B004183M70 EBOK (4 page)

"He was real nice," Gloria said,
one side of her mouth curving. "His regular makeup girl fell sick and
couldn't make it. Bobby cracked jokes with me the whole time and left me a big
tip. He's great."

"That's too bad about his makeup girl,
but at least you had a neat opportunity."

"Yeah." Gloria had turned her
attention to Suzie.

My gaze followed hers. To my horror, I saw
Suzie reach up and kiss Bradley right under the small, crescent-shaped scar
under his left eye. The scar I constantly wanted to trace with my finger.

Gloria grabbed my arm, forcing my attention
away from them. "Look, I know we just met, Bebe, but you seem like a
really nice person. Sweet, which is something you won't find much of in the
modeling biz. You said you love being a single girl in the city. Let me give
you some advice: Be a single girl in the city. Bradley Williams isn't the only
male around."

I couldn't speak.

Gloria shook her head. "A beautiful
girl like you— what are you, nineteen?"

"I'm twenty-two."

"You should be dating! Digging the
guys, having fun, going to nightclubs, shows, not pining over one man."

"Yes, you're right," I said,
wondering what it would be like going out on the town with a cute guy like the
young actor. Shoot, he was leaving with a group of Broadway stars. I didn't
think Bradley would be taking me on a date anytime soon.

"Uh-oh," Gloria said, pointing at
Pierre with her glass.

I saw a dark expression mar his face. With
obvious anger, he had finished greeting guests and noticed Suzie and Bradley
close together.

Luckily he was distracted by the arrival of
Frank Sinatra and his friends. My jaw dropped. Mama would have died
and gone to heaven had she been there.

Gloria was unimpressed. I supposed she'd
seen it all.

She persisted: "You think about what I
said, Bebe. Lots of men would find you attractive and want to take you out. But
you have this sign on your forehead that says, 'Taken.'"

"Do I?"

"Yeah. Stop thinking about Bradley so
much. You have to get out more— Oh, damn, I see Suzie motioning for me."
She fished in her purse. "We'll see each other at the agency. I'd love to
hang out with you, and help you meet some cool guys."

"Okay, Gloria. Maybe I'll see you
Saturday at the World's Fair." I put her card in my purse.

Then Gloria spoke from behind her hand.
"Oh, and Bebe, as far as killing Suzie goes, I think we'd have to stand in
line for the honor."

We shared a laugh; then I watched as she
quickly made her way to Suzie's side and they disappeared into a back room
together.

I thought I'd have a chance to talk to
Bradley, but Pierre snagged him. The tension between the two men was obvious,
as Pierre's hands balled into fists, while Bradley leaned against the wall
looking like a cat ready to spring.

A man I didn't recognize reached Pierre,
capturing his attention.

Bradley appeared as cool as ever when he
sauntered over to Lola's side. She giggled and smiled up at him.

Then I heard laughter coming from the
doorway. To my utter surprise, Darlene made a grand entrance, sexy red curls
shimmering even in the low light.

Attached to her arm was a handsome older
man, maybe in his early sixties, dressed in a black tux and wearing a black
Stetson.

My gaze was drawn to three things:
Darlene's big grin, her very low-cut black gown, and the impossible-
to-be-missed necklace glittering around her throat.

I glanced across the room to where her
boyfriend, Stu, eyed her with a wounded expression before turning away.

Darlene, still grinning from ear to ear,
began moving in my direction with her date. What had Darlene gotten herself
into this time?

CHAPTER THREE

"Bebe, honey! What a blast seeing you here,"
Darlene called out above the crowd, beaming, still holding the older man's arm.

Up close, I felt the need for shades, her
rhinestone—it couldn't be diamond—necklace was so alive with light. Made of
round stones, each the same size, the piece lit Darlene's face. That it drew
attention to her low-cut gown was not lost on some men in the room, who were
openly ogling petite but busty Darlene.

We managed to hug while she held on to her
date. I whispered furiously, "Just who is this guy? Stu's here. He'll be
mad. And how did you get into this party? Bradley gave me my invitation."

