The Celebutantes
Authors: Antonio Pagliarulo
Contents
For Krista Marino,
Editor Extraordinaire
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
TO: The Editors,
Social Scene
magazine
FROM: Park Hamilton (and on behalf of my sisters, Madison and Lexington)
RE: Jealousy, Liesâ¦and a little bit of Truth
As you may (or may
not
) know, growing up in front of the world isn't easy. From being secretly photographed in the dressing rooms at Bergdorf Goodmanâthank God I wasn't trying on anything sheerâto fending off reporters by the hundreds, my sisters and I have dealt with it all. We travel daily through the spotlight's dark underbelly and are usually prepared for whatever unpleasant surprises await us. But
nothing
is more irritating than opening up a magazine and reading outright and outlandish lies.
The first fib from your silly gossip column: “Now that celebutante Park Hamilton has made the jump into acting, she'll be able to keep an even closer eye on her man, top Hollywood stud Jeremy Bleu. Several sources working on the set of the big-budget action flick
Short Fuse
tell us that Park took the major role just so she could make certain bad boy Bleu doesn't end up in the cheaters' red zone.”
This has to be the tackiest piece of slop ever written about me. Take note: I am not, nor will I ever be, one of those brainless, boy-obsessed girls who need a guy by their side in order to feel complete. I'm too smart for that. Anyone who thinks I would sustain sixteen-hour days on a movie set just to keep my boyfriend on a leash is sorely mistaken. Acting is in my blood. Remember that gorgeous, incredibly talented woman who won an Oscar, a Tony, an Emmy, and a Golden Globe in the same year? My mother, thank you very much. And I just may follow in her footsteps.
The second lie: “Party princess Lexington Hamilton can get wilder than ever now that her fashion line, Triple Threat, has raked in an additional hundred million dollars for Daddy's empire. Rumor has it that Lex spent the past month jetting from New York to Capri and Paris to Prague with an extensive entourage on the Hamilton private jet. Do nightclubs and champagne inspire the young designer a little too much?”
My sister Lexington might love a party, but she's really only celebrating her success. One hundred million dollars is a good start. That whole business about our private jet crisscrossing the skies just for fun? Ridiculous. Lex happens to be a professional designer, and her frequent trips overseas have everything to do with the first Triple Threat boutique, which will be opening soon on Fifth Avenue. And, for the record, I can name at least ten exceptional artists who are inspired by a cold bottle of Dom Pérignon.
The last little faux pas: “The pretty and proper Madison Hamilton, ruler of the triplet triangle, has shocked many people by carrying on a relationship with fellow celebutante and family foe Theo West, but the biggest shock of all? Sources tell us that Madison recently attended a meeting at the FBI's Manhattan field office, where she learned the newest techniques in fashionable crime fighting. Seems the Avenue girls know their way around the street.”
Haven't you heard? Gold badges make great accessories.
As for now, we're goingâ¦
To the Penthouse
1
When Avenues Collide
T
he Ambassadors for the Arts Luncheon, held annually in the legendary Conrad Suite of the Waldorf-Astoria hotel, had officially begun.
Madison Hamilton rose from her place at the exclusive Michelangelo table and quickly scanned the room. She peered over the ornate floral arrangements that towered like skyscrapers. She glanced past the young violinist playing Bach beside the podium. She even pushed up on her tiptoes to get a clear picture of the L-shaped bar in the far left corner. The latter action made her thirst for a glass of cold champagne, but she immediately decided against it, not wanting to shift her thoughts from the problem at hand.
And it was a big problem.
Her sisters, Park and Lexington, were missing. Or, more specifically, they hadn't yet returned from their impromptu trip to the restroom a half hour ago. How long could it possibly take to reapply lip gloss and blush?
Madison was fuming. She had made it very clear to Park and Lex that there was a schedule to keep. The paparazzi were prancing around the hotel freely, and today's event was surely one of the most important of their lives. In a few short minutes, she, Park, and Lex would be called up to the front of the room by the mayor of New York City to receive their newest honor. The Hamilton triplets were being appointed ambassadors for the arts by the Royal Crown Society of the Americas. Composed of eminent artists, composers, actors, and philanthropists, the society rarely admitted new members; membership was a distinction reserved for only a select handful of people of “superior qualifications.” As ambassadors, Madison, Park, and Lex would be sitting on a committee that had its hands in everything from museum acquisitions to the construction of art-deco hotels and the restoration of historical sites. They would have the chance to arrange exhibitions, support rising artists, and be among the first to view exceptional works of art.
The very idea of standing before a Renoir or Picasso made Madison's heart race. She had a passion for art history and the great master painters. In fact, she had spent many an hour fantasizing about one day being granted a seat at the society's roundtable. To her, there was no greater honor. She belonged there, in the midst of highbrow discussions of Caravaggio and Degas, Titian and Monet. Park and Lex weren't as psyched to be joining the society, but Madison wasn't about to let their lack of interest ruin the most exciting moment of her life.
