First Kiss (23 page)

"I'll say," Fab said, his voice brimming with mock outrage. "Spontaneous acts of stripping are taking place in my lobby. I'd have the girl arrested, but all my guests are demanding an encore."

"I'm serious, Fab. Somebody tipped off the media that I was staying here. I think it might've been someone on your staff."

He shook his head. "No way."

Kiki started to protest.

"Not my staff. But I think I know who it was."

She waited for his answer.

"Zac Toledo. I got a call from a columnist just before I left for my investors meeting. Of course, I refused comment on everything. She got frustrated and let it slip that she already had a reliable source in Zac and that the story would run as is. The little punk pulls this shit all the time, apparently. He feeds columnists stories in exchange for mentions about himself."

Kiki knew the type. Society boys had to work much harder for the attention that girls like Paris Hilton got just for pulling dresses over their heads. "Does Serafina know?"

"At this point, I could give my sister proof that he's the Antichrist, and it wouldn't make a difference." His sigh was troubled.

"I know it must be difficult to sit on the sidelines, but it's just a phase. Most girls her age go through it. I did, too. I even lost a trust fund as a direct result of my stupidity over guys. But Serafina's stronger and smarter than I was at her age. She'll be fine.

Trust me. At the end of the day, your sister is Teflon-coated."

Fab managed a half grin. "Thanks. I needed to hear that." For a moment, he grew pensive, almost melancholy.

Kiki sat down. "What is it?"

"Nothing it's it's just hard for me to accept that my sister thinks that I'm like him that I'm an overgrown Zac Toledo." He glanced up, and for the first time she saw him as vulnerable. "I'll be the first to admit that I've got some commitment issues, but"

"Commitment issues don't make you a Zac Toledo," Kiki assured him. "That just makes you a man. God, it makes you human . I've got commitment issues, too. For instance, I can't settle with a good fa-cialist. And don't get me started on stylists and colorists." She leaned forward to whisper, "I'm a total hair slut ."

Fab grinned. All the way this time. "I'll say this, Kiki. You do have a clever way of putting a sunny spin on things. That's why I think that book of yours is going to be a success."

Kiki paused a moment, allowing the comment ample time to evaporate. He talked about her book dream with such seriousness. It made her uncomfortable, because deep down, she knew that she would never finish it. And even if she one day managed to produce the discipline to get something down on paper, she'd never in a million years have the temerity to show it to anybody, especially a professional within the publishing industry. The thought alone terrified her.

"So put those thoughts out of your head," Kiki said, circling wide around the book talk and steering back toward Fab's sister. "Zac is certainly one of those creeps who breaks up with a girl by e-mail, if he even bothers to tell her that the relationship is over at all." She smiled at him shrewdly. "I'm sure all of your exes got a nice dinner and a lovely parting gift with their exit speech. At the very least."

Fab grinned and offered a modest, diffident shrug in a show of self-deprecating amusement, but, ultimately, the reaction revealed nothing at all. Which seemed to be a pattern with him. Revealing very little.

Kiki sat there as the Fab Tomba folklore tumbled down. The columnists had their spin. Kirby and Tiffany Lynn had theirs. Serafina got her licks in. Fab himself had a prickly nature when comparisons to Zac Toledo or any other womanizer from the same smarm pool came gurgling up. And all of it led back to the same dead-end cliche: a heartache waiting to happen. So why did she still believe that her experience with him would be totally different?

"What are you thinking about?" Fab asked. "I see a question trying to form, but you seem to be holding back."

"Oh, I seem to be holding back?" Kiki sniffed. "That's rich. You'll hardly tell me what your favorite color is."

"Green."

Kiki rolled her eyes skyward.

He leaned back in his chair and formed a pyramid with his fingertips. "Okay, ask me anything. Nothing's off limits. Shoot to kill."

It was her opening. She went for it. "Tell me what happened with Tiffany Lynn."

He smiled, saying nothing. But there was a wince. A slight one. "Nothing happened . She's a sweet girl. It just didn't work out. That's all."

" It just didn't work out ," Kiki repeated. "Let me give you a bit of advice. As it pertains to relationships, that's a word string you should probably delete from your vocabulary. It's almost as insulting as any apology that goes something like, I'm sorry you feel that way ."

Fab's smile deepened. "But those are two of my favorites."

"I have no doubt. Is that what the girl from The Apprentice heard, too? Didn't she come after Tiffany Lynn?"

There was an expression on Fab's face that was not far from irritation. "I'm not leaving women at the altar, Kiki. I date. I date a lot . What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I suppose," Kiki answered. "As long as you're up-front about it and getting involved for the right reasons."

"Can you give me the Kiki Douglas version of a right reason to get involved?" He was getting angry, and his playboy baggage was filling up the small space of his office. Soon they would have to cut out of the room to make room for it.

"I can give you a wrong one," Kiki said. Enough dancing around the bush. Time to burn it. "It would be wrong to date the new dancer at Camisole because she's fresh from the West Coast and the club's number one girl. It would also be wrong to date a girl just because she's on television's hottest reality show."

