Being Audrey Hepburn

There is no name for the luscious deep-green of the grass courts in the yellow afternoon sun at the Maidstone Club. A cooling breeze drifted through the trees as ZK diligently tried to teach me how to hit a basic groundstroke. To me the ultraexclusive golf and te

On the court farthest away from the clubhouse, at the edge of the hill above the pond, ZK fed me ball after ball. I hit the fuzzy yellow thing everywhere but in the court, several times forcing profuse apologies to those unfortunate people trying to play doubles nearby.

It was more fun when we were the last ones left and the sun was setting. ZK finally abandoned any pretense of actually teaching me the game of te

We ended up in his car, where he kissed me again. It felt so nice to be held by someone who wanted to hold me. Unbelievable, really, that it was none other than ZK Northcott, practically the most eligible bachelor in America. Was I the only one who knew the wayward boy he sheltered inside? He was a good kisser, that boy. I felt bad that I was taking him for granted.

Back at the house, Tabitha was still sleeping so I didn’t disturb her. I decided to eek out a day or two more with ZK. I’d still have time to get back to the city for Jess’s show. I hoped that I could reach Isak and push my Tumblr and blog following and that we’d put on a pop-up show that could make a splash. I would have invited Tabitha, but there seemed to be a tacit understanding that no one should bother her. I figured I’d save her invite for the last minute before I left.

Flo found me as I headed to my room.

“Lisbeth, I have something for you,” she said, reaching into a giant pink straw bag. “It’s symbolic really.” She pulled out a long blue check. “You’ll probably just want to frame it.” I think my mouth was open as I read my name across the top line and the amount in the box to the side: $2,987.00. “It’s coming together much faster than I expected.” She had a mischievous, self-satisfied smile. “This advance is one of our company checks and is simply based on the tracking data. More checks will come later, but I wanted you to have some idea of what we might expect initially. A little pocket change can’t hurt, right?”

She happily demurred to my profuse thanks, and we gossiped a bit about Tabitha. In a conspiratorial tone, she told me they had given her something to calm her down and that, as a result, she hadn’t come out of her room in days. I told her I was off for an evening with ZK. The mention of his name brought an amused smile to her lips.

“He’s such a good boy,” she said tactfully. “It’s his family I’d be cautious of. I hear the entire Northcott family is unwinding, and that can make one do things one wouldn’t do normally. But I’m sure you can handle him.”

Her words were still resonating in my ears later that night as ZK and I entered Nick and Toni’s for di

“Is it my imagination, or are we under observation?” I asked. ZK didn’t glance up as he cut his steak, but he must have noticed.

“I told you, being a Northcott comes with a fair amount of unwanted attention,” he said.

Although it persisted throughout di

The table next to us was occupied by two couples, middle aged, very well dressed, a bit stuffy, and noticeably well-off. I couldn’t help observing the wives smirking and whispering. ZK seemed to grow more tense as the night went on, no matter what kind of small talk I made. He asked for the check at last, and I figured that would be the end of it.

As we were leaving, one of the men at the table began talking in a voice that all the tables around us could hear. “His father should pay for the rest of his life—it’s despicable,” the man said, undeniably making a point.

ZK pivoted, thrust the chairs out of his way, reached across the table, and picked the man up by his collar, shoving him against the wall. Silverware and plates fell to the floor.

“Don’t you ever say a word about my father again,” ZK said, his teeth clenched. The panic-stricken man’s face was turning blue. I thought ZK would choke him or he’d have a heart attack. The maître d’ and bartender stepped in, separating them, and I hustled ZK out. It wasn’t until we got in the car and drove away that I dared ask him what was going on.

“I apologize for my behavior,” he said. I wasn’t sure how to ask him about his family, how far to go, and what I should know. But it came spilling out of him anyway.

“My father is in more trouble than we ever thought,” ZK said, visibly stiffening, reverting to some schooled behavior. “There are issues now for the whole family.” He said he was reluctant to go into the details, but gradually it came pouring out.

Years ago his father had invested with Bernie Madoff and lost most of the family fortune, which was bad enough. But as time passed and many of the investigations took years to complete, it surfaced that Northcott Sr. had not only invested with the Ponzi con man but fronted the fund to many families in his social set for preferred fees in the last days of the scam. He narrowly avoided a prison term by ratting out other people he knew who had done the same thing, ruining their families as a result. The revelations were coming to light after years and years of investigations. As a result, at sixty-eight he earned the animosity of his oldest friends in New York’s Social Register.

ZK’s mother filed for divorce to protect herself and the other children from further repercussions, and his father had withdrawn to their mansion on Gin Lane, one of the last original houses near Georgica Beach, not far from the famous Grey Gardens.

His father had squandered the remaining family funds to pay his hefty legal fees to avoid jail, failing to pay the bank mortgage. Now the Bank of America—a bank the Northcotts helped found in 1904—had sold the land and begun the process of auctioning the actual house out from under him plank by plank. It was the house in which ZK had spent every summer of his childhood.

56

It was remarkable how dull Tabitha’s house had become since she remained sequestered in her room. The houseguests dwindled, including Flo and Balty. Zoya was especially happy I had decided to stay a few days. She told Tabitha, hoping that would motivate her to leave her room, but it didn’t.

Occasional reporters would appear outside and try to gain entry, but it seemed that Robert Francis or a PR agent or someone had successfully kept a lid on the incident at the Talkhouse. It made me think that for every LiLo event we heard about on TMZ, there were at least two or three more.

Jess was haggling with the gallery about the date, and, though she was confident they would come through, she was afraid to let me send out my eBlast. Keeping track of days passing was a challenge. Waking up at noon and staying up until four in the morning made it hard to determine where one day ended and another began.

The next night I shared my fanciful pursuit of Do

“Lisbeth Dulac has the hottest indie fashion blog and you’re not sure you’re worthy to meet Do

“So let’s go to Tutto,” he said. Tutto Il Giorno was this ultracool Italian restaurant in Sag Harbor owned by Do