Everyone Worth Knowing (4 page)

as quickly as possible."

"No, this is Penelope's party, and I'm her friend. She asked me

to be here early, so it'd really be better if I could go in right now."

"Uh-huh, that's great. Listen, just step aside and—" He placed a

hand over his earpiece and appeared to listen intently, nodding his

head a few times and studying the line that now looped around

the corner.

"Okay, everyone," he announced, his voice causing immediate

silence among the barely dressed would-be partiers. "We're already

at capacity right now, as determined by the FDNY. We'll only be

letting people in as others leave, so either get comfortable or come

back later."

Groans all around.
Well, this simply isn't going to work,
I

thought.
He must not understand the situation.

"Excuse me? Sir?" He peered at me once again, now visibly annoyed.

"You've obviously got a lot of people waiting to go in, but

it's my friend's engagement party, and she really needs me there. If

you only knew her mother, then you'd understand how imperative

it is that I get inside."

"Mmm. Interesting. Look, I don't care if your friend Penelope's

marrying Prince William. There's no way I can let anyone else in right

now. We'd be in violation of the fire code, and you certainly don't

want that." He backed off a bit. "Just hang out in line and we'll get

you in as soon as possible, okay?" I think he was aiming for soothing,

but it only served to incense me more. He looked vaguely familiar, although

I wasn't sure why. His faded green T-shirt was tight enough to

show that he was quite capable of keeping people out if he so desired,

but the slightly baggy, faded jeans that hung low on his hips

suggested he didn't take himself too seriously. Just as I was conceding

that he had the best hair I'd ever seen on a guy—longish, dark, thick,

and annoyingly shiny—he shrugged on a gray corduroy jacket and

managed to look even cuter still.

Definitely a model. I restrained myself from announcing something

super-snotty about what a power trip this must be for someone

who most likely hadn't made it past seventh grade, and

skulked to the back of the line. As repeated attempts to call both

Penelope's and Avery's cell phones went straight to voice mail, and

the front-door goon was only allowing in an average of two people

every ten minutes, I stood there for the better part of an hour. I

was fantasizing about the many ways I could humiliate or otherwise

harm the bouncer when Michael and his girlfriend slinked

outside and lit cigarettes a few feet from the door.

"Michael!" I shrieked, aware of how absolutely pathetic I

sounded, but not really caring. "Michael, Megu, over here!"

They both looked over the hordes of people and spotted me,

which probably wasn't hard considering I was screaming and waving

with zero dignity. They waved me over, and I practically ran to them.

"I need to get inside already. I've been standing outside this

goddamn hellhole forever, and that guy won't let me in. Penelope's

going to kill me!"

"Hey, Bette, great to see you, too," Michael said, leaning over

to kiss my cheek.

"Sorry," I said, hugging first him and then his girlfriend, Megu,

the sweet Japanese med student with whom he now shared an

apartment. "How are you guys? How on earth did you both get out

for this?"

"It happens like once every six months." Megu smiled, taking

hold of Michael's hand and tucking it behind her back. "The schedule

just falls into alignment for one twelve-hour period when I'm

not on call and he's not at work."

"And you came here? What, are you crazy? Megu, you're a

really good sport. Michael, do you realize what a girl you have

here?"

"Sure do," he said, gazing at her adoringly. "She knows Penelope

would kill me, too, if we didn't make an appearance, but I

think we're out. I've got to be at work in, oh, let's see, four hours

now, and Megu was hoping to sleep for a full six-hour block of

time for the first time in a few weeks, so we're going to bail. It

looks like people are headed inside now."

I turned to see a massive exchange of gorgeous people: one

crowd surged outside, apparently on their way to a "real" party in

TriBeCa, and another seeped in through the door when the

bouncer lifted the velvet rope.

"I thought you said I was next on the list," I said flatly to the

bouncer.

"Feel free to visit Princess Penelope," he told me, sweeping expansively

with one arm and adjusting his earpiece to hear what I'm

sure was crucial information with the other.

"See, there you go," Michael said, pulling Megu out into the

street with him. "Call me this week and let's grab a drink. Bring

Penelope—I didn't get a chance to even talk to her tonight, and it's

been forever since we all caught up. Tell her I said good-bye." And

they were gone, undoubtedly thrilled they'd managed to escape.

I turned around and saw that there were only a few people loitering

on the sidewalk, talking on cell phones, apparently indifferent

to whether they went inside. Just like that, the crowd had

evaporated, and I was finally being granted entry.

"Gee, thanks. You were extraordinarily helpful," I said to the

bouncer, brushing past his massive frame and walking through the

velvet rope he held open. I yanked open the giant glass door and

stepped into a dark foyer, where Avery was talking very closely to

a very pretty girl with very big breasts.

