Barefoot Girls (37 page)

“Aw, I wish it was tomorrow night now. I can’t wait.” She couldn’t keep the whining sound out of her voice. She was disappointed. Her day had been hard, horrible really, and she’d been looking forward to cuddling up with her burly Jewish teddy bear. It was funny how he could be so tough in business, ruthless really, yet so tender with her.

He smiled encouragingly at her. “Do you want me to order your favorite Chinese for you?”

She bounced a little on her toes. “Yes, please! Oh, wait…no.” She slumped a little. She hated how much weight she’d gained and she had to start somewhere. General Tsao’s chicken, deep fried and swimming in that delicious sticky spicy sauce, wasn’t going to help. Oh, and those crispy spring rolls she loved. Her mouth watered. “No, I’m just going to have a salad tonight.”

“A salad? That doesn’t sound like you. You’re my meat-and-potatoes girl,” he squinted at her as he leaned down to pick up the briefcase he’d abandoned to hug her.

“Well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I can barely fit into my clothes and I’m not buying a whole new wardrobe.”

He made a tsking sound. “You’re beautiful just the way you are. You’re perfect.”

She smiled and sighed happily. He really meant it; that was the thing. “Thank you, honey. You’re my sweetheart.”

“I better get to work before the siren call of the bourbon gets me. I promise I’ll come to bed at a reasonable hour.”

He kissed her again and just as he turned to go, she remembered. “Oh, honey? Before you disappear into that black hole that is your study, there’s just one thing.”

He turned back to her. “Your wish is my command, fair lady.”

“I don’t know, but, I was at that committee meeting today? And well, they were hoping for Susan, as you know.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. She’s a busy lady.”

“Is there anyone else? Anyone? It’s just, they were really hoping.”

He squinted and looked away, thinking. “Um….”

“But it can’t be anything modern, like rap. They’re into classical stuff.”

He looked up, brightening. “Now, that’s an idea.”

“What?”

“How does Mario Costa sound?”

“That new hot tenor guy? Wow! They would go crazy for him!” She started bouncing again on her toes. It was going to happen, she could just feel it!

“I’d have to ask him, but we have met, a few years ago. Before I met you. He wasn’t hot yet, then, but he was great, heard him sing at a little benefit in a church in Connecticut. We ended up talking at the cocktail party afterwards. He’d probably remember me. Or, maybe not. But, hey, it’s worth trying.”

“Oh, goody! I can’t wait to tell them!” She felt bubbles of giddy joy whirl upward through her.

“Now, wait,” he said, lowering his head and making a cutting side to side motion with his hand. “I haven’t even talked to him yet. Don’t say a word until I do. We probably shouldn’t have said anything about Susan either.”

She fell back hard on her heels. “I didn’t! Brooke was the one who brought Susan up. Oh, and she called her ‘Susan’ all the time, like she knew her. That burned me up.”

“Maybe Brooke does know her. She knows practically everyone else.”

“She doesn’t know her. That was why she needed me, I mean, you, to get her to sing at the benefit. That’s why I’m on that committee.”

He put his briefcase back down and walked over to her, taking her gently by the shoulders and looking into her eyes. “That’s not why. You wanna know why? She couldn’t resist you. No one can. And they’re lucky to have you.”

She looked into his eyes. He really believed it. She wished she could. But she wouldn’t argue with him. “Okay, you’re right. And I’ll wait. Just please, please tell me when you know. Oh, and we need to fill at least four or five tables, too.”

He let out a little puff of laughter. “Boy, they’re really cracking the whip, huh? Well, I’m sure we can shake down enough people to fill those tables between the two of us. Have you invited your friends?”

She shook her head. He would never understand the Barefooters, never even called them that. They were just ‘friends’ to him. To her, they were family. And no, they would hate hate hate an uptight charity thing like this. A tacky redneck barbecue featuring a tractor pull? A wild half-nude pool party? A booze cruise and dancing to a live rock-and-roll band? Sign them up! But a stiff fake aristocratic-type crowd was exactly
not
their cup of tea.

