered. You've done wonderful things for the team in the short amount of time you've been with us. Plus, Danny will be thrilled about the plug for the club. Keep up the good work.' And with that, we moved on to one of Kelly's specialty brainstorming sessions.

‘Okay, everyone, start talking. We've got the premiere for
Shrek 3
next month. Invites need to be out within two weeks. Skye's in charge of this one. What's the enticement?'

‘I still don't understand why we agreed to do a premiere for a kids' movie,' Skye whined, which I noticed she did a lot at meetings. ‘Why can't the studio handle their own premiere for that one?'

‘That was a rhetorical question, right? We do premieres because they're easy and pay well. You know DreamWorks has their own internal PR, but as you also know, they're tied up with all the awards shows and bigger pictures' publicity, and besides, virtually all of the important press is in New York. We have relationships with people they don't.'

‘I know, I know.' Skye sighed in a very unteamlike way. I saw Elisa shoot her a look, and she sat up a little bit straighter. ‘It's just that kids' movies are so boring.'

‘Well, Skye, if you're not interested in overseeing this, I'm sure Elisa or Leo or Bette or even Brandon wouldn't mind stepping in. I don't think I need to point out just how many celebs are having kids these days … Liv, Courteney, Gwyneth, Sarah Jessica, just to name a few. I hope you're not saying that their children are boring.'

‘No, of course not. You can count on me – I'm up for it. We've done a dozen of these. Okay. Does anyone have the report on the
Harry Potter
premiere we did over the summer?'

‘Yep, right here,' Leo said, pulling a stapled packet from a folder. ‘Sunday afternoon in August, at Christie Brinkley's estate in Bridgehampton. Party started at eleven
A.M.
, with the screening from twelve to one-thirty to allow everyone enough time to get back to the city. Children's entertainment included wading pools filled with ice and juice packs, horseback riding, a small petting zoo, a cotton-candy machine, a sno-cone maker, a few roving clowns. Adults were kept amused by highly attentive and attractive cocktail waitresses serving socially acceptable day drinks from a hidden bar inside – mostly mimosas, Bloody Marys, screwdrivers, champagne, margaritas, sangria, and the occasional frozen daiquiri or piña colada if requested. Matt Lauer, Susan Sarandon, Katie Couric, Aerin Lauder, Kate Hudson, Russell Simmons, and Courteney Cox all had children in attendance, in addition to hundreds of others who were slightly less recognizable but just as photogenic. Pics appeared in
People, US Weekly, Star,
Sunday Styles,
Gotham, W,
and a dozen online social pages, including but not limited to the New York Social Diary and Patrick McMullen's website. Warner Brothers was thrilled.'

‘Okay, kids, so we've got the template, and we obviously know what works. Clearly we won't be in the Hamptons, but we should stick with the same format. I like the Clearview in Chelsea because they're pretty relaxed about having lots of action in their lobby,' Kelly said, efficiently checking things off a list. ‘What else?'

‘Well, for food, the usual kid favorites,' Elisa said. ‘Pigs in blankets, quarter-sized burgers, candy hunts.'

‘Make your own sundae,' Leo added without pause.

‘Balloons, magicians, design your own cupcake, bubble machines,' Skye said without the least bit of enthusiasm.

‘Guy in a monster Shrek outfit.'

‘Face-painting the kids green.'

‘Parents hate face-painting. Plenty of other stuff you can do. Maybe those mini-trampolines?'

‘Are you kidding? Total liability. Might as well just have “Sue Me” in lights. Speaking of which, how about “Shrek” spelled out in a massive wall of green lightbulbs?'

Everyone nodded. I started to get slightly self-conscious about not having contributed anything, but I'd never been to a movie premiere and didn't know anything about them besides stars walking down the red carpet.

‘What if we have a green carpet instead of a red one?' I offered before considering how stupid it sounded. I braced myself, but the faces at the table looked fairly happy.

‘Fab idea, Bette! We'll have a green carpet and a giant green walk-and-repeat at the end where everyone can get photographed. Green carpet should definitely mean more pictures. Things sound like they're going smoothly there, so let's move on to what really matters. Where are we with the
Playboy
party?'

The color had returned to Elisa's face, and she appeared more composed. She stood with perfect posture in her Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress and pointed to the bulletin board with her Mason Pearson brush.

‘As you can all see, we are just a few months away. After much scouting and debating, we have selected Sanctuary as our location. Leo, can you update us on the logistics?'

Leo looked at Elisa as if to say ‘Since when am I answering to you?' but then cleared his throat and told the room he was interviewing production companies (who would handle everything from furniture to lighting) and should have the shortlist by the end of the week. ‘I'm sure we'll end up with Bureau Betak,' he said. ‘We always do.'

The meeting continued for another hour and a half (we covered gift bags, potential sponsors, and invitations) before we were released for lunch with the encouragement to go somewhere we'd ‘see or be seen.' I begged out of going to Pastis with the group and roamed a few blocks east to a divey pizza joint where I surely wouldn't run into anyone from the office. As soon as I had wedged my body into a tiny booth near the restroom, I called Will at work and was surprised to find him at his desk.

‘Why are you there?' I asked. ‘It's not even deadline day.' Will only went to his office at the paper once or twice a week, less if he could help it.

‘Hello, darling. I'm struggling a bit with this week's column.' He was quiet for a split second before adding, ‘Lately, it seems I'm struggling a bit with
every
week's column.'

He sounded frustrated and resigned at the same time, two sentiments I wasn't accustomed to hearing from Will.

‘Are you okay, Will? What's going on there?' I asked, forcing myself to forget my own problems for just a few seconds.

He sighed heavily. ‘Nothing interesting, darling, that's for sure. Readership of “Will of the People” is way down this year. Another few papers dropped it from syndication. My new thirty-one-year-old editor has no sense of humor – keeps telling me that “today's readers” are more “socially sensitive” and that therefore I should strive to be more “politically correct.” Naturally, I told him to fuck off, but he won't stay quiet for long. Then again, why would anyone want to read my column when they can read about pretty young party planners gallivanting about with rich, famous pretty boys?'

I felt like I'd been punched. ‘You saw.'

‘Naturally. Am I to assume there was any truth to that tawdry little write-up?' he asked.

‘Of course not!' I wailed loud enough to cause the cashier to turn and glare at me. ‘I saw Philip at Sanctuary this weekend, when I was there for work. We shared a cab home because it was less complicated. The other girl was his family friend. Childhood family friend. The whole thing could not have been less scandalous.'

‘Well, then, it seems this Ellie Insider character is doing her job splendidly. Take comfort in the fact that they didn't use your name, darling. But don't think for a minute that it won't come soon.'

‘Do you know who she is, Will? I mean, you must have met her somewhere along the line, don't you think?'

I heard Will chuckle and imagined the worst. ‘Well, I've certainly heard lots of names bandied about, but there are no solid leads. Some people insist it's some socialite ratting out all her friends. Others seem to think it's an unknown with a few well-placed sources. For all we know, it could be that ex–fashion editor – oh, what was her name? The one who keeps busy penning nasty book reviews? I could see her writing trash like this.'