Who Wants to Marry a Billionaire? (11 page)

       Glancing
at the ring on her hand Nina said, “I don’t know, just seems like a gilded cage
to me.”

       At La
Bella, the group industriously marched up the steps of the red brick boutique. 
They were back to chattering about French versus American manicures, and what
was going to be happening later that afternoon with their hair.  Kennedy
grabbed the handle of the door and opened it, ushering them in.  Once inside,
though, the quartet fell silent.

       Elsa was
standing in front of the three-paneled mirror, wearing the gold jacquard Vera
Wang.  She almost looked like a completely different person, except for the
sour twist to her mouth.  Busily examining herself, she failed to note the
group’s arrival.

       “Darn it,
Anne, I told you I have a customer for that dress in that size!”  Kennedy
looked ready to fight as she hissed at her colleague.  The lip of the other sales
clerk started to quiver as she whispered while indicating Elsa with a tilt of
her head.  “I know, I know, but she saw it hanging behind the counter and wouldn’t
take no for an answer.”

       “I’ll
take it.”  Elsa turned from the mirror, took one look at the group, and immediately
started to berate Nina.  “Well, well, well—if it isn’t the Lowell hoi polloi. 
I’ve been trying to call you all morning Nina—I don’t appreciate rude little
witches who don’t return their calls.”

       Nina
scrambled through her bag and pulled out her cell phone.  The ringer had
accidentally been shut off.  But before she could say anything, Vicki stepped
up to Elsa and got in her face.  “And I don’t appreciate you talking to my
daughter like that.  What gives you the right?”

       “Mom…don’t…”      

       Elsa
grabbed Nina by the arm, “So is this what we can expect from the mother of the
bride tonight?   I thought you had better judgment than that, Nina.  You don’t
always have to take the trash
out
.”

       Vicki was
getting ready to blow, and Nina realized, so was she.  Desperately trying to
defuse the situation, Nina pulled her arm away from Elsa and stepped in front
of her mother.  “Look Elsa, we just came to get Mom a dress.  My ringer was
accidentally shut off, I’m sorry that I didn’t get your calls.”

       Rita and
Kennedy stood frozen, unsure what to do.  The other sales clerk had discovered
an urgent need to do inventory in the back of the store.  Elsa’s fury seemed
completely out of proportion to anything that had actually occurred.

       “Sorry? 
You’re sorry?  Yes, you are sorry you little nitwit.  And if you and your band
of gussied up tarts do anything to screw this party up for Daniel, you are
going to be very, very sorry.”

       And
that’s when it happened. 

       It felt
like everything was transpiring in slow motion, Nina thought.  And even though
she could see it coming, there was nothing she could do to make it stop.  Vicki
had an awesome right hook.

       Kennedy
let out a frightened “Eep!” and Rita simply stood there with her mouth hanging
open.  Nina was paralyzed, her eyes tracing the arc of Elsa falling backward
and hitting the floor as Vicki stood over her yelling, “Nobody, but nobody
talks to my daughter like that!”  Vicki looked over her shoulder with a shrug,
“My brothers all boxed,” before turning back to Elsa and adding for good
measure with a jab of her finger, “And I want the damn dress.”

       Just
then, Nina’s phone rang.  She looked at the caller id:  DD.  Fantastic.  She
flipped the phone open, on autopilot.  “Hi…one button, super 180 wool, narrow
lapels?  Sounds great.”   Rita and Kennedy were trying to help Elsa up, but she
was shaking them off as she struggled back to her feet in her sky high Jimmy
Choos.  Nina felt like she was watching a movie—a horror movie.  “What are we
doing?  Well, we’re at La Bella’s…yes, yes we did run into Elsa.” 

       Elsa
brushed herself off.   She squeezed her lips together as if she wanted to
either yell or cry, then shook her finger at Nina while whispering imperatively,
“Do NOT tell Daniel what just happened.” 

       “Oh, I’m
sure you’re busy…we’ll save the blow by blow until later…Mom?  Oh yeah, she’s a
real knock out.  Yes…it
is
exciting, sort of like having a ringside
seat…okay, Daniel…thanks for checking in.”  Nina clicked the phone off.   

