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Authors: Candace Bushnell

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #General

Trading Up (28 page)

BOOK: Trading Up
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“Is that so?” Janey remarked, thinking that Pippi’s vagina was probably the only part of her body that was still real.

“Mimi doesn’t understand,” Pippi said. “Things supposedly happen down there when you get older.”

“Meaning what?” Mimi demanded.

“You know. The lips. They . . . stretch,” Pippi said, screaming with laughter as she grabbed Janey’s arm. “Which means mine must be as wide as the Grand Canyon, considering all the men I’ve slept with.” 18947_ch01.qxd 4/14/03 11:23 PM Page 151

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“Oh, Pippi. That is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard,” Mimi said, pulling on her gloves. “Now you’ve got me completely freaked out. What if—someone—

looks down there and thinks that
I’m
old?”

“Are you talking about Zizi?” Pippi asked, covering her mouth as if she suddenly realized that she’d inadvertently let the cat out of the bag. “But of course he thinks you’re old,” she said. Her tact was about equal to her gait, which was awkward and clomping, as if she’d never quite mastered the art of wearing high heels.

Her unsteady walk, combined with her loud voice and the very fact that she was Pippi Maus, the actress, was beginning to attract attention on the street.

“Come on, Pippi,” Janey said, trying to smooth things over. “You don’t want to end up in the gossip columns again, do you?”

“I’m always in the gossip columns,” Pippi declared. “And I can state for a fact that they always lie.”

“Should we walk or take the car?” Mimi asked.

“The car,” Janey said firmly, assessing Pippi’s condition. She “loved” Pippi,

“adored” her, and even agreed with Mimi that Pippi was “hysterical.” But secretly she resented the fact that spending time with Pippi so often involved acting like a baby-sitter. Pippi gave in to all her impulses: She drank and took cocaine, and was given to wandering off—disappearing into a bathroom with a man she’d just met at a party or passing out under a table. Then everybody had to look for Pippi, and, having found her, minister to her emotional hysterias. She was as likely to be sobbing over some imagined slight as plotting a vicious revenge toward someone who had done her wrong. Janey would have gladly done without her at all, but as she was so often in Mimi’s company these days, she was unavoidable.

“Anyway, Mimi,” Pippi continued—when she was drunk or high, she became aggressive, and would keep hammering away at a point long after everyone else had lost interest—“You
are
twenty years older than he is, and have you ever been with a man who was twenty years older than
you
and
not
thought that he was disgustingly old?”

“Yes,” Janey said.

“But you like older men,” Pippi said, as if Janey didn’t count; and Janey said defensively, “Selden isn’t old.”

“He’s at least fifteen years older, if you’re not lying about your age . . .”

“Pippi!” Mimi said warningly, signaling to her car.

“Hey,” Pippi shrugged. “I lie about
my
age, not that I’m going to tell you guys the truth . . .”

“I know the truth,” Mimi said. “Remember darling, I’ve known you since you were ten years old . . .”

The black Mercedes slid up to the curb and Muhammad stepped out and 18947_ch01.qxd 4/14/03 11:23 PM Page 152

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opened the back door. “Thank you, Muhammad,” Mimi said pointedly. The three women got in, and the car crawled into the crush of holiday traffic on Fifth Avenue.

The ten-block ride would probably take a good fifteen minutes, but it was so glamorous, Janey thought, to be traveling in a chauffeured Mercedes, to be rich and swathed in fur coats, to be laughing and slightly drunk after a champagne lunch at one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants, to be beautiful and to have beautiful and famous friends, and to be on her way to a jewelry auction at Christie’s. She touched the window with her gloved finger, smiling at the perfection of it all. She had made the cover of the Victoria’s Secret Christmas catalog, wearing a diamond-encrusted bra and panty set, which had been delivered by an armored guard to the photography studio. And later, the guard had stood no farther than three feet away from her when she modeled the bra at the press conference. But the coup de grâce was the cover of
Maxim
magazine, on which she appeared in a black leather outfit that was little more than a few well-placed straps dotted with silver studs. The combination of the two covers—the good, angelic girl vs. the bad one—had generated an enormous amount of publicity; nearly every entertainment show had covered the story.

