Read the Overnight Socialite Online
Authors: Bridie Clark
the Overnight Socialite (20 page)
"Excuse me," he said. He unlatched himself from Cornelia and strode off toward the bar.
She froze. Cornelia Rockman had never been abandoned on a dance floor. She had certainly never been abandoned for another girl. If the band was still playing, Cornelia couldn't hear the music--she was deafened by her inner scream. She watched with incredulous revulsion as Wyatt eased Lucy away from Max and started to hustle her outside. Then she felt every other couple on the dance floor notice that she was alone, the still point in their turning universe.
"Exactly where you want him?" asked Leslie Reynolds, who happened to be dancing with Jackson a few feet away.
Cornelia went stiff with rage. "Twins run in your family?" she countered. Then, fuming and humiliated, she charged off the dance floor.
"I think we should dance!" Lucy said, leaning into Wyatt as he swept her past the dining tables toward an outside door. She twisted away from Wyatt's grip and busted out her best disco strut in the middle of the crowded room.
"We're going to get some fresh air," Wyatt repeated.
"Are you upset about something?"
Without another word he herded her out into the hall and down the steps into the humidity, then past the valet area where some older guests were already lining up to go home.
"Uh-oh, Wyatt is
unhappy
!" she said, giggling--and then shut up when she saw the hard angle of Wyatt's jaw. "What's the matter? I'm just having fun." What a killjoy. He might be irritated, but she was having, bar none, the best night of her life! Five glasses of champagne had washed away the sting of Cornelia's rudeness and filled the party with instant best friends. How had she ever thought of these good folks as snobby? And then there was Max, who'd come right up to her after dinner while Wyatt was off having one of his cigarettes. They'd been doing tequila shots and cracking each other up ever since. Max was telling her about how the bride had pulled him into the coat closet just weeks before and tried to mack with him. Now it seemed kind of sad--but the way Max told it made her want to bust a gut. Anyway, she was just thrilled to have made another friend. Eloise, Trip, and now Max. Her circle was rapidly expanding!
unhappy
!" she said, giggling--and then shut up when she saw the hard angle of Wyatt's jaw. "What's the matter? I'm just having fun." What a killjoy. He might be irritated, but she was having, bar none, the best night of her life! Five glasses of champagne had washed away the sting of Cornelia's rudeness and filled the party with instant best friends. How had she ever thought of these good folks as snobby? And then there was Max, who'd come right up to her after dinner while Wyatt was off having one of his cigarettes. They'd been doing tequila shots and cracking each other up ever since. Max was telling her about how the bride had pulled him into the coat closet just weeks before and tried to mack with him. Now it seemed kind of sad--but the way Max told it made her want to bust a gut. Anyway, she was just thrilled to have made another friend. Eloise, Trip, and now Max. Her circle was rapidly expanding!
"Will you stop weaving like that? You're making a fool of yourself!"
"I'm tipsy. There was barely any food on the plates!" Lucy cupped her hands around her mouth and pressed against his ear. "I guess they had to cut corners somewhere--"
"Daniel Boulud catered. What did you expect, the all-you-can-eat buffet at Sizzler?"
That seemed a little harsh, but she wouldn't let it spoil her mood. "So I got a little carried away. Max kept--"
"Right. You got carried away by Max Fairchild."
"What? Max is a nice guy. Oops--" She would've tripped on the curb if Wyatt hadn't grabbed her arm in time.
"You're not right for each other." Wyatt pulled a cigarette from the breast pocket of his tux.
"You said you'd stop!" Then his statement pierced through her haze. "Why aren't Max and I right for each other? Because he was born into some fancy family and I wasn't? Not everyone sees the world that way." Without warning, hot tears sprang to her eyes. Why had Wyatt spent weeks building her up, making her believe she could fly in this crazy world of his--only to trash her when she did?
"Relax! Relax." Wyatt met her eyes for an instant, then looked away. "I meant,
you
could do better. Max is fine, but I see you with someone more dynamic."
you
could do better. Max is fine, but I see you with someone more dynamic."
Lucy's spirits lifted as quickly as they'd dropped. Wyatt cared about whom she dated? It was the first glimmer that he saw her as more than a vehicle for winning his bet with Trip. "I'm flattered," she said.
"Yeah, well--I see how hard you're willing to work. And I know that you help your mother financially. It's admirable. You've turned out to be a much finer person than I'd originally judged."
"Thank you," she said, touched by the rare praise. They endured a strangely uncomfortable moment of silence before Wyatt found more words. "We should go back inside so I can introduce you to people. Don't lose sight of tonight's mission: it's your chance to connect with the who's who of society. Maybe they'll even want to buy a dress from you someday. Are you feeling a little clearer?"