"Or leading the headlines over the last few days," Fab finished. One beat. "The accusation being that I'm some kind of trophy dater who only gets off on novelty chicks." He waved his hand in a quick dismissal of the theory altogether. "Bullshit. I went out with Tiffany because for a quick minute Camisole was balm for my soul. I was stressed out and needed to loosen up after work. I walk in a club like that, and there's no asking, no begging, no charming. Just a one hundred percent guarantee that girls will get naked for me. It's a Barbie fantasy. And Tiffany Lynn's as gorgeous as they come. What man wouldn't want to go out with her? It was casual for me, but I saw her getting attached, so I cut it off before any more damage got done. I never wanted to hurt her. She's a sweetheart. As for The Apprentice

girl, she has a name. Amanda . We met at a restaurant opening and went out twice. She canceled our third date and stopped returning my calls. Turns out she just wasn't that into me. Imagine that. And as for you, the fact that you've been leading the headlines in the Post is the least interesting thing about you. For once I've met a girl I can play serious verbal volley with. Sometimes it's frustrating, but it's never boring."

For long seconds, Kiki just sat there with nothing to say. And then she found the words. "Uh, I guess now is a bad time to ask for a room upgrade."

Fab grinned, leaning forward to access the information on his iMac. "The May-December suite just became available this morning. I'll set you up there." He spun around to retrieve something from a working table behind him. "I mentioned that I spoke to a few literary agents, right?"

Kiki nodded. Oh, God. The book again.

"Both expressed interest. They'd like to take a look at a proposal." Fab slid a packet across the desk. "Here's an explanation of the format and a model example to follow. Act now while your name is on people's lips. This is the kind of book that gets sold over lunch."

Kiki watched him, her chin balancing on the tips of her fingers, her elbows on the desk. "You actually think I can do this, don't you?"

"Absolutely. And I want to be on the book tour when you go up against Bill O'Reilly." That should be an interesting match up.

Kiki held his eyeshonest eyes, and maybe, just maybe, even committed eyes

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected] vshelton@kleinschmidtbelker

Subject: Just for Fun

Hi Girls!

Any word on the groomsmen yet? I know this sounds very seventh grade, but let's have a little fun and list our top three dream groomsmen and see if any of them match up. What a hoot!

KIKI'S GROOMSMEN WISH LIST

Brad Pitt (must have short hair and no facial hair)

Clive Owen (can show up with syphilis as long as he comes)

Michael Vartan (must go sleeveless to show his tattoo)

KIKI'S GROOMSMEN WISH LIST ALTERNATES (in the event that one or more from the main list can't fulfill their duties)

George Clooney (must agree to take me to his Italian villa after)

Jon Stewart (cute funny Jewish guys are always good in a pinch)

Jon Bon Jovi (has to sing "It's My Life" at reception)

Now it's your turn!

Air Kisses,

Kiki

The May-December suite was opulent, luxurious, and, at almost one thousand square feet, larger than Kiki's apartment.

A velvet curtain divided the romantic bedroom sanctuary (with an egg-shaped tub placed in front of an enormous Venetian mirror) from a separate living area complete with a dining table and a guest bathroom.

"I'm never leaving!" Kiki thundered as Tate followed behind, lugging her garbage bags filled with so many useless things that Suzi-Suzi had packed. " Ever ! Do you hear me? I'm moving in."

Tate merely smiled as he struggled with her belongings, offering a respectful, "It will be our pleasure to have you."

Kiki cocked her head to one side. "By the way, how much is this room per night?"

The blank look on Tate's face matched his blank answer.

Oh, God, it must be an enormous amount. It was more than twice the size of her old hovel. But after seeing this , Kiki was practically insulted that Fab had ever put her in the Mistress Hideaway in the first place. It amounted to nothing more than a closet!

Okay, so the hotel had been booked solid. Still, something could've been done. A bit of rearranging, that sort of thing. It happened all the time in restaurants and clubs. For instance, if P. Diddy showed up at, say, Bungalow 8, with twelve bodyguards in tow, people would be plucked from tables to make room. Just ask Tori Spelling. Her night was cut short once. Anyway, why should that icky politician who liked to be dominated get a nicer room?

Kiki banished the categorical unfairness from her mind. Now that she had the proper accommodations, she could get some real work done. It was hard to accomplish anything without enough space or too much clutter junked around. A girl needed a clean environment.

She settled in at the desk and jotted down a quick checklist on Affair stationery:

KIKI'S THINGS TO DO

1) Write book proposal

2) Get agent info for Suzi-Suzi

3) Find Kirby a better job

4) Head-to-toe glamour treatment

Kiki reviewed the list and decided that the best thing to do would be to start with smaller tasks. That way the act of checking them off would serve as a motivator to get more doneas opposed to starting with some enormous project like a book proposal and then not being able to finish it.