“Why not? They’d do it for you. They’d do anything for you.”

“You’re right, and that’s ‘cause I’m reasonable when I ask them to do stuff. All right, I’ve kept you long enough. Run along now and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves me a lot of leeway,” he said, grinning at their old joke. He backed up and picked up his briefcase again. “See you in bed. And you better be naked.”

“Aren’t I always?” She smiled at him and watched him go, watching until the door of his study latched behind him.

“Damn,” she muttered, approaching the restaurant on foot, arriving too early once again. She thought about passing it and walking a couple blocks up Fifth Avenue to Bergdorf’s and back to kill time, but the wind was cold in the shadows on this side of the street, although the day was bright and blue. She wanted to be inside, warm and comfortably sitting on one of the soft black leather chairs, a crisp linen napkin in her lap. For once, she wouldn’t have to suffer silently as she sat in that torture chair in Brooke’s library.

She wished she could be truly at ease, that what she had to say was what they wanted to hear. If only she had heeded Ben’s words and not called Brooke to tell her. If only she’d been able to tamp down those bubbles of enthusiasm rising higher and higher and making her so excited she couldn’t control herself. She’d even told herself she should hang up while she was dialing Brooke’s number. And yet, she’d let the call go through. And, news imparted, Brooke’s excitement had been so satisfying, utterly deeply worth it in that moment.

She knew now that she’d been seduced by the promise of Brooke’s friendship and the doors it had and would open. She’d fooled herself that, somehow, she’d changed. She was more sophisticated now. Ben’s world of money and influence would be hers as well. Even Pam’s, and then Zo’s and Amy’s, recent phone calls had gone unreturned. She would talk to the Barefooters later. They probably only wanted to nag her again to forgive Hannah, which she would do when she was good and ready. Right now she was busy becoming…what, she wasn’t sure. But it would be important. After all, she’d been invited to be on the committee of committees, handmaiden and right hand to the Queen herself. She flushed with embarrassment, just thinking about her delusions of grandeur and made a mental note to call the Barefooters back soon.

Well, at least she’d had time to shop for an outfit that fit her. She couldn’t be seen again, only three days later, in those same fat-pants, and she had nothing else that fit now. The saleswoman at Saks had found the perfect choice – a charcoal gray wrap-dress that hid the extra pounds perfectly and was in a casual enough knit to be appropriate for lunch. Surveying her reflection in the gold-framed glass door of Cocotte Jolie as she approached the entrance, she was gratified to see that at least she looked good. She lifted her chin up a little. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she was making a big deal out of nothing.

It was when the host seated her at a table set for three that she realized that, of course, Tatiana had been invited too. Keeley had been prepared to see Brooke and be on the receiving end of her disappointment. She had not been prepared for two angry sets of eyes and two sharp tongues. Why she hadn’t considered it a possibility, she didn’t know. Of course they would be here together. It was the pair of them that ran everything, and everyone else was their minion.

She slid into the chair the host pulled out for her, sliding a little too far on the leather seat and having to right herself quickly. She made herself sit up very straight. She would do this with poise. She would not lose her nerve. She would not grovel.

“Good afternoon. May I get you something to drink?”

She looked up at him, saw his eyes traveling away already. “No, water would be fine.”

He bowed slightly. “As you wish.”

A heavyset smiling redhead, whose apron barely tied around her round stomach, came to fill their glasses with ice water.

“Thank you,” Keeley said, gratefully reaching for the just-filled glass, the ice making a merry tinkling sound as she raised it. Her mouth was a dusty desert.

“You’re very welcome!” The redhead said, smiling even more widely at Keeley.

