Reunion Girls (23 page)

Baby Bear answered.

"Hey, man, it's Dean Paul. How's our favorite girl?"

"What's up? She's doing okay. Got a friend here tonight. Things are cool."

"Yeah? Well, I'm downstairs with a friend, too. We want to come up."

"Sounds like a party. I'll be right down."

Dean Paul looked at Babe.

She was on to him now. "What is this? Gabrielle and I are supposed to have some kind of pity party?"

"I have a feeling there won't be much pity to it."

They waited outside the elevator for Baby Bear. He alone had the special key that provided access to the penthouse floor.

"I'll push you over the balcony if you even think about suggesting a three-way."

Dean Paul smiled flirtatiously. "Come on. I've gone to all this trouble."

The doors opened. There stood Baby Bear. He took one look at Babe and broke out into a wide grin. "Uh, oh. It's sho'nuff gonna be a party."

Babe leaped into the elevator and hugged his massive neck.

Dean Paul was puzzled. "You two know each other?"

"We partied in the Hamptons together," Babe explained.

"Correction—
they
partied," Baby Bear said. "I just tried to keep them girls out of jail."

When they got to the suite, Babe rushed to embrace Gabrielle . . . and Lara.

Dean Paul was shocked to find her there. As they regarded each other, a palpable tension filled the room. Lara seemed downright angry. He couldn't imagine that she was still mad about his phone call.

Lara stepped out onto the balcony.

He followed her.

The view was spectacular. The sounds of the city sang from below. But all of that seemed lost on her as she stared at him as if he were a mess on the side of the road.

"Have you talked to Finn?"

"Yes." Her tone was clipped.

"I think you should save that look on your face for Joaquin. He's the one who deserves it."

"This isn't about Joaquin." She glanced back into the suite and lowered her voice to a hiss. "This is about you hiring
Bizzie Gruzart
to represent Gabrielle!"

The attack caught him completely off guard. "Am I missing something here?"

"Gabrielle's situation is serious. She needs quality representation, and the best you can come up with is Bizzie Gruzart?"

"The record label has frozen her out. Before I got involved, her representation was a three-hundred-pound bodyguard with a message pad."

Lara opened her mouth to argue.

But a memory clicked in Dean Paul's head that triggered a quickly lit anger. "I was in Greece when this happened. But you were right here, Lara. And as I understand it, you were the first to see her after the shooting and the breaking of the story. If
quality representation
is so important, why didn't you suggest it then? Maybe you weren't thinking straight. Maybe your mind was all wrapped up in hitting the sheets with your polo stud."

Lara's face was a masterpiece of humiliation and guilt.

Instantly, he felt a stinging sense of regret for coming down so hard. "Lara, I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"No," she whispered, looking shell-shocked. "As much as I hate to admit it, you're absolutely right."

Lara never ceased to amaze him. She was a class act. The kind of lady that parents didn't raise anymore. Any other woman would still be fighting right now, if only to get a few digs in, but Lara had recognized her own weakness and stopped the argument cold. He would never get that from Aspen. Dean Paul thought about what Finn had told him regarding Lara's purchase of
The Great Gatsby.
Suddenly, he just wanted to take her into his arms.

She turned to grip the balcony rail with both hands and glanced down. "I have a friend at PMK. I should've called her. I just wasn't thinking." Lara's voice sounded far away.

"Bizzie will do fine. It's not a long-term pairing. She's just someone to help Gabby through this rough patch."

Lara sighed and twirled around to face him, her long hair blowing in the breeze. "I don't hate many people in this world. But I do hate Bizzie Gruzart. Forgive me if I'm high-strung where she's concerned."

Dean Paul pulled her in for a quick embrace and kissed her cheek. As always, she smelled magnificent. Hints of gardenia and ylang ylang clung to his nostrils. "Why do you even bother yourself with someone like Bizzie? You're light-years ahead of her. You put on fantastic events that take people to another place. You've helped raise millions for charities. What you do is an art form. Bizzie hires a caterer and books a band. It's no contest. I thought she could help Gabby because the major networks are involved. With Bizzie in the mix, all of this will get sorted out fast. Her last name alone will make sure of that."

For the moment, Lara appeared satisfied with his explanation. "Okay. I won't poison the well tonight. If the subject of Bizzie comes up, I might even put in a decent word."

