Part 15 (2/2)
”It's a Klonopin. Also known as the gay man's valium. For emergencies.”
”Marci, I don't take pills,” I insisted.
”Darling, don't be embarra.s.sed. Everyone's drugged twenty-four-seven in New York,” whispered Marci, pulling me off into a dark corner. ”It's not Botox that's smoothing their brows, it's anti-anxiety medication.”
”Are you coming upstairs?” sang out Phoebe's voice from behind us. ”We've got the table by the window-”
Ignoring Phoebe, I fled through the fire exit and down the back stairs. Secretly, I was glad I had Marci's Klonopin: in a crisis there's nothing wrong with a chemically induced blanket of love.
”Can you believe Henri sent me a llama for Christmas? What am I supposed to do with a llama? It's going to die of homesickness here. And then Juan keeps faxing pictures of this stallion to me. It's in a field in Spain, waiting for me. I can't stand it.” Lauren sighed, as if in frustration. ”I suppose you do get better gifts as a divorcee. Five o.r.g.a.s.ms sent me a mink-lined Yves Saint Laurent trench coat.” Lauren fingered the oversized pearl, gold, and turquoise choker that was flat around her neck, as if to check it was still there. The stones were so large and extraordinarily shaped that it reminded me of a Pica.s.so sketch. ”Tony Duquette. It's my me-me gift celebrating Jailbait Make Out and Mogul Make Out. I had to really cheer myself up after Sanford. Do you like it?”
”Its incredible,” I replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.
”You don't think I look like Elizabeth Taylor wearing it with this lace dress? Do you want to borrow it? Anytime, just ask.”
Lauren and I were sitting in one of the double booths at Rescue getting a pedicure the night after the Soho House screening. I'd recounted what Marci had told me the night before, and I suppose she was trying to cheer me up. I'd gone home last night, seen Hunter, and tried to pretend nothing was wrong. I needed time to figure out my next move. When Hunter had asked me why I looked so exhausted, I'd lied and told him it was the stress of organizing the outfits for Alixe's Winter Ball, which was only a few days away. In the meantime I had tortured myself all night, brooding obsessively and dreading the inevitable confrontation with Hunter. Strangely, he'd seemed as affectionate as ever, which almost made it all the more painful. The fact was, I really loved him.
”I don't understand why he's being so attentive. When I got home last night, he saw I was cold and made me hot ginger tea. Why would he do that if he's seeing Sophia? I love him. I really adore him,” I said hopelessly.
”Don't be deceived,” said Lauren grimly. ”Husbands are always most attentive and sweet when they're up to something.”
”Maybe you could take me to see your divorce lawyer,” I said.
”Not right now. You shouldn't be speaking to lawyers. You should be figuring things out with your husband,” said Lauren, changing tack.
”But-”
”-divorce isn't all it's cracked up to be,” Lauren interrupted me. ”It's over-rated. And who knows? Maybe Marci's made a mistake.”
”But, Lauren, you seem so...well, you have fun. I'm miserable. I just want to have fun again.”
”Shouldn't you hear Hunter's side first? I think it's time to confront him. Do it tonight,” replied Lauren. ”Occasionally husbands admit the truth.”
I am going to ruin tonight, I thought guiltily when I got home after the pedicure. Hunter had made reservations to see Eartha Kitt at Cafe Carlyle weeks ago. When he'd suggested it, I thought it had sounded like a very romantic night out. I was due to meet him there at eight. As I got dressed, in a rather somber black velvet c.o.c.ktail dress that matched my mood, I wondered whether I could delay telling him what Marci had told me: did I really have to do it tonight, of all nights? Or would it be better to get it over with? I couldn't keep pretending nothing was wrong just because there was this thing or that thing we were supposed to be doing. As I headed uptown in a taxi, I tried to steel myself for what was to come: tonight was going to be h.e.l.l, but if I put it off, I would only be delaying the h.e.l.l and making things even worse.