Keeley suddenly wanted to talk to this woman, not the two that would be arriving in a five minutes. She wanted to slide out of this slippery chair and drag her out of this place to go find a dive bar somewhere with a jukebox, to drink shots together and talk openly. She was probably fun, this one, with her ready genuine dimpling smile and round generous stomach. Keeley could make jokes about these two uptight bitches and this redhead would probably throw her head back to laugh, knowing the type well. In fact, she probably had plenty of stories of her own about the entitled elite that perched on these chairs.

Instead, the redhead retreated with her water pitcher and Keeley sat by herself trying to enjoy the comfort she thought she’d feel once she was seated in the restaurant, the sweeping second-hand on her Rolex moving too slowly. She looked back down at her watch. She probably shouldn’t have worn it. It was too glitzy with its diamond-encircled ebony face, nothing as simple and perfect as what the other two women would be wearing. She silently apologized to Ben for hiding his wonderful gift while she slipped the watch off and put it in her black Kelly handbag. As she straightened she saw Brooke and Tatiana at the host’s podium. They were laughing a little about something and continued chuckling as they were led to the table where Keeley was sitting. Keeley rose to greet them.

“There you are! So good to see you!” Brooke called, putting one arm lightly around Keeley’s shoulders, barely touching her, and touched her cheek to Keeley’s. It was the most enthusiastic greeting she had ever given Keeley.

“Yes! Our savior!” Tatiana enthused. She also pressed cheeks with Keeley after Brooke.

Keeley felt as if she was about to pop the balloon of delighted young child. She half-smiled at them and sat back down.

“Well, this is very nice, Keeley,” Brooke said, looking around. “I’ve never been here, but I’ve heard some good things. And they were so quick to accommodate us when I called to make the reservation.”

“Oh! I thought, well, it’s so close to your apartment, it seemed like this would be your favorite,” Keeley said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She should have ignored Brooke’s disclaimer about not caring where they went and let her choose the restaurant.

Tatiana looked around as well, nodding. “I haven’t been here before either. Very art deco. The food’s supposed to be hit or miss.”

“Tourists and foreigners love this place,” Brooke said, sotto voce, nodding her head subtley to the table on their right and then the one on their left.

Keeley, who had thought the restaurant utterly chic when she’d been there for dinner with Ben and a visiting business associate a few months before, looked at the other tables. To their left, two enormous women with mustaches were slurping up their soup, faces low over their bowls, pamphlets from the Met piled on the table and shopping bags clustered at their feet. They were wearing stonewashed mommy jeans with elastic waistbands and lumpy cheap sweaters. To their right, three Japanese men were speaking in low voices, dressed in slim dark-colored suits.

She had gotten it wrong. Again. It was hopeless. She picked up her menu and focused intently on it. She wasn’t ready to tell them yet. Brooke and Tatiana started complaining to each other about the decorations committee and the group’s “lack of vision”.

“We need something fresh! Something no one’s ever seen. All I’m asking for is a few decent ideas,” Brooke said.

“With that group? I highly doubt it. We’ll have to do it ourselves,” Tatiana said, shaking her head sorrowfully.

Keeley furrowed her brow while she continued to make a show of studying the menu. How could anyone be so egotistical? And they were both like that.

The waiter came and took their drink orders: club soda with lime for both queen bees. Keeley shook her head and pointed at her water. What she really wanted, what she needed, was a glass of wine. Then telling them would be easy. The words would just pop out. Then it would be over, at least the telling would be. And the wine would numb her to their reaction, too. God, she wanted it.

She pressed her lips together, and forced her mind back to the task of finding the right thing to order on the menu, not what she wanted: a juicy burger. They even had one, the Cocotte Jolie Burger. As she stared at all the choices, so many of them sounding ideal, they swam in front of her. She put her menu down. Simple, just get whatever Brooke was getting. Even if she hated it, it would be “right”. For once.

The waiter came to take their order. Keeley nodded at the others to order first. Both of them ordered the restaurant’s signature salad with chicken, egg and cashews.

“The same,” Keeley said, smiling up at the waiter as she handed him her menu.