"That's my girl." He took in a deep breath and glanced at his watch. "I'd better go. I have quite a mess waiting for me at home. Besides, the sooner I get out of your way, the sooner you girls can start your slumber party. Is it still all about junk food, pillow fights in your pajamas, and prank calls to boys?"

Lara smiled and hooked her arm through his as she walked him out. "Better put your phone on silent.”

And then Dean Paul left them to their female bonding—the two women that he used to love . . . and the one that he still did.

The It Parade

by Jinx Wiatt

Fill in the Blanks

Heartfelt apologies to Tara Reid! She's not the only girl who stumbles around with a lampshade on her head. Yours truly has it on very good authority that the three exes of a certain recently married American prince are at it again. East Hampton is still reeling from that wild, post-reception private party at Mr. Thuggish Mogul's pad. Now spies report that the Waldorf-Astoria is the scene for their latest sorority meeting. But you know what they say about sisters who share sweaters. They do so often—and with much argument.

Lara

"PRIVI, PLEASE. I'LL BE YOUR best friend."

Finn was whining.

Lara was dying. Again.

Privi sighed the sigh of the defeated. "Okay. But then you have to go. Lara needs her rest." She pursed her lips in disapproval. "Why can't you sit on the chaise in the corner? It's not proper for you to be in the same bed."

Finn crossed his ankles and sank a little deeper into the pillows. "I'm gay, Privi. There's nothing improper about it. Just try to think of me as her sister."

Privi shook her head. "What would you like to eat, Finn?"

He clapped his hands in delight. "A grilled cheese sandwich. Make it exactly like you did that time I came over to watch the
Real Housewives of Beverly Hills
marathon."

"And how was that?" Privi asked.

"I think you used Gruyere cheese. The bread was brown but not too brown. It had the most perfect crunch. And you cut off the crust."

Privi beamed a disappointed look at Lara. "I used the last of the whole milk making my banana bread for Yari. I'll have to step out to the market."

"Since you'll be out," Finn began, "bring back today's
Examiner.
I'm dying to see what Jinx Wiatt has to say."

Finally, Lara attempted to speak. "No, Privi," she croaked. "It's raining. You're not going anywhere."

Finn scowled at Lara. "It's not raining
inside
the building. There's a market on the first floor."

Privi's expression was iron-fisted stubbornness. "I can't make Yari's hangover cure without the milk."

Lara steadied herself with both hands. The nausea grew so intense that she ended up closing her eyes. "Please, I beg you... don't mention food . . . of any kind."

Beside her, Queenie scratched at the covers to nestle the perfect napping spot.

Lara gave her a loving stroke.

Privi looked on sternly. Her sympathy had its limits. "I thought you learned your lesson from that last night of debauchery. Yari's husband had cirrhosis of the liver. Is that what you want?"

Lara smiled weakly. "That's from long-term alcohol abuse, Privi. I'm guilty of two isolated incidents. Incredibly stupid. But isolated just the same."

"Actually, it's three," Finn put in. "Remember our junior year at Brown? The Naked Party?"

Privi gasped in horror.

"Yes, thank you, Finn," Lara grumbled. She held up three fingers. "Okay, three times. And I'm almost thirty."

Finn looked at Privi. "She's a saint. Kids today have three incidents before they turn thirteen."

Lara touched his leg to silence him. "You're not helping."

"I'm going out for the milk."

"Privi, please don't. This time is worse than the last. I know I'll never get the cure down. I just need to sleep it off."

But Privi would hear none of it. She stepped around to fluff Lara's pillow into shape and patted Queenie on the head. "Young lady, you will take every drop, and if this happens again, I'll be on the phone to your parents. And Queenie is overdue for a grooming."

"Call Hernando," Lara said softly. "He'll come here to do it. Queenie doesn't like that other place. It's too loud. Besides, the carrier makes her nervous. We only have one tranquilizer left, and that's for her next vet visit."

"That dog sounds like Neely O'Hara," Finn cracked.

Privi felt Lara's forehead with the back of her hand.

"Am I warm?" Lara wondered. "I feel warm."

Privi bent over to open the mini ice box near the bed. She produced a cold gel mask and carefully placed it over Lara's eyes.