"Yes, thanks," Lucy said. She straightened her dress. "Do I look okay?"
Wyatt lifted a stray piece of hair from her face, grazing her cheek. She inhaled sharply at the unexpected touch, and he retracted his hand as though he'd been burned. "Perfectly fine," he said crisply.
18
Wyatt's Book Notes:There's a ritualized behavior that primatologists call "lip-smacking." Monkeys and apes are known to "lip-smack" potential rivals as a disarming gesture, putting them at ease before stabbing them in the back. Not unlike the socialite who air kisses her rival with feigned warmth, then blackballs her membership at the Colony Club.
C
ornelia waited impatiently for her PowerBook to boot up. She'd locked the door of her Old Hollywood-inspired office, decorated in dusty rose and high-gloss white, so that her nosy staff wouldn't wander in and find her incongruously seated in front of the skin-ravaging computer. Getting some dirt on her rival would be worth the extra Botox. Cornelia carefully hunt-and-pecked "Google." Then "Lucia Haverford Ellis." The screen loaded so quickly that Cornelia gasped. Twelve thousand four hundred mentions. She clicked on Rexnew-house. com and scanned the puff profile he'd written the month before.
Timber family. Miss Dillard's School. Fashion aspirations
. Nothing she didn't know already. There was Lucy at Save Venice, Lucy at the Explorers Club for a book launch, Lucy at a dinner party hosted by Leslie Reynolds just last night--they must have exchanged contact info at the wedding. All the mentions had occurred within the month of January, which only fueled Cornelia's gnawing question: Where had this girl been before she was suddenly
everywhere
?
ornelia waited impatiently for her PowerBook to boot up. She'd locked the door of her Old Hollywood-inspired office, decorated in dusty rose and high-gloss white, so that her nosy staff wouldn't wander in and find her incongruously seated in front of the skin-ravaging computer. Getting some dirt on her rival would be worth the extra Botox. Cornelia carefully hunt-and-pecked "Google." Then "Lucia Haverford Ellis." The screen loaded so quickly that Cornelia gasped. Twelve thousand four hundred mentions. She clicked on Rexnew-house. com and scanned the puff profile he'd written the month before.
Timber family. Miss Dillard's School. Fashion aspirations
. Nothing she didn't know already. There was Lucy at Save Venice, Lucy at the Explorers Club for a book launch, Lucy at a dinner party hosted by Leslie Reynolds just last night--they must have exchanged contact info at the wedding. All the mentions had occurred within the month of January, which only fueled Cornelia's gnawing question: Where had this girl been before she was suddenly
everywhere
?
Frustrated, she clicked through to
Parkavenueroyalty.com
, only to find more infuriatingly glamorous photos of Lucy at various parties. When the home page fully loaded, Cornelia let out another gasp. Lucy, wearing a white Prada dress that Cornelia's stylist said she couldn't get for another month, had deftly scaled the ranks to number one socialite! Cornelia had been demoted to number two. She ran through the reader comments, all of which gushed over the newcomer's grace and beauty. "She and Wyatt are the cutest!" weighed in some loser with the screen name 10021diva. "So glad he dumped Cornelia and found a class act!"
Parkavenueroyalty.com
, only to find more infuriatingly glamorous photos of Lucy at various parties. When the home page fully loaded, Cornelia let out another gasp. Lucy, wearing a white Prada dress that Cornelia's stylist said she couldn't get for another month, had deftly scaled the ranks to number one socialite! Cornelia had been demoted to number two. She ran through the reader comments, all of which gushed over the newcomer's grace and beauty. "She and Wyatt are the cutest!" weighed in some loser with the screen name 10021diva. "So glad he dumped Cornelia and found a class act!"
Cornelia slammed her laptop shut. It was bad enough Lucy appeared to have stolen her man. She wasn't going to steal her crown, too. She picked up the phone and dialed Anna Santiago's number.
"Hello, darling!" Anna said breathlessly. Cornelia could hear the whir of her stationary bike. She was always working out.
"Sweets, a favor. Are the invites for the Vanderbilt gala with the printer yet?"
"I just sent in the proofs. Why?"
Cornelia bit her lip. "Would it be impossible to pull them back and add just one more name to the host committee? It would mean so much to me, or I wouldn't ask."
"Lucy! Lucy!" Lucy whipped her head around to see who'd shouted her name. To her astonished delight, it was one of the many photographers flanking the red carpet at the screening of the new Gus Van Sant film. "Who are you wearing?" he shouted, already snapping her showstopping dress.