When I arrived at the Carlyle, Hunter was already at our table. There was a gla.s.s of champagne waiting for me, which I drank in three seconds flat. Gloomy as I felt, I couldn't help but notice what a nice atmosphere there was in the place: it was glitzy but cozy, a welcome relief from the freezing January weather outside.
”Are you all right, darling?” said Hunter, immediately sensing my mood.
”Actually, I'm not...feeling too good,” I said, eyes lowered. Was I supposed to do this now, I wondered? Or should we order first? Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d.
”I think I can cheer you up-”
”I don't think so,” I said sadly. I drew in a long breath and started, ”Hunter I-”
Just then, Hunter placed a small, purple suede box on my plate. The words S. J. Phillips were stamped across the top in gold. I just stared at it, baffled. What was this supposed to mean?
”Don't you want to open it, darling?” said Hunter. He had a huge smile across his face.
I carefully lifted the lid of the box. There, sitting on a puffy bed of pale blue satin was the pendant from the sketch. It was spectacular: the amethyst glimmered magnificently, as though it was lit from inside, and the diamonds entwined around it twinkled like a galaxy of glittering stars. It was such a romantic gift. But...was this the same pendant I had seen on Sophia? It couldn't be! But then, why hadn't Hunter given it to me at Christmas? Should I say something to Hunter now, or not? Maybe Marci had made a mistake...or...oh, G.o.d. I didn't know what to do.
”Don't you like it?” said Hunter, looking worried.
”Oh, yes, it's...amazing,” I said. ”Absolutely exquisite.”
”I meant to give it to you at Christmas, but the clasp wasn't right. They had to redo it.”
Was that true? Had Sophia worn it first? I was mystified.
”Aren't you going to try it on?”
I took the necklace out of the case and fastened it around my neck. I turned and looked in the mirror behind me. The amethyst hung in exactly the right spot, just below my clavicle. It gleamed and sparkled in such a seductive way. It would be lovely to wear to Alixe Carter's ball.
”Hunter, it's lovely, but-”
”-grrrrrrr!” purred Eartha Kitt, as she started her set.
Hunter suddenly got up and came and sat on the banquette next to me. He put his arm around me and kissed me affectionately. This wasn't the moment to start accusing him of all sorts of craziness. Maybe I would delay, just for tonight.
When I told Lauren and Marci what had happened, they were just as puzzled as I was. We were having breakfast the next morning at a quiet corner table at Jack's on West Tenth Street.
”But I saw Sophia last night, at Alixe's. She was wearing the pendant,” said Marci.
”No,” I shuddered, unable to hide my worry. ”That's impossible. Look,” I added, showing her the pendant, which was still around my neck.
”It's identical to the one she was wearing,” declared Marci. ”That's so bizarre. Weird.”
”Marci, you have to find out what's going on,” ordered Lauren. ”Get Sophia on the phone, now.”
Marci got up from the table and headed over to a secluded nook. Lauren and I watched anxiously as she dialed Sophia. A few seconds later Marci mouthed ”it's her” and spent the next five minutes whispering down the line. I was so nervous I could feel a piercing headache coming on above my left eye.
Eventually she hung up and came back to the table. She looked troubled.
”What did she say? Come on,” said Lauren bossily.
”Well...I think she said...” Marci looked confused. She put her hand to her forehead and pressed it hard as though solving a complicated algebraic equation. Finally she went on, ”OK, this is what I think happened. I told Sophia that I loved the necklace she was wearing last night. So, I asked her where it was from. Anyway, she just said 'He gave it to me.' I think. Yes. That's what she said, or...”
”Get on with it,” scolded Lauren.
”Don't stress me out. I'm trying to get the story right,” replied Marci anxiously.
I drew in a large breath and held it, terrified.
”So, I told Sophia 'He's given his wife the same necklace.' So Sophia said that He had to do that after his wife saw her wearing it in Megeve. She thinks you don't have a clue, Sylvie, and she said she felt sorry for you. Anyway, she made me promise not to say a thing but she said that necklace was always meant for her. Always.”
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