"Hi, Bette, where have you been all night?" he said, immediately

moving toward me and offering to take my coat. In the same

second Penelope bounded over, looking flushed and then relieved.

She was wearing a short black cocktail dress topped with a se-

quined shrug and extraordinarily high-heeled silver sandals, and I

knew immediately that her mother had dressed her.

"Bette!" she hissed, grabbing my arm and leading me away

from Avery, who immediately resumed his intense conversation

with the girl. "What took you so long? I've been suffering alone all

night."

I raised my eyebrows and looked around. "Alone? There must

be two hundred people here. All these years, and I didn't know

you had two hundred friends. This is quite the party!"

"Yeah, really impressive, right? Exactly five of the people in this

room are here to see
me:
my mother, my brother, one of the girls

from the real-estate department, my father's secretary, and now

you. Megu and Michael left, right?" I nodded. "The rest are Avery's,

of course. And my mother's friends. Where have you been?" She

took a gulp of her drink and passed the glass to me with slightly

shaking hands, as though it were a pipe and not a champagne

flute.

"Honey, I've been here for over an hour, as promised. Had a

bit of trouble at the door."

"You didn't!" She looked horrified.

"I did. Very cute bouncer, but a total creep."

"Oh, Bette, I'm so sorry! Why didn't you call me?"

"I did, a few dozen times, but I guess you couldn't hear your

phone. Listen, don't worry about it. Tonight's your night, so try

and, well, uh, enjoy it?"

"Let's get you a drink," she said, pulling a cosmopolitan from a

circling waiter's tray. "Do you believe this party?"

"It's crazy. How long has your mother been planning this?"

"She read in Page Six weeks ago that Gisele and Leo were seen

'canoodling' here, so I guess she called and booked it right after

that. She keeps telling me that these are the kinds of places I

should be patronizing because of their 'exclusive clientele.' I didn't

tell her that the one time Avery dragged me here the clientele was

basically having sex on the dance floor."

"It probably would've only encouraged her more."

"True." A model-tall woman wedged herself between us and

began air-kissing Penelope in a manner so insincere I actually

cringed, gulped my cosmo, and sneaked away. I got pulled into

some inane conversation with a few people from the bank who'd

just arrived and who looked a little shell-shocked to be away from

their computers, and I chatted as briefly as possible with Penelope's

mother, who immediately referenced both the Chanel suit

and the heels she was wearing and then pulled Penelope by the

arm to another cache of people. I surveyed the designer-clad

crowd and tried not to shrink in my outfit, which had been purchased

online from a combination of J. Crew and Banana Republic

at three in the morning a few months ago. Will had been particularly

insistent lately that I needed "going out" clothes, but the catalog

orders were not what he had in mind. I got the feeling that any

of these people could—and would—feel perfectly comfortable

roaming around naked. Even better than the clothes (which were

perfect) was the confidence, and that came from somewhere else

entirely. Two hours and three cosmos later, certifiably tipsy, I was

considering going home. Instead, I grabbed another drink and

ducked outside.

The line to get in had cleared up entirely; only the bouncer

who'd held me in club purgatory for so long remained. I was

preparing my snide remarks should he address me in any way

whatsoever, but he just grinned and returned his attention to the

paperback he was reading, which looked like a matchbook in his

massive hands. Shame he was so cute—but jerks always are.

"So, what was it about me that you didn't like?" I couldn't help

myself. Five years in the city and I'd tried to avoid places with

doormen or velvet ropes unless absolutely necessary; I'd inherited

at least a bit of my parents' egalitarian self-righteousness—or intense

insecurity, depending on how you looked at it.

"Pardon?"

"I mean, when you wouldn't let me in before, even though it's

my best friend's engagement party."

He shook his head and half-smiled to himself. "Look, it's nothing

personal. They hand me a list and tell me to follow it and do

crowd control. If you're not on the list or you show up when a

hundred other people do, I have to keep you outside for a little

while. There's really nothing more to it."

"Sure." I'd all but missed my best friend's big night because of

his door policy. I teetered a bit and then hissed, "Nothing personal.

Right."

"You think I need
your
attitude tonight? I've got plenty of people

who are far more expert at giving me a really fucking hard

time, so why don't we just stop talking and I'll put you in a cab?"

Perhaps it was the fourth cosmo—liquid courage—but I wasn't

in the mood to deal with his condescending attitude, so I turned

on my too-chunky heels and yanked the door open. "I hardly need

your
charity. Thanks for nothing," I snapped and marched back inside

the club as soberly as I could manage.

I hugged Penelope, air-kissed Avery, and then beelined to the

door before anyone else could initiate any more small talk. I saw a