And it wasn't just their induction into the society that had Madison jittery. It was the fact that she and her sisters would also be unveiling the newest painting by famed artist Tallula Kayson before a very eager crowd. Tallula was
the
artist of the moment, a genius who had already drawn comparisons to many of the modern masters; barely out of high school, she had rocketed to stardom nearly two years ago because of her jarring talent and signature style. Tallula Kayson's paintings weren't just an amalgam of color and delicate brushstrokes; they were mysterious, awe-inspiring creations that seduced the senses. Madison had been dying to meet her ever since two of Tallula's paintings sold for several million dollars. Tallula was brilliant and beautiful and worldly, and Madison wanted to gain her friendship.
But how was she going to accomplish that when her nerves were so on edge?
She stared to her left and saw Mayor Kevin Mayer schmoozing with a young waitress while guzzling from a champagne flute. The mayor was tall and handsome in his Ralph Lauren Black Label suit, but if the rumors were true, he liked women and booze a little too much. On the flip side, he had done an adequate job in public office, supporting many of the city's forgotten neighborhoods and doing away with all those silly parking restrictions on Fifth Avenue. Thanks to him, a girl could now hop out of her limo and run into Saks for a full ten minutes while her driver waited outside. Just off to Mayor Mayer's right was the Kahlo table; Madison spotted her best friend, Coco McKaid, staring aimlessly into spaceâa clear sign that Coco had guzzled her stolen martini too quickly. All the other tables were buzzing as waiters served cocktails and watercress salads. The majority of the guests were quite old: legendary socialites and philanthropists, a few well-known producers. It was a smattering of beyond-Botox wrinkles and shiny canes. Madison recognized a handful of her classmates from St. Cecilia's Prep, but there was still no sign of Park or Lex.
“Madison, dear, are you all right?”
The voice startled her. Madison glanced over at the older woman sitting at the Michelangelo table and sighed inwardly.
Poppy van Lulu was a character in every sense of the word. She was well into her sixties but looked at least ten years younger, courtesy of an excellent plastic surgeon and weekly visits to the Spa at Mandarin Oriental. Her red hair was cut in a blunt bob. Her oval face was caked with makeup. Her waiflike body was wrapped in a too-tight beige dress that made her look like a matchstick.
But it wasn't Poppy's eccentric appearance that instantly annoyed Madison. It was, rather, Poppy's penchant for otherworldly drama.
A well-known psychic to the stars, Poppy had a colorful reputation that stretched from New York to Hong Kong. She had given readings to just about every celebrity on the planet. She even appeared regularly in tabloid magazines, where she dished astrological advice and divined Hollywood's scandalous future. Having married into the powerful and socially elite van Lulu family at twenty-five, Poppy was now one of the wealthiest divorcées in the worldâ
and
one of the most theatrical. She couldn't appear in public without prophesying an actor's secret infidelity or a rock star's imminent journey into rehab.
It irked Madison. She'd met Poppy on several occasions but had always kept a cool distance from the woman. Didn't everyone know that infidelity and rehab were staples of the Hollywood life? There was nothing supernatural about foreseeing the inevitable. It was true that Poppy had accurately predicted the winners of
American Idol
and
America's Next Top Model
every season, but that didn't exactly make her a shaman. Madison didn't believe in psychic phenomena and had little patience for Poppy's behavior.
Madison gave the impish woman a curt nod. “I'm fine, Mrs. van Lulu.”
“Are youâ¦sure?” Poppy asked, the last word merely a whisper.
Madison met Poppy's cloudy, wide-eyed stare. “Yes. Are
you
okay?”
With a dramatic turn of her head, Poppy sat back in her chair and looked across the room at nothing in particular. “I suppose so,” she replied quietly. “But there's such aâ¦strange feeling in the air today.”
Ignoring her, Madison glanced around at the other guests sitting at the Michelangelo table and smiled. She kept her shoulders squared and her head held high. “Please excuse me,” she said softly, reaching for her purse.
Several of the old men pushed back their chairs and stood up in a rare gesture of old-fashioned courtesy. Madison gave them each a graceful nod. Then she locked her eyes on the huge crystal chandelier at the very end of the room and strode toward it. She felt the customary sweep of stares following her. A photographer from the
New York Times
quickly snapped a picture, and Madison hoped he had managed to get a full-body shot. It would be a shame for anyone to miss seeing her in the stunning dress Alexander McQueen had designed especially for her; made from the finest silk, it was canary yellow, off the shoulder, and trimmed in lace. A rare black-diamond necklace from Cartier completed the dramatic but elegant look. Madison had never felt so appropriately gracefulâand so dangerously enragedâin all her life.
She kept the smile plastered on her face until she exited the Conrad Suite. When she stepped into the empty corridor that led to the restrooms, her lips knitted together and her shoulders dropped. She forgot the ladylike sashay and broke into a clumsy jog. If Park and Lex weren't loitering in the vicinity of the toilets, they would end up swimming
in
a toilet when she got done with them.
Behind her, the violinist's last few notes rang on the air.
Crap! Our names will be called in a few minutes.
