Everyone Worth Knowing

My phone rang just as everyone began arguing about whether or not Kelly had already had her eyes done at the ripe old age of thirty-four, and although I scrambled to silence it, I realized that this crowd not only didn’t mind if I answered it, they expected as much.

‘Bette, hey, how are you?’

It was Michael, and he sounded slightly confused.

‘Michael, honey, how are you?’ Honey? I’d let it slip without even realizing it. The table looked on curiously, none more so than Penelope. ‘Honey?’ I saw her mouth at me questioningly.

‘Honey?’ Michael laughed on the other end. ‘What, are you drunk? I got released early! Tell me where you are and I’ll come meet you.’

I laughed ingratiatingly, totally unable to picture Michael, who was a dead ringer for Jon Cryer, punning in his sweetly dorky way as Davide waxed on about the villa they’d just rented in Sardinia for next August. ‘I’m at dinner with a few colleagues, but we’ll be finished here in an hour or so. Can I call you when I get home?’

‘Sure,’ he said, sounding even more confused. ‘Call me on my land line, though, because my cell’s out of battery.’

‘Talk to you then.’ I clicked the phone shut.

‘Was that our Michael?’ Penelope asked, clearly curious.

‘Who was thaaaaaaaat?’ Elisa asked, leaning hungrily across the table. ‘Love interest? Hot manager from the bank? Unresolved feelings that can finally be acknowledged because you no longer work together? Do tell!’

And even though the thought of having sex with Michael was less appealing than sleeping with my own uncle and Michael was madly in love with his sweet and adorable girlfriend and Penelope knew full well that Michael and I had absolutely nothing between us, I went with it. ‘Um, something like that,’ I said, deliberately looking down while the table’s attention focused on me for the first time all evening. ‘We’re, uh, just figuring things out now.’

‘Ooh,’ Elisa squealed. ‘I just knew it! Make sure Kelly adds him to The List so he can bring all his gorgeous banker friends to the events! What fun. Let’s have a toast! To Bette and her new boyfriend!’

‘Well, he’s not exactly my—’

‘To Bette!’ everyone chorused, raising wineglasses and clinking. Penelope raised her glass but stared straight ahead. They all sipped. I gulped and nudged Penelope. Blessedly, everything started to get a little fuzzy around dessert.

‘So I spoke to Amy and she said we’re good for Bungalow tonight,’ Leo announced, brushing his flawlessly highlighted hair away from his eyes. So far I’d heard them discuss the best places in the city to get a facial, the really stylish new men’s flip-flops at John Varvatos, and how annoying it was when their favorite Pilates instructor started class ten minutes late. And only Leo was gay.

‘Bungalow? Is that Bungalow 8?’ I asked, my usual filter having been relaxed by the free-flowing wine.

Conversation slammed to a halt and four perfectly groomed and/or made-up faces swiveled toward me. It was finally Skye who summoned the strength to withstand the burden of my question.

‘Yes,’ she said quietly, refusing to make eye contact, clearly humiliated for me. ‘Amy Sacco owns Bungalow 8 and Lot 61 and is a very good friend of Kelly’s. We’re all on the list for tonight, which is the best party of the week.’

Everyone nodded.

‘I’m game for whatever,’ Davide said, playing with Elisa’s hair. ‘As long as it’s guaranteed we’ll have a table. Can’t deal otherwise – not tonight.’

‘Obviously,’ Elisa agreed.

When the check came it was already well after midnight, and even though Penelope was chatting amicably with Leo, I could tell she was dying to get home. But Bungalow sounded like fun, so I shot her a few significant looks and left for the bathroom, where I waited for her to meet me.

‘What a nice night,’ she said neutrally.

‘Yeah, they’re cool, aren’t they? Something different.’

‘Definitely. Hey, I hope you don’t mind if I cut out early,’ she said, sounding more than a little distant.

‘Is everything okay? What’s wrong?’

‘No, nothing at all. It’s just kind of late and I’m not sure I’m up for, uh, for a club. Avery and I agreed to meet at home tonight, so I’d better get going. Whatever, dinner was great. I think I’m just tired, but you go and have a good time, okay?’

