Being Audrey Hepburn

I tried to catch ZK’s eye as I was swept away, wondering if he’d felt the little sparks I had. But he was otherwise occupied, engrossed in an intense conversation with la Rothenberg.

25

The elevator doors opened right out onto the famous Soho House rooftop, and Tabitha was greeted with a roar of recognition from the hordes of party people there to celebrate her new release.

What a scene! The pool, in the center of the rooftop, was small, but it seemed like the clubbers didn’t mind—nobody was swimming laps anyway. A DJ was spi

A group of exquisitely dressed Italians were laughing so loudly that it even competed with the music.

I spun 360—listening to the body-shaking beats ricochet around the pool and off the buildings surrounding us, looking at all the beautiful people, and breathing in the sensuous summer night air. I wanted to let every single sensation sink into my skin. I couldn’t remember ever being as excited about anything as I was in that moment. It was hard to keep from shrieking and screaming for joy, but I figured that would have given me away as a total newb.

“That new single is going to be a smash, Tabby,” said a ski

“Oh Balty. You’re such a tool.” Tabitha laughed good-humoredly, but Balty (what kind of name was Balty?) wasn’t paying attention. He stared right at me, making it unequivocally clear what he had in mind.

“Ahem, Balty, the girl you’re undressing with your eyes is my friend and she has a name—Lisbeth. Lisbeth, this is Balty Birkenhead. Don’t let him lay a hand on you.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” I said, smiling. “So nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine!” he said. “I confess, Lisbeth, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you from the second you walked in the door. That’s some dress.” Balty gri

“Stu

“Why, thank you,” I said.

“Your name is so familiar. Have I met you before?” she asked.

“She’s the Shades of Limelight girl,” Tabitha volunteered. I was?

“Of course!” the redhead responded. “The girls on my staff read that blog all the time. It seems to have developed a following out of nowhere.” She thrust her hand out to shake mine. “Florence, but you can call me Flo.”

It was surprising how viral my blog had gone. I guess on the Internet, no one knew you were from Jersey.

“Please take my card,” she said, handing me a square red and black card that matched her hair and dress. “I specialize in fashion and Internet marketing. I’d love to work with you. I’m sure we could procure a number of key endorsements for you and solicit the best aggregators. Our ad placement is quite impressive, if I do say so myself.”

“Why, thank you,” I said. Aggregators? I didn’t have a clue, but I saved her card in my little clutch anyway.

“Tabby, she’s absolutely precious,” Flo remarked, as though I wasn’t there.

“Isn’t she?” Tabitha laughed. “Come on, Lisbeth, we have to keep moving or these two will start drooling over you. Ta-ta for now!”

Tabitha dragged me off through the crowd, turning to whisper in my ear. “Balty’s family owns half the newspapers in London, Murdoch’s biggest rival. The redhead is his sister; she runs the whole online operation, which has already surpassed the core business.”

Tabitha steered me in and out of conversations all over the rooftop, and I was impressed with how adept she was at working the crowd. I’d never seen anything like it. She was some kind of social savant, sharing little inside jokes or dishing about a friend in common or the best place to eat spaghettini alla vongole in Portofino. She managed to laugh at every lame joke, riding a wave of conviviality.

“Tabitha, a quick sound bite on the new album?” Tabitha and I turned to find Chase, the video guy. He gave me a snarky “told you so” smirk and lifted his camera. I moved to step away as the interview began, but Tabitha grabbed my hand and held tight.

“Sure!” Tabitha said, all sparkly and showbiz as she entered the spotlight, dragging me along. “I’m here with my best friend, Lisbeth Dulac, famous blogger and fashion critic…” I tried not to look astonished.

While the tape rolled, I realized I was uncomfortable being in Chase’s orbit. I had a bad feeling about him. I did my best not to make eye contact. Looking around through the lights, I was surprised to see ZK watching me. He raised his glass, toasting me from the other side of the pool, and I smiled back. Had he noticed that spark after all?

“… Is that true, Ms. Dulac?” Chase was asking. How many minutes had passed?

I felt Tabitha tug on my hand, dragging me out of my ZK-induced daze. I saw the camera and Chase’s face in front of me. Chase followed my gaze and saw ZK and gave me a knowing smirk.

“Yes,” I answered, bewildered, not having a clue what the question was. Chase terminated the interview. Tabitha giggled.

“Told you I’d see you again,” Chase said so that only I could hear as Tabitha dragged me along. I felt totally confused.

“No worries,” she said. “It’s always hard to concentrate when you have an admirer watching you.” She laughed and instantly another watermelon-ginger cocktail appeared in our hands. The drinks kept coming. Tabitha threw them back like sodas as we moved our way through the rooftop crowd.

“Everyone loves you,” she gushed, her eyes closing as she talked. After five or so drinks, if my count was correct, she seemed dangerously unsteady. Who wouldn’t?

I drew her into a shadowy corner. The girl just didn’t know how to “regulate her alcoholic intake” as we said back home. Why weren’t her girlfriends looking out for her? Speaking of which, where were her girlfriends? Where I came from, if a hottie like Tabitha started acting shaky, the guidos closed in like vultures. A girl depends on her peeps to keep her safe. I figured if I could just get her out of the action for a second, she might be able to catch her breath.

“I’m so happy you came, I’ve been so out of it, I realized I hadn’t texted you the details, sometimes I get totally spaced. I was worried you wouldn’t come,” she said, throwing back her head and looking exhausted. “This party would be such a drag if you weren’t here.”

Her voice was so slurry and she just rambled, so I didn’t really absorb what she was saying. I just wanted her to feel better. “You have such lovely friends, Tabitha, and they all adore you,” I said. “I’m sure you would have been fine. After all, it’s your party.”

“It’s so not true; you don’t understand.” Wobbling on her high heels, she leaned close into me and whispered, “I didn’t want this party. I didn’t want to even record the album.” She slid back into the corner and seemed to become smaller. This girl definitely needed a two-drink max.

“So … why were you talking to them anyway?” she asked, her face an expression of pure petulance and paranoia. I tried to grapple with her margarita mood shift.

“Talking to who?”

“You know, Dahlia and ZK. He’s okay, but she’s a terror.”

I surveyed the party. What was Tabitha asking? The deck was getting so crowded I couldn’t believe how many hip-hoppers, music-biz insiders, ingenues, and party boys were there. I tried to focus, but the watermelon cocktails clouded my brain, too. Weren’t ZK and Dahlia her friends? Hadn’t she asked ZK to check me out? Otherwise, why did ZK know to text me?