Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“I don’t have much more…yet.”
Then why did he want so badly to talk to me?
“But I think we both can agree this is sinister news,” he went on.
We could definitely agree on that.
“Indeed,” I said.
“So dire, I’m activating the G-Force.”
This was such news, I forgot about being Jamie’s brownie and gasped.
The G-Force was Teddy’s group of friends. They were all gay (hence, the “G”) and they were all connected. They could find out anything, and they did. In fact, after Elsa was folded into the family, several of them acknowledged they were informants of hers when she was still in the gossip game.
They could also ruin you if they so desired.
One could just say, Truman Capote’s lesson to the swans, which should have been passed down generation to generation with alacrity, was not learned by every female in Manhattan. Swans all over the place were making the same mistakes with the G-Force. And if they didn’t stay on the Force’s good side, as the saying went, shit got real.
Usually (as in, always), their maneuvers were only made on behalf of members who felt they’d been wronged.
It was a huge honor they might consider my plight for one of their skilled and precise strikes.
“Do you think they’ll take it on?” I asked.
“I already know they will,” Teddy purred.
“Oh my God,” I breathed with sheer, unadulterated glee.
“They love you. You’re a gay icon. You’re our Babe Paley.”
I just knew they were all over going Capote. Though (in my opinion), Babe hadn’t deserved the Capote treatment.
Fortunately, the G-Force was on the side of good.
Not to mention…
How sweet.
“With better hair and less of a stick up your ass,” Teddy continued.
“I knew I adored you,” I stated.
“Obviously,” Teddy returned.
“Though, we can agree, Babe was eventually hindered by bad sixties helmet hairstyles.”
“We can certainly agree that,” Teddy replied. “Although we love you, it’s important to note, part of this is about the fact Paloma hasn’t exactly stayed in the good graces of the G-Force.”
I was completely unsurprised.
“Color me stunned,” I drawled.
“Get off the phone, Teddy,” Mika ordered in the background. “She should be having cocktails with Jamie right now.”
“Fine,” he snapped at Mika, then to me, “I’ll let you go, beloved. We’re on it on this end.”
“For the G-Force, cocktails and closet privileges at my place.” I declared. “For you, pick your boutique.”
“Even if it’s Chopard?” Teddy tested.
“Dearest,” I cooed. “Who are you talking to?”
There was a pause, before, “I adore you too, Nora. And that classless piece of trash is not going to mess with you.”
My eyes started stinging.
“I have false eyelashes on, Teddy,” I warned.
“Of course, ta-ta,” Teddy said.
Then Mika was back on the phone. “Knock him dead, babe. Speak soon. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
We rang off.
I couldn’t say my panic was gone.
I could say I had hope for the first time in decades I’d get the happily ever after of my dreams.
So, absolutely.
The panic was not gone.
I went to the full-length mirror on the inside door of the closet, checked my dress (Mika was right, I had amazing legs), my lipstick and my lashes, and then I headed out.
There was a small bar in the aft lounge, so Jamie and I had decided to meet there that evening for a change of pace, and because the space was smaller, and thus less formal, but more relaxed.
I entered with a smile on my face that had a lot to do with the exceptionally cut blue suit and crisp, pristine white shirt Jamie was wearing.
My smile faltered when I noted he was prowling the floor like a caged tiger.
It died when he caught sight of me, stopped dead and pinned me to the spot with a lethal expression on his handsome face.
Oh dear, it appeared he seriously liked my cocktails and was not one with having to wait.
His gaze swept the length of me, settling on my legs, before he growled, “Are you fucking shitting me?”
“I beg your pardon?” I demanded.
His eyes raced to mine. “Did you miss something in your report about your chat with Castellini, sweetheart?”
I was confused, and communicated that by inquiring, “What?”
“Maybe the fact that he,” Jamie bent toward me ominously, which gave notice of what was to come, before he roared, “asked for a reconciliation!”
I actually felt my face lose all color. “How do you know that?”
Jamie straightened, tipped his head back and thundered to the ceiling, “Jesus Christ!”
I dashed toward him and snapped, “For heaven’s sake, keep your voice down.”
His chin slanted into his throat, and he speared me with a venomous look as he snarled, “Fuck that. Fuck him. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m obviously not going to entertain his notion,” I sniffed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he repeated his question.
“How did you know?” I shot back.
“Tom phoned.”
Tom?
Tom betrayed me?
Counting this whole yacht situation…
He did it again?