‘Are you sure? I could just as easily share a cab home and go to sleep. I’m not sure I’m up for it, either,’ I offered, but she saved me the trouble.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Go and have fun for both of us.’

We walked back to the group and took our seats again, where what I hoped would be a final bottle of wine was making its way around the table. When the waiter presented the check with a flourish to no one in particular, I inhaled sharply. A quick mental calculation told me that I would owe somewhere in the neighborhood of $250. But apparently splitting the bill wasn’t an option because Davide reached for the little leather folder and nonchalantly announced, ‘I’ve got this one.’

No one blinked or even attempted to argue with him.

He slipped a jet-black credit card into the folder and handed it to the waiter. There it was, the mythical American Express Black Card, available by invitation only to those who charged a minimum of $150,000 a year. I had only just learned about it myself. It was mentioned in a blind item, as in, ‘Who needs a Black Card when she has a daddy with bottomless bank accounts?’ in reference to an anonymous socialite’s daughter. No one else appeared the least bit interested.

‘We ready?’ Elisa asked, smoothing her dress over her adorable little hips. ‘We’ll need two cabs. Leo and Skye, why don’t you grab the first one? Davide, Bette, Penelope, and I will meet you there. If you get there first, I’d prefer the table closest to the bar on the left, okay?’

‘Oh, listen, I think I’m going to head home,’ Penelope said. ‘Dinner was great, but I’ve got to be at work early tomorrow. It was so nice meeting all of you.’

‘Penelope! You absolutely cannot go home. The night is just beginning! Come on, it’s going to be a great party,’ Elisa shrieked.

Penelope smiled. ‘I’d love to, really I would, but I just can’t tonight.’ She grabbed her coat, gave me a quick hug good-bye, and waved to the rest of the table. ‘Davide, thank you for dinner. It was so nice meeting all of you,’ she said, and before I could tell her that I’d call her later, she was gone.

We all stumbled into our preassigned cabs while I managed to nod and make hmm sounds at the appropriate times. It wasn’t until we were actually standing outside the velvet rope at Bungalow 8 that I realized I was slightly drunk from dinner and, having almost no experience whatsoever with remotely cool nightspots, was in a perfect position to do or say something really, really humiliating.

‘Elisa, I think I better head out,’ I said feebly. ‘I’m not feeling great, and I need to be up early tomorrow for—’

She emitted a high-pitched shriek and her sunken face came alive. ‘Bette! You’ve got to be joking! You’re practically a Bungalow virgin and we’re already here. Going out is part of your job now, just remember that!’

I was semi-aware that the thirty or so people in line – mostly guys – were staring at us, but Elisa didn’t seem to care. Davide was doing some sort of clap-high-five-knuckle-bumping greeting with one of the bouncers, and I found that I was incapable of anything but the path of least resistance.

‘Sure,’ I muttered weakly. ‘Sounds great.’

‘Sammy, we’re on Amy’s list tonight,’ Elisa announced confidently to Davide’s bouncer. He was about six-three, two hundred twenty pounds, and happened to be the exact same guy who’d been working the door the night of Penelope’s party. He didn’t appear to be particularly amused by the chaos at the door, but as soon as Elisa unwrapped herself from him, he said, ‘Of course, Elisa. How many of you are there? Come on in. I’ll have the manager get you a good table.’

‘Great, honey, thanks so much.’ She pecked him on the cheek and grabbed my elbow, leaning in close to whisper in my ear: ‘These guys think they’re special, but no one would ever even talk to them if they weren’t working the door here.’

I nodded, hoping he didn’t hear us, even if he did deserve it. I glanced up and saw him peering back at me.

‘Hey,’ Sammy said, nodding at me in recognition.

‘Hey,’ I replied cleverly, managing to refrain from pointing out that he didn’t appear to have a problem letting me in tonight. ‘Thanks for that umbrella.’

But he didn’t hear me; he’d already turned away to rehook the red velvet rope and announce to the remaining hordes that their time had not yet arrived. He said something into his walkie-talkie and pulled open the door. We cruised past the coat check and were immediately enveloped in a cloud of smoke.

‘How do you know him?’ Elisa asked as Davide greeted everyone within a twenty-foot radius.

‘Who?’

‘The door loser.’