The urgency hit Madison even harder. And so did the fear of what she might find. The last time she barged into a bathroom, she'd found Park getting a little too comfortable with Jeremy Bleu.
Reaching the restroom door, she curled her fingers around the knob and threw it open. The door slammed against the side wall like a clap of thunder.
“Oh!” The shocked voice belonged to Lex. She was standing against one of the sinks, her cell pressed to her ear. She shot Madison an irritated look, then ran to the opposite end of the room and slammed into a stall.
Madison felt a fresh wave of anger wash over her. “What the
hell
are you doing?” she screamed.
Park, applying a fresh coat of gloss to her lips, stared at Madison in the mirror. “Calm down,” she said. “We're almost done.” She capped the lip gloss and dropped it into her purse.
“Calm down?” Madison ranted. “It's been half an hour! Are you both insane? We're due at the podium in a few minutes!” Her high-pitched voice bounced off the walls, drowning out the echo of Lex's chatter from the last stall.
Park sighed and turned around. She was dressed in an exquisite white Triple Threat suit that matched her waifish fashion tastes. Lex had designed it, but Park had added the man's thick tie that tapered down to her waist. If not for her heels and flowing hair, she might have been mistaken for a skinny guy with expensive taste. “Now, listen to me,” she said calmly. “Lex is on a very important call. She's really trying to hurry it up, butâ”
“I
don't
want to hear it!” Madison snapped. “Nothing is more important than what's happening to us today!”
“That's not necessarily true,” Park replied evenly. “Lex is having square footage issues with the interior designers who are putting together the Triple Threat store. And if these issues aren't resolved soonâ”
Growling, Madison shoved Park to the side and stormed past her. She reached the stall where Lex was holding her conference call and pushed against the door.
It was locked.
“Open up!” Madison screamed, and banged on the door for dramatic effect. “Do you hear me? Get off that phone!”
Lex kept chattering. “Gimme a minute!” she called out.
But Madison was beyond hearing excuses. She took three steps back, carefully pulled her dress up to her thighs, and extended her right leg, black satin heel pointed out like a gun. She took aim and fired.
The kick rattled the door with a boom.
“Whoa!” Lex screamed.
“Get out!” Madison's voice rose to a new level of hysteria. “Get out
right now
or I'll knock the damn door down!”
Park sighed. “Madison, you're going to break out in a sweat, and you know how bad that can be for your complexion. If you don't wash your face right now, you'll clog your pores.”
“I exfoliated this morning,” Madison snapped.
“That might not make a difference.” Park plucked a tissue from the box on the sink and began gently dabbing Madison's forehead, even as Madison gave the door another kick.
“Listen, I'll have to call you back,” Lex said nervously to whomever she was talking to. “I've got a psycho on my hands!”
Five more seconds ticked by. Madison gave the door another karate kick, and this time the force of the blow nearly snapped the lock.
“Oh!” Lex cried. “You total nut!”
“Get out!”
The door swung open.
Madison's upper lip curled in a nasty snarl as she stared at Lex, who was pressed up against one side of the stall. “Ha!” Madison said. “Cornered like a rat!”
Suddenly, Lex bent down and grabbed a plunger from behind the toilet. She held it up like a sword. “Stand back! I'm not afraid to use this!”
“It's rubber,” Park said, running the tissue along Madison's neck. “You're not really going to do any damage with that.”
“I can make a round imprint on your dress!” Lex yelled, jabbing the plunger at Madison. “Seriously, I can! Stand back!”
Madison straightened herself against the sink and clutched her purse tightly. Then she pointed at the gleaming tiled floor. “Get. Out. Here.
Now!
”
Lex gulped. She dropped the plunger and quickly ran out of the stall, taking her place beside Park.
“If Dad were here I'd make him confiscate both of your AmEx cards!” Madison screeched. “A half an hour in hereâwhen everyone is expecting us outside!”
“It was an important call!” Lex shot back. “I just found out the wall treatments for the boutique are too bright, and the flooring isâ”
“I don't care!” Madison continued, her cheeks tomato red. “This is the most important day of our lives, the biggest honor we've ever received. And what do you two do? You ignore it!”
“Nobody's ignoring it,” Park answered gently. “We're here, and we're happy to be here.”
“But I wouldn't exactly call it the
biggest
honor,” Lex added, then just as quickly bit her lip.
Madison gasped. “The Royal Crown Society of the Americas!” she snapped. “Priceless art! Brilliant people! Brilliant artists! There are only fifty ambassadors in the world! Do you
hear
me?”
Lex frowned and cast her eyes downward. “It's not as exciting for me as it is for you, okay? I mean, being appointed ambassadors by the society is very⦔
“Nice,” Park chimed in cheerily.
“Nice,” Lex agreed. “But it doesn't rock my world. I'm glad it makes you happy, Madison, but you can't expect me and Park to pretend it's the realization of our biggest dream or anything like that. Because it's not.”
Madison shook her head disapprovingly. “I should have
known
the two of you wouldn't be able to appreciate something like this. I guess being appointed ambassadors for the arts isn't as lofty as being invited to the Chanel spring collection.”