In the car next to her, Pippi began shifting uncomfortably, searching through her bag for a cigarette. “How is Selden, anyway?” she asked.

“We’re doing wonderfully,” Janey said firmly. This wasn’t completely true, but she wasn’t going to complain about Selden to Pippi. And ever since she’d appeared on the two covers, she and Selden seemed to have reached some kind of truce in their relationship, and Selden had hardly brought up Greenwich at all. Janey suspected that the excitement of seeing his wife on two magazine covers, and knowing that millions of men desired her, was probably behind Selden’s change in attitude, but she didn’t want to delve too deeply. Lately, Selden had been as compliant as a puppy, as willing to please as he had been when they’d first married, and when he occasionally did mention moving, she would sigh despondently and say, “I’d love to, but I’m so busy, what can I do?”

Mimi, however, was a different story. “Janey, did you call Brenda Lish yet? I promise you, if your marriage ends it’s going to be because you and Selden went crazy living in that hotel.”

Janey’s laugh tinkled as brightly as a small bell. “Selden’s hardly ever home anyway. And besides, he never notices his surroundings.” Pippi took a deep drag on her cigarette, and Janey, with some annoyance, pressed the button to open the window a crack. Cold air rushed in as Pippi said,

“Well, he certainly seemed to be noticing Wendy Piccolo at Dingo’s the other night, but I don’t get it. She’s so tiny you wouldn’t think anyone would even see her.” Janey’s lips were still curled into a smile, but her eyes were challenging. “What are you trying to say, Pippi?” she asked. “That Selden is having an affair?” 18947_ch01.qxd 4/14/03 11:23 PM Page 153

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“Of course he isn’t,” Mimi said firmly. “He’s only been married for three months. But if you don’t find a place of your own . . .”

“I know lots of men who slept with someone else the night before their wedding,” Pippi pressed on. “I even know a guy who stashed his mistress at the hotel next door when he was on his honeymoon.”

“That’s because the only people you know are actors,” Janey said.


I’m
an actor,” Pippi snapped, rising to defend her profession. Janey laughed, amused at her arrogance; no matter how much time they spent together in Mimi’s company, they would never really be friends. There was too much competition on Pippi’s side, which Janey found pathetic, especially as she didn’t consider herself and Pippi in the same league. “Her nose is just so . . .
pointy,
” Janey trilled to Mimi one afternoon. And Mimi said, “Oh, I know, but men find her sexy.” Janey, saying nothing, had smiled wisely—the only reason men found Pippi sexy was because she was so available for sex.

“Selden isn’t the type to have an affair anyway,” Mimi said firmly. “Believe me, Janey will have an affair before he does.”

For a moment, the reality of Mimi’s own affair with Zizi hung unspoken in the air, and then Janey said lightly, “I couldn’t imagine having an affair on Selden. But I suppose I’m lucky. I married a man I’m truly in love with.” This wasn’t, she knew, exactly the truth, for there were too many moments when he irritated her to fool herself about her feelings for him. But she’d said the line so many times—to reporters at press conferences and on the red carpet line, and to the people who congratulated her at parties—that by now it had become rote.

“Well, I didn’t!” Mimi said boldly, as if trying to convince herself that it wasn’t important.

“Come on, darling, you
do
love him,” Janey said.

“Love, but not
in
love,” Mimi said. She added briskly, “Let’s not talk about George.”

“Okay,” Pippi squeaked. “Let’s talk about Zizi. What are you going to buy him for Christmas?”

“A watch,” Mimi said. “All he ever talks about now is how much he wants a decent watch. And it’s true. If you’re a man in this town and every other man has a fifteen-thousand-dollar watch, you do feel left out.” The cruel streak in Janey wanted to giggle derisively, but she stopped herself by turning her face to the window and lifting her gloved knuckles to her lips. In the three months since Zizi had moved to New York, he had changed for the worse.