       Elsa’s
eye was going to be black.  No question about it.  Nina had no idea what she
could possibly say or do.  Her mother was being, well, her mother.  But it was
her maternal instincts that got the better of her and Nina knew the punch had
been motivated by love.  Dealing with Elsa, however, was an entirely different
story.

       The other
sales clerk must have thought the silence signaled “all clear,” as she
reappeared from the back.  Elsa stared at Nina like she wanted to kill her, but
simply said, “I’ll take the black silk tweed with the scalloped neck.”

Chapter Nineteen

       Nina had
never been in a stretch limousine before, although Vicki noted off-handedly
that it was possible that Rita had been conceived in one.  This embarrassed
Reuben to no end, who lounged along one end, his gigantic cast propped up on
the seat.  He was, as he said, out on a one-night escape from his rehab
facility.  Kennedy and Rita both looked a little overwhelmed, and Nina was glad
that Boris was at the helm.  He had a way of calming everyone down.  She sat
immediately behind him; the glass partition that normally separated the driver
down, so they could talk.  She had admitted the afternoon’s events to him like
he was a priest in a confessional.

       Boris,
never overly expressive, simply commented, “That could be a problem.”

       “No
kidding, who knows what Elsa is going to do?  She’s got it out for me and I
really have no idea why.”

       Boris
looked in the rearview mirror at Nina, “No idea?”

       “No
idea.”

       Clearing
his throat, Boris stated matter of factly, “I know why.”

       “You do? 
You want to tell me?”

       “Nina,
Elsa is from Lowell.   Her mother was a drunk, and her father disappeared.”

       “What? 
How on earth do you know that?”

       Boris
shrugged.  “I make it my business to know about everyone who’s close to the
Boss…but…” 

       “But
what?”

       “She was
also in love with Wilson DeVere.  He never knew it, of course.  Wilson met
Dominique at Harvard, and when he got married, it broke Elsa’s heart.”

       “Okay,
now I really want to know how you know
that
.”

       “I have
my…sources.  So…you remind her too much of herself, smart girl from a tough
background, but now you’re getting what she couldn’t have.”

       “A fake
marriage?”  Nina covered her mouth with her hand.  Oh no, she had let it slip
out.  She turned quickly to check on the others, but they hadn’t heard her. 

       “Don’t worry. 
I know what’s going on.  I would never tell anyone.” 

       “I had no
idea how stressful this was all going to be.”  Nina put her fist to her mouth,
feeling her stomach turn over.

       Boris
turned the limousine.  The Opera House was a few blocks away.  “Neither did
Elsa when she planned it out.” 

       “So it
was her idea!  I knew it.”

       “Nina…be
careful.  She’s not done with you, not by a long shot. Okay, now we have talk
about safety procedures.”

       “Safety
procedures?”  Nina looked alarmed.  “What safety procedures?”

       “The
paparazzi are going to be like a pack of ravenous wolves tonight.  First, your
brother gets out.  A wheelchair will be waiting, and I have two associates who
will help him.  Think of the wheelchair as a…battering ram…even the paparazzi
will give way to the injured.  There will be a line of security guards on each
side of the red carpet.  Next, your mom and Rita and Kennedy get out.  Once
they are safely inside, I will personally escort you in and one of my
associates will drive the limousine away.  Let’s not forget that you have a
ring worth a quarter of a million on your hand.”

       “This
thing is real?” Nina looked at it in horror.  She had thought it was just a
good quality fake, like everything else about her engagement.

       Boris
raised one eyebrow.  “Well, the stones are genuine.”

       Nina
quickly explained the arrival procedure to everyone.  She gave Reuben a kiss on
the cheek.  He looked handsome in his new charcoal suit.  Too bad they had to
slit along the seam of one leg of it to fit it over the cast.

“Thanks for
being our armored assault vehicle, bro.”  She turned to her mom, “And Mom, do
not—I mean do not—under any conditions, no matter what anyone says or does, hit
anyone.” 

       Vicki
looked sheepish, “Yeah, yeah.  I promise.”

       “Okay,
let’s do this.”