"We're crashing, honey. No one will
notice. And I'm finished with Stu," she announced with a pout.

"What! What happened?"

"Never mind, I'll tell you later.
Looks like you've got your own problems." Darlene shot a look to where
Lola was draped over Bradley like a tarantula. They stood away from Pierre, who
was talking to—and obviously brownnosing—Frank Sinatra. Darlene raised her
eyebrows at me.

In her Texas drawl, which always managed to
get attention in New York, she said, "Where are my manners? Bebe, let me
introduce you to Cole Woodruff. Cole owns a big oil refinery in Texas. I met
him on my flight from Los Angeles to Dallas. I had a little layover, and Cole was sweet enough to drive me down to his
ranch."

I shook hands with Cole. "Nice to meet you, Mr.
Woodruff."

Gosh, he was older than Daddy. He did have nice brown eyes
and a rugged look about him, but what was Darlene thinking? She already had
much younger, much better-looking Stu, heir to the Minty-Mouth Breath Mint
fortune, hanging on her every word, taking her on trips, buying her clothes,
and Lord knew what else.

"Please call me Cole, Miss Bennett. When Darlene had to
come back to New York, I wasn't about to let her go without me. She told me all
about you, saying you were another Southern belle. I see my lambkin was
right," he said.

Darlene giggled and snuggled against him.

Heat rose to my cheeks. "Cole, please call me Bebe. I
don't know what Darlene said, but I assure you none of it is true," I said
with a smile.

Cole's eyebrows rose. "Is that so? Well, now, maybe I'll
have two fillies on my arm tonight."

"I mean, everything Darlene told you is true," I
said hastily.

The three of us laughed.

"I can tell from your accent you're not from Texas like
Darlene," Cole said, as if it were a cardinal sin.

"No, Cole, I'm from Virginia."

"Never been there."

I didn't think Virginia's beaches, horse country, and
mountains would impress him, so I turned back to Darlene. "Darlene, that's
a striking rhinestone necklace. I've never seen you wear it before."

She looked up adoringly at Cole, touching the stones at her
throat. "Cole gave it to me, and they're diamonds."

I drew in a sharp breath.

Cole spoke as one instructing a student. "Now, Bebe, a
woman should always know the difference between rhinestones and diamonds.
Diamonds can cut glass. If a man gives you a diamond, you can make sure it's
real with that little tip. Darlene likes sparkly things, don't you,
lambkin?"

I stood with my mouth open. What had she done to make Cole
give her a diamond necklace?

I didn't want to know.

Darlene fluttered her lashes up at the older man and said,
"Not as much as I like you, Cole."

"See you around," Cole said to me, and led Darlene
away. I noticed he was bowlegged.

I felt queasy. In fact, I couldn't stay at Pierre's gala
another minute. Between Bradley and Suzie, and now Darlene and Grandpa—I mean
Cole—I'd had enough.

I looked around for Stu, remembering I wanted to say hello.
He was gone. Oh, Darlene, what have you done?

Before I left, I was determined that Bradley see me all
dressed up. Suzie was still in the back, and Bradley remained at Lola's side.

I walked up to them and said, "Excuse me, Mr. Williams.
I don't mean to interrupt, but I wanted to meet Lola, our most famous
model."

Lola turned unfocused eyes toward me. Now that I was in front
of them, I could see that Bradley had his left arm firmly around Lola's waist,
holding her upright. She was drunk.

"What a nice thing to say, Miss . . . ?"

"Miss Bennett, my executive secretary, who has a knack
for appearing precisely when I need her."

I stood with a neutral expression, while Bradley looked over
my bare arms and sophisticated hairstyle. When I dropped my clutch
purse—accidentally on purpose—and bent to retrieve it, I could feel his gaze
burn over my exposed back.

I stood up, giving him a demure smile. There was an expression
in his eyes I hadn't seen since that time he'd kissed me. Softly, he said,
"I like your hair better down."

Darn, it was hot in that room.