Janey had seen the scenario happen a million times: In the Hamptons, Zizi had appeared to be the master of correct behavior; he was always gracious and he didn’t fool around. But there weren’t as many temptations in the Hamptons as there were 18947_ch01.qxd 4/14/03 11:23 PM Page 154

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in the city, and in short order, Zizi had become notoriously well known on the club circuit, often partying until four in morning, and had developed a reputation for being a rogue. His looks made him irresistible to women—it was rumored that several tried their luck with him each night—and Patty had even told her that any girl who scored became a member of some secret “Zizi club.” If only Mimi would listen! Janey thought, with frustration. Time and again, she’d tried to hint to Mimi that Zizi wasn’t what he seemed, but Mimi merely seemed to take her suggestions as evidence that Janey was jealous. Which couldn’t have been farther from the truth: Every time Janey heard about one of his escapades, or saw him out with some bright young thing, she was relieved she had rejected him, which was how she told herself that things had happened with him.

Mimi still paid his rent though, and Janey guessed that given Zizi’s love of money, he would eventually meet a wealthy, eligible young girl whose family riches would entice him into marriage, and Mimi into insanity—Janey could almost imagine the perfectly mannered Mimi Kilroy foaming at the mouth . . .

As they passed Tiffany, where a line of eager tourists clamored to get inside, Janey chewed on the tip of her glove. She’d always prided herself on her ability to analyze a man’s true intentions and on the fact that she never lied to herself about what a man really wanted, and there was a part of her that had no patience for women like Mimi, who willfully deluded themselves about a man’s real intentions.

But now her friendship with Mimi demanded that she obscure the truth about Zizi as well, and she wondered what would happen when she could no longer lie . . .

“And what about Uncle George?” Pippi asked. Janey winced; she hated Pippi’s inappropriate familiarity with people, but Mimi hardly noticed. “Oh, I’ll buy him a pair of cuff links, I guess,” she said. “Something old and rare, maybe a platinum pair from Asprey’s; in any case, he’ll be happy as long as they’re one of a kind and nobody else has them.”

“Oh, I think George has excellent taste,” Janey said. Mimi gave a great whoop of laughter, and reached across Pippi to touch Janey’s hand. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on my husband, Janey, although I can’t think of a more perfect solution.

If you want him, you’re welcome to him, although I can’t imagine what anyone would do with
two
husbands . . . You’ll definitely have to learn to decorate, darling!” Mimi continued laughing and even Pippi joined in, and as the car pulled up to the curb and the three women got out, Janey felt her face redden. Ever since that afternoon at the apartment, George had been in the back of her mind—and when they ran into each other at dinners and parties, she was convinced that there was

“something” between them, although naturally, as there were always other people around, nothing whatsoever had happened.

“The truth is, I think George is a sweetheart,” Janey said primly.

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Mimi laughed again. “He’s the best, darling, there really is no question of that.

And I
do
adore him . . .”

But as they entered the auction house, Janey wondered how George would feel about those cuff links, in comparison to what he was going to give Mimi.

Two hours later at Christie’s auction house, Janey stood at the cashier’s desk, paying for a $50,000 black pearl necklace with Selden’s American Express card. She was still giddy with the excitement of having bid for the pearls and won, and in a bold hand scrawled “Janey Wilcox Rose” on the bottom of the credit card slip, deliberately avoiding looking at the total. With tax, it would be about $54,000, and though the auction house offered to send the pearls out of state in order to avoid the sales tax, Janey had just laughed and said that if Selden could afford $50,000, he could afford the tax.

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” Mimi said, scolding. “Men don’t mind spending money if it’s going to do something for them, but they hate spending money unnecessarily.”

“Just give him a blow job,” Pippi advised, “and he’ll forget all about it.” She waved and clomped off to a cab, her fox-fur coat swinging open to reveal heavy breasts straining against the thin fabric of a green cashmere sweater.

Taking Janey’s arm as they strolled to the curb, Mimi said, “You can’t pay attention to Pippi. She’s a sweet girl but she
is
jealous. Especially now that you’re doing so well, and her career is going nowhere. She nearly went crazy over that
Maxim
cover.”

“Exactly what
did
she say?” Janey asked.

“The usual. Just that she didn’t understand why they’d picked you for the cover of
Maxim
and not her.”

“But she hasn’t even been in a real movie for three years,” Janey protested. “And the last one went straight to video.”

“That doesn’t matter. She still thinks she’s as famous as she was ten years ago.

And being her friend, we allow her to think so.”

BOOK: Trading Up
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ads

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