The limo ride back to the hotel was full of contention. Eloise was apoplectic at Helen’s behavior. Not to mention the fact that Jimbo had banged on the back window as they drove away. Once they’d gotten Helen outside on the sidewalk, Jimbo took it as an invitation to join them and Zadie had had to knee him in the groin to keep him from getting into their car. He kept screaming, “But I love her!”
“How do you think Grey would feel if I told him you were carrying on with some redneck in a bar?” Eloise asked. “He’d be crushed. You’re getting
married
, Helen. You can’t do things like that. You’re making a
commitment
. I thought you were the type of girl who understood that, but now I realize that I don’t know you at all and I’m worried that Grey doesn’t either.”
Helen stared at her. Her best ice queen look. “So, are you saying that you’re going to tell Grey what’s happened tonight? Because I thought the whole point of a bachelorette party was for the bachelorette to have fun. If you don’t agree with that, I’m wondering what you’re even doing here.”
Zadie had to hand it to her. Even drunk, Helen’s self-righteousness was strong enough to make anyone question the fact that they had criticized her.
“Why are
any
of you here if you don’t want me to have fun?” Helen demanded.
“We do want you to have fun,” Gilda said. “We just don’t want anything to happen.” She gave her a meaningful look to which Helen replied with a shrug.
Zadie decided to step in. “I think what Eloise is trying to say is that your idea of fun used to be yoga and tea, not dry-humping traveling salesmen.”
Helen gave Zadie her practiced look of superiority. “Should I be dry-humping teenagers? Would that make me a better person? Because God forbid, I’m not as good as Zadie.”
Okay …
Zadie wondered what she was supposed to say to refute this. “Fuck you, bitch” was the only thing that came to mind.
Luckily, Jane jumped in before she got it out. “No one’s judging you, Helen. We’re just trying to make sure no one takes advantage of you in your state.”
“What ‘state’?”
“You’re a little hammered,” Denise informed her. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”
“You know what? I’m drunk, too,” Betsy said. “And I kind of like it. I should really do this more often.” She poured herself more champagne. “Who’s up for next weekend?”
Before Zadie could feel proud for welcoming new converts into the world of a pleasant buzz, Skinny and Snotty brought up Trevor.
“Why didn’t you bring Trevor with us?” Snotty whined. “You hogged him all night and then just left him there.”
“That was really rude,” Skinny added.
“Maybe she had sex with him in the men’s room and she’s done with him,” Gilda said, trying to boost her in the eyes of the two most vile women in the world.
“Oh, my God, did you?” Eloise asked.
“No, I did not have sex with him,” Zadie said. She’d chosen Grey’s happiness over her own. She didn’t trust any of these
women to make sure Helen got to bed alone. Even Eloise. Helen was a cagey drunk. There was no telling what she’d do next.
“Why the hell not?” Jane asked.
“Timing,” she said, motioning with her head toward Helen.
Helen caught it. “Don’t blame me because you’re too chicken to have sex again.”
“I’m not
afraid
to have sex.”
“Have
you had sex since Jack?” Betsy asked.
“No. But that has nothing to do with anything. I just haven’t wanted to.”
“I never want to,” Marci said. “It’s too much trouble.”
“Marci!” Kim was appalled.
“Admit it, you’re in your flannel jammies, the kids are asleep, you’re nice and cozy in bed watching TV, the last thing you want is a big wet wad of semen dripping out of you for the rest of the night.”
Kim shrugged, admitting Marci had a point.
Denise looked at Zadie. “You looked like you wanted to when you were on the dance floor. Maybe it’s time, and you’re just too nervous to go through with it.”
“I completely agree,” Jane said.
Zadie looked at all the expectant faces staring at her, waiting for her to have a big sharing moment where she explained the contents of her psyche. This was the exact reason she’d avoided all of her female friends and hung out with no one but Grey for the past seven months. Men never wanted you to explain your feelings. Most of them openly discouraged it.
“Have I disappointed you all by not fucking Trevor? Tell Jerry to turn the car around. I’ll go back and do him on the bar so you can all watch.”
Gilda reached out and squeezed her hand. “That would be the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time.”
“You can’t have sex with one of your
students
,” Kim said.
“Excellent point, Kim. And whoops, here we are at the hotel.”
Jerry pulled up into the half-circle driveway of the Beverly Hills Hotel, the biggest pink building in Los Angeles. It sat on Sunset Boulevard in the midst of a residential area, making it seem even more incongruous a place for a limo full of drunken, sexually charged women to be disembarking.