The cool sensation instantly soothed her. "Oh, that feels marvelous. Privi, why didn't I think of this?"

"Maybe because alcohol destroys brain cells," Privi said.

"Actually, it doesn't," Finn argued. "Alcohol damages dendrites. Those are the branched ends of nerve cells. And it's not permanent. They repair themselves."

Lara and Privi regarded him curiously.

"I saw a special on the Science channel. Ironically, I was in bed with a hangover at the time."

Privi adjusted Lara's comforter. "I'm going out for the milk." She started for the door.

"I'm so jealous right now I can't stand it," Finn called out. "Can I stay over whenever I have a hangover?"

Lara peeked out from her mask.

Privi was looking at Finn warily. "I'm almost afraid to ask. How often is that?"

"Pretty much Thursday through Monday." Finn paused. "And the occasional Wednesday. Tuesday is trash-disco night at Wet Heaven."

Privi shook her head and disappeared without a word.

Lara put the mask back in place and grinned. "You drive her crazy."

"I want a Privi," Finn announced in his baby voice.

Lara was appalled. "She's not an object, Finn. She's a person. Privi's been with my family since the day I came home from the hospital."

Finn sighed restlessly.

Lara could tell that his mind had already raced on to another subject.

"I can't wait for Mio and Mako's party. You've seen them up close. Do you think they've had work done?"

The mere mention of the Kometanis produced a surge of anxiety. "Oh, God, Finn, please don't mention anything about work. Between Joaquin and this debilitating condition right now, I'm so far behind it's unthinkable."

Finn rambled on. "I heard one of those gossipy Japanese TV shows reported that they were actually in their late twenties, and that they got the idea from the Jennifer North character in
Valley of the Dolls."

"Oh, that's ridiculous," Lara said. "That's a thick book. I honestly don't think they would have the attention span to get through it."

Finn sighed again. "What would you do if Dean Paul got divorced?"

Lara removed her mask and stared at her friend. "Where did that come from?"

"His marriage won't make it," Finn said. "And it will go down as one of the most inexplicable unions in history. Like Julia Roberts and Lyle Lovett." One beat. "Robert Evans and Catherine Oxenberg." Another beat. "Carmen Electra and Dennis Rodman."

"Okay, Finn. I get the point."

"Wait. I've got one more. Drew Barrymore and Tom Green."

Lara decided to play. What else could she do? "Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley."

"Doesn't count," Finn said. "Anything associated with Michael Jackson was inexplicable."

"I give up then. Anyway, it hurts too much to think."

"So you never said. What would you do?" Finn asked.

They were back to the subject of Dean Paul. Wearily, Lara reapplied the gel mask. "I don't know, Finn. I suppose I would just hope that Aspen didn't get my wedding gift in the settlement. I spent two hundred dollars on that vase. It's a gorgeous Raku piece."

"That's no kind of answer."

"It's the only one I can come up with right now." But the question was stuck in her brain.

"Could you handle the idea of being his second wife?"

"I don't care if Dean Paul gets divorced tomorrow. I'm not going to marry him. Ever."

"Why not? You still love him. And he still loves you. That fling with Joaquin drove him insane."

"And now that it's over, he'll probably lose interest again."

"I just think—"

"Finn, if I had the strength, I would push you off the bed."

There was a long silence.

Lara broke it with a confession that surprised even her. "I'll always love Dean Paul. But it's a painful kind of love, because I know it will never be realized. Not because of me but because of him. I can't trust him with it. He means well . . . but at the end of the day . . . I think he's incapable of loving one woman. Last night when he and Babe walked into Gabrielle's hotel room . . . oh, God . . . all of that history flashed before my eyes. For a moment, I was back at Brown. Seeing them on campus together for the first time after their liaison at the Biltmore. I can't ever go back there, Finn. I just can't. It's too risky. I could never truly relax being with Dean Paul. His devotion to me wouldn't last. Not in the purest sense. I'm not enough for him. Maybe no woman is. He would probably always come back to me, but I'm not willing to settle for that. Why should I? I'd just end up hating him in the end. I feel sorry for any girl who decides that he's the one. There will always be a Babe on the horizon. Two nights at the Biltmore that change everything. I won't live that way. But I'll still measure every man I meet against him. Isn't that pathetic?"