However, I wasn't going to let Bradley know the effect he had on me. "What can I do for you, Mr.
Williams?" Massage your back? Kiss you for an hour? Turn back your bed
covers and be waiting for you between the sheets? Oops!

Bradley cleared his throat. "Lola is
leaving, and I thought she could use some company on the taxi ride home,"
he said, tilting his head meaningfully at the inebriated model. He pulled some
money from his pocket and palmed it to me for the taxi.

"I'd love to accompany her," I
said.

Lola lurched forward. Between Bradley and
me, we managed to keep her upright while we edged toward the door. She said,
"I'm not that blitzed."

"Don't you have a meeting tomorrow
morning, Lola?" Bradley asked. "The one for your Breck Girl
contract."

She squinted her eyes. "Oh,
yeah."

"A girl needs her beauty rest, even
one as lovely as you," I said.

"Beauty rest, yeah. Let's go, Miss . .
."

"Call me Bebe," I said.

Bradley and I escorted her to the door,
acting as if nothing were amiss, even when Lola stumbled into a passing waiter,
sloshing champagne onto the white cloth covering his tray.

I smiled to further cover Lola's
embarrassment, not that she seemed humiliated.

The outside air hit us like a cold blast.
The temperature had dropped considerably while I was at the party, and goose
bumps rose on my exposed flesh.

Bradley hailed a taxi, then practically
inserted Lola into the backseat. "Move over for Miss Bennett, Lola."

While Lola struggled to gain her seat,
Bradley turned to me. The white of his shirt seemed very bright. "I
appreciate this, Miss Bennett. I hope you enjoyed the party."

"I did," I said casually, as if I
saw celebrities every day. "Thank you again for the invitation." I
wanted this moment to last, Bradley and I formally dressed against the backdrop of Manhattan. I imagined that we were
getting in the taxi together, off to dinner and a show. Thinking about it, I
wasn't cold anymore.

"Well, thanks, kid."

The temperature dropped again. Without
looking at him, I gracefully entered the taxi and slammed the door closed. I
kept my gaze straight ahead, though I knew he was still standing there.
"What address, Lola?"

"Sutton Place," she mumbled, her
hand on her stomach.

Hoping Lola wouldn't be sick, I gave the
taxi driver the location and asked him to drive slowly. I braced myself as we
sped away from the curb. I'm proud to say, I did not look back at Bradley.

I turned my attention to Lola, who was
slumped against the far door. "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged and lit a cigarette. "I'm
all right. I party a lot, and it never does any harm. I've got some pills for a
hangover."

Her slack face and signs of wrinkles under
her bloodshot eyes told me a different story. If she kept up this pace, she'd
soon have a hard time getting modeling gigs.

"Rest well, and I'm sure at the Breck
Girl meeting tomorrow they'll be handing you a pen to sign your new contract.
I've seen your ads, and they're beautiful," I said, trying to be
encouraging.

She sat up straight and blew out smoke.
"I'm gonna lose the contract."

"What do you mean?" I asked,
although Gloria had already hinted as much.

"That slutty bitch Suzie Wexford,
she's gonna get it. She's ruined my career. I hate her!" Lola's voice
poured out venom.

"Why do you say that?"

"Suzie's a clever schemer," Lola
said, turning in her seat to face me. "She followed me around, and she
learned where I had contracts. Then she'd show up at a shoot before I got
there, saying the agency sent her because I wasn't feeling well. By the time I'd arrived—so I
was a little late—Suzie would already be trying on the dress I was supposed to
model, her makeup artist, that New Jersey cow, in tow."

"How could she get away with that?
Wouldn't the client call Ryan to confirm that you were ill?"

"Oh, come on, get with it," Lola
scoffed, then took a long drag on her cigarette. "You've seen Suzie operate
firsthand. She's been hanging all over your boss since he took over the
company. Suzie always beds the president of the agency. She screws anyone she
thinks will make her more famous. If the client had called our old boss, Dirk
Snellings, Dirk would have confirmed anything Suzie said."