       The door
flew open and two huge men in suits deftly got Reuben out of the limo and into
his wheelchair.  They nodded, and the ladies got out one by one, to a blinding
battalion of flashing cameras.  There were ooos and ahs from spectators who’d
lined up on the sidewalk to see what the party guests were wearing.  Kennedy
looked at the group proudly and wondered for a moment if she could put “DeVere
Engagement Party” on her resume before they were all quickly hustled inside. 
Boris appeared at the doorway and offered Nina his hand.  She scooted out,
trying to maneuver with the tight sheath of the dress constricting her legs. 
It was the type of dress that looked wonderful while you were standing at a
cocktail party, and was okay when you were sitting down, but it was not very well
designed for transitioning between the two states. 

       She
carefully extended one peep-toed pump out of the car, but unused to the height
of the heels, she caught the heel of her second foot and started to pitch
forward.  Boris expertly intercepted her, but as he stood her up, Nina heard a
terrible noise.  The vent at the back of her dress had split.  And the seam had
split all the way to her butt.  Damn that popcorn.

       “Boris”
she whispered, “We have a little problem.”

       Boris peeked
over Nina’s shoulder and saw the two pieces of her dress flapping where they
should have been attached.  She was still shielded by the car door and his
rather large frame, and he puzzled for a moment as to what to do.  “Okay, I’m
going to take my jacket off and put it around your shoulders.  It should be long
enough to cover your…posterior.  There’s a ladies room almost immediately
inside the door, I will hurry you there and go get Kennedy.  She has her sewing
kit, yes?”

       “Prepared
for an emergency.  And thank goodness you’re so tall.”

       Boris
wriggled out of his jacket and draped it around Nina, checking to make sure her
backside was covered.  He zoomed her inside the Opera House.   

       Dominique
and Wilson stood near the front door of the Grand Lobby, greeting the arriving
guests.  Wilson was talking to Vicki, and Nina could only imagine about what as
they stood among the Carrera marble columns.  Kennedy and Rita were further
down the lobby, under one of the gigantic crystal chandeliers talking to, well,
a philanthropic mega-rock star.  Reuben seemed to be in deep discussion with a well-known,
performance artist.  Dominique saw Nina and fluttered a hand in greeting but
Boris steered her off into the empty ladies room.

       “Stay
here,” he growled, as he put his jacket back on.  “I will go get Kennedy.”

       Kennedy
and Rita were engrossed in a monologue about mosquito nets and clean water
supplies and saving lives in Africa.  Boris knew an aging rocker trying to get
into the knickers of charming young women when he saw one.  He grabbed each of
the girls by an elbow and pulled them away with a curt “excuse me.”

       The girls
turned on him, “What are you doing?  Do you know who that is?”

       “Yes,”
Boris said, and added in his dry way, “And I know exactly what he wants.  Right
now, though, we have a problem.”

       Back in
the restroom, Nina tried not to fret.  She reminded herself that every minute
she spent in the Ladies Lounge, as it was euphemistically called, was a minute
less dealing with the society crowd.  As she sat on the velvet-upholstered,
antique, fainting couch, she realized she now knew why her purse was called a
clutch.  She was hanging onto it like there was no tomorrow.

       The door
opened, and Nina looked up, hoping to see Kennedy, but it was a woman about her
own age with legs reaching from Boston to New Jersey.  She was wearing a very
tight, very short, red, bandage dress with a plunging neckline and a completely
open back.  That— Nina couldn’t help but think—is a gussied up tart.  Still she
tried to remember that this was her party and she should be a gracious guest of
honor.  She smiled at the woman, who started to pass her by without
acknowledgement.  The woman stopped, gave her the once over, and laughed
haughtily with a hand on her hip, “Wow, it is you.”

       Nina
extended her hand, “Hi, I’m Nina.”

       The woman
ignored Nina’s hand.  “How could Daniel ever be attracted to someone so…plump?”
she mused to herself.

       Nina was
getting steamed.  At least she didn’t look like a slutty broomstick, she
thought to herself. 

       The woman
went to the mirror and retrieved a lipstick from her handbag.  She applied it
carefully, then smacked her lips and looked at Nina sympathetically, “You know,
of course, that he’s terrible in bed.”

       “And with
whom might I have the pleasure of discussing my fiancé’s sexual prowess?”  Nina
said sweetly.

       The woman
capped the lipstick crisply, “Paulina Pruitt, heir to the Pruitt Paints
fortune, but you’re welcome to my sloppy seconds.  He has money, sure, but…I
have my own.”