“Can someone tell me why we’re at the hotel?” Helen asked.
“Because you’re going to bed,” Eloise said.
“My ass.”
Jane took over. “Why don’t we just go to the bar and have a drink?” She skillfully guided Helen out of the limo and up the walkway into the hotel. The valets and uniformed doormen all gave her a winking nod. As if they saw drunken brides being escorted in every night of the week.
Once they were all inside the door, they headed for the dark green, horse-themed Polo Lounge. Large leather booths and piano music were awaiting them. As well as an elderly European gentleman at the bar who seemed to know Jane.
“Jane, my love, I wasn’t expecting you tonight. I thought Cyndi was coming.”
Jane gave him a stiff smile. “Paolo. Hello. These are my friends. We’re having a bachelorette party.”
“Well, of course you are. Congratulations to the bride.”
“That’s me,” Helen said, prompting Paolo to kiss her hand.
Betsy stared him down. “How do you know Jane?”
“He flies to Dallas once a week,” Jane said.
“That’s right,” Paolo said, looking like he couldn’t come up with a reason to go to Texas if someone held a gun to his head.
Zadie frowned. An awful lot of people in hotels seemed to know Jane and fly on her airline. She squinted at Paolo. “What do you do in Texas?”
Paulo seemed to look to Jane for an answer, but then came up with one on his own. “Oil.”
Jane steered the group away from him into a large booth. She looked at the bartender. “Dani? Can we get some champagne?”
True, the bridal party was staying at this hotel, but did Jane
really have the time to get to know the bartender on a first-name basis? This was the first night of festivities. Something didn’t gel.
As they sat down at the table, Zadie looked over at the bar, where two beautiful twentyish women had just arrived with two paunchy middle-aged men trying to look younger by wearing acid-washed jeans. One of the girls was blond and looked like a slutty version of Cameron Diaz. The other one was black and had the best body Zadie had ever seen. They appeared to be having quite the lovefest with their ugly boyfriends. Kissing and cooing and hands on asses. The glaring realization that these women wouldn’t normally touch these men unless they were being paid hit Zadie full force as one of them looked over at Jane and gave her a nod.
Zadie turned to look at Jane. Jane nodded back.
Eloise took her glass from Dani’s tray. “I’m just going to pretend that nothing I saw tonight happened. I think in the light of day, we’ll all be back to normal and none of this will matter.”
“Speak for yourself,” Betsy said as she swilled more champagne. “I’m going to feel like hell tomorrow, but I don’t care. Do you realize I never once got drunk in college? What the hell was I thinking?”
“Helen’s never been drunk before
tonight
,” Denise reminded her.
“I’ve probably been drunk, like three hundred times,” Skinny said.
“Is that why you blow actors in parking lots?” Betsy asked, without a hint of malice.
“You know, I thought the champagne was helping you, but it’s not. You’re still a bitch,” Skinny retorted.
“Ladies, we’re all on the same page, no need to bicker,” Denise said, even though she was the only sober one. Even Marci and Kim were sipping champagne at this point. Which caused Marci to be more confessional than necessary.
“The last time I had sex was on our anniversary. It lasted about three minutes. Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?”
Jane shrugged. “Not if you don’t want to. I could teach you some tricks.”
As Jane was offering her expertise, Zadie noticed that Paolo’s “date” Cyndi had just shown up. The same bitchy girl they saw at the Mondrian earlier. The one waiting for her key.
Zadie kicked Gilda under the table. Gilda looked up at her and Zadie announced that she had to go to the bathroom. Gilda followed.
Once they were in the beige marble-floored bathroom, Zadie told Gilda what she was thinking. “Jane’s a call girl.”
“What?!”
“I don’t have any proof, but I have a pretty strong hunch.”
“I thought she said she was a flight attendant.”
“Well, she’s gotta tell people
something
, right?”
Gilda was baffled. “Why in the world do you think she’s a hooker?”
“She’s known someone in every hotel we’ve been to and Paolo acted like she’d shown up as his ‘date’ by mistake.”
Gilda couldn’t quite comprehend this. She was from Boulder, after all. Not a high call-girl-traffic area. Granted, Zadie was drunk and she’d read every trashy novel ever written, but she was pretty sure she had a good case. Right as she was about to point out that Cyndi was clearly a pro, the Cameron Diaz look-alike walked in to reapply her makeup.
Zadie took the opportunity to investigate. “Hi. How are you?”
Cameron’s clone turned around. “Fine, thanks.”