"Marchesa!" she called back, remembering Angelique's pose and throwing her chin back with saucy abandon. She wished she'd been able to pull together her own dress for the event, but she'd been out at parties nonstop, cutting drastically into her design time. It didn't matter, she reassured herself--the dress Eloise had pulled for her was fabulous, and the important thing, for now at least, was to boost her visibility. As the photog continued to click away, others followed suit. Some of them didn't know who Lucy was, but it was clear that she was somebody.
After stopping to spell out her name, she made it through the press gauntlet to meet Wyatt inside Soho House's barely lit lobby.
"We're getting there," he said, holding her hand as they stepped into the elevator.
Friends hold hands
, she told herself. Ever since they'd returned from Palm Beach, something seemed to have changed. Maybe it was her imagination, but Wyatt didn't seem as critical as he'd once been. He seemed to be actually enjoying their time together. As they settled into the darkened movie room, their arms grazing because of the tightly packed seats, Lucy felt a frisson of excitement bloom inside her. "Wyatt, thank you," she whispered.
, she told herself. Ever since they'd returned from Palm Beach, something seemed to have changed. Maybe it was her imagination, but Wyatt didn't seem as critical as he'd once been. He seemed to be actually enjoying their time together. As they settled into the darkened movie room, their arms grazing because of the tightly packed seats, Lucy felt a frisson of excitement bloom inside her. "Wyatt, thank you," she whispered.
He looked at her and smiled. "My pleasure."
"I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me. I--" she struggled to express herself. Maybe this wasn't the place to do it. "Do we have anything on the calendar tomorrow night?"
"Cocktails for the School of American Ballet, then dinner with Mimi and Jack."
"Can we get out of it?"
He looked at her with concern. "I'd rather not. You're on the committee now--it wouldn't look right. What's the matter?"
"I, um"--Lucy suddenly felt shy--"I'd like to have you over for dinner. You've treated me to so much. It's the least I can do."
"You cook?"
"Of course I cook."
A bit of a bluff
, she thought,
but how hard could it be
?
A bit of a bluff
, she thought,
but how hard could it be
?
"I'd enjoy that." Wyatt looked touched. "How about next week, instead of tomorrow? Maybe Tuesday? We'll have Howard Galt's birthday party behind us."
"Perfect. Show up hungry."
"It's a date," he said. An unfortunate figure of speech. At the mere mention of the D-word, both Wyatt and Lucy riveted their eyes on the movie screen, and they didn't speak again until the lights came up.
"What do you mean, you haven't told her?" Trip carefully lined up his Calloway driver and squinted off the roof into the distance. It was an unseasonably warm day. He'd begun renting a penthouse apartment solely for its rooftop, allowing him to practice his swing midweek by driving balls into the East River. The lavish four-bedroom apartment was now the home of two of his maids. "What happens when your book gets published and Lucy's exposed as a fraud? You can't keep what you're doing a secret from her forever."
"I know that," Wyatt snapped. He pulled a club from his golf bag. The issue had been on his mind more and more lately, but he wasn't any closer to reaching a resolution. He'd gone through all the possible scenarios in which he could tell Lucy, but in each one, she'd be left hurt, angry, or worse. "But I can't tell her
now
. It would corrupt the scientific nature of the experiment--"
now
. It would corrupt the scientific nature of the experiment--"
"Bullshit," Trip remarked. He halted his swing and looked directly at his friend. "Be a man and admit you're scared. You like this girl. You should have told her at the beginning, but you didn't, and now you don't know how to break the news that you're planning to blow her cover."
"I
like
this girl?" Wyatt repeated incredulously. He had to admit--he enjoyed her company. They'd developed a friendship, thanks to the countless hours spent working on their shared project. But if Trip was implying there was something romantic between him and Lucy--
like
this girl?" Wyatt repeated incredulously. He had to admit--he enjoyed her company. They'd developed a friendship, thanks to the countless hours spent working on their shared project. But if Trip was implying there was something romantic between him and Lucy--
"Fine, don't admit it. But don't pretend you don't care about her feelings." Trip executed his swing, sending the golf ball sailing off the roof and toward a buoy marking the ferry path. "I see the way you look at her. Maybe you're in denial, but nobody else is."
Suddenly Wyatt's interest in golf evaporated. What was supposed to be a relaxing diversion had become a reminder of the stress that had kept him awake the night before. He packed up his clubs and headed for the door. "See you tonight," he called over his shoulder, as Trip launched another golf ball over the FDR.
Cornelia grabbed the baby from a bassinet and cradled it in her arms. It was a scrawny thing, not particularly attractive, but then she'd always considered all babies--let alone these underfed Romanian orphan babies--to be highly overrated in their cuteness, much like kitten heels. "Don't you dare spit up on my Valentino," she whispered, a beatific smile on her face, but the red-faced little creature was making no promises.
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