“You and your boyfriend are so cute. Where’d you meet?” Zadie asked.
The woman frowned, not sure where Zadie was going with this. “We met at a party. Last weekend.”
“Really? You’re so lucky. I bet it’s hard to meet a guy like him.”
The woman snapped her purse shut and blotted her lipstick. “Thanks. I’ll tell him you approve.” She gave Zadie a “fuck you” look and walked out.
Zadie looked at Gilda. “See?”
“See, what? You just pissed off some chick in the bathroom.”
“She’s a hooker.”
“She’s not a hooker, she’s beautiful!”
“You think guys pay to have sex with ugly women?”
Gilda thought this over. “That still doesn’t mean Jane’s a call girl.”
“Then how does she know Cyndi?”
“Who’s Cyndi?”
“The call girl that showed up for Paolo.”
“Paulo’s like—sixty.”
“Who exactly do you think it is that hires call girls? Trevor?”
Helen burst through the door. On a mission. “Hurry up, you two. The gay busboy just told us about a male strip club.”
They were back in the limo.
Zadie was beyond pissed.
She’d left Trevor to make sure Helen was safely tucked in bed, and now they were going out to see strippers? What the fuck? Her sacrifice was wasted.
“Why are we letting Helen out in public again?” Zadie demanded.
“I agree,” Gilda said. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“It’s a room full of gay men. How much trouble can she get in?” Denise said.
Zadie looked at Helen, who was now trying to revive Hans by blowing into his foot, which did not contain an outlet.
“Helen wants to see naked boy penis,” Helen said, now charmingly referring to herself in the third person.
“I
really
don’t think it’s a good idea,” Gilda said.
“As long as it’s gay penis, I don’t mind. She should probably see at least one before she sees Grey’s,” Eloise said. Much to Zadie’s repulsion. Was it the fact that Zadie was an only child that kept her from thinking it was okay to discuss your sibling’s genitals, or was it the fact that Eloise was a fucking freak?
Zadie looked at her watch and then at Marci and Kim, who had
opened another bottle of champagne. “I thought you two had to get home to your kids.”
“Screw our kids,” Marci said. “It’s about time our husbands did something useful.”
“Paying the mortgage doesn’t count,” Kim said. “I’m so sick of that argument. I gave birth, I raise the little shits, yet I’m treated like another goddamn bill to pay. Fuck him. If I want a juicer, I deserve a goddamn juicer.”
“Tim doesn’t flush. Have I mentioned that?” Marci asked. “He thinks he’s conserving water, but he’s not, because I follow him around and flush every time he leaves his piss sitting in the toilet bowl. Like I don’t have anything better to do.”
“Roger acts like I’m an idiot because I don’t check the price of gas before I fill up the Jeep,” Kim countered. “Why the hell would I check? I have to buy it anyway. Does it matter?”
Denise smiled at Helen. “See what you have to look forward to?”
“It’s physically impossible for a woman to live with a man and not find something to complain about,” Betsy said. “Barry leaves his mail everywhere. I find it in the laundry room. It’s like he reads a piece and sets it down, then reads another piece and sets it down somewhere else. If it hadn’t taken me so long to find him, I’d make him live in the garage.”
As the limo swung onto Santa Monica Boulevard, the women glued their faces to the windows. A fabulous array of handsome and buff gay men were promenading down the street. The kind of men they’d all followed around in college to no avail. Gaydar comes with age.
Betsy pointed to an immaculately groomed gay gentleman. “Look at him. I guarantee you he’s never left an envelope anywhere but the walnut table in his foyer.”
Jerry pulled up to a nondescript building that displayed only a neon address. “This is it. Have fun, ladies.”
Betsy turned to him. “Jerry, I hope you’re not judging us.”
“Not at all. I’d let my own wife come here. It’s not like she’s
gonna get lucky.” He laughed in that “you’re surrounded by homos” kind of way.
The women got out of the limo and filed in through the door, letting Jane pay the ridiculous cover charge.
Zadie brought up the rear. “Thanks, Jane. I’ll pay you back.”
Jane shrugged. “Don’t bother. I had a good month.”
A good month? How does a flight attendant have a “good month”?
As they walked down the dark hallway toward the room filled with loud disco music, Zadie noticed that Jane was carrying a crocodile Hermès bag. She’d heard Nancy going on about the very same bag at lunch one day and had somehow noted the needless fact that it cost five thousand dollars. If Zadie had been solving a crime, that purse would’ve been her proof.
Jane turned around and looked at her. “You coming?”
“Right behind you.”