Lauren Weisberger 3-Book Collection: Everyone Worth Knowing, Chasing Harry Winston, Last Night at Chateau Marmont

Mmm. Penelope nodded seriously in agreement and simultaneously nudged me, and I gnawed the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing. Compared to two minutes ago, Danny was being downright verbose.

‘So, Danny, what gave you the idea for Sanctuary?’ Penelope asked, staring at him with wide, fascinated eyes.

He took a swig from his Stella Artois and peered at her as though he were trying to determine which language she’d just used, his eyes scrunched up in confusion, hand on his crinkled forehead, head shaking slightly from side to side. ‘Dude. Everywhere else is so fucking stressful. The line at Bungalow’s a nightmare and I can’t stand all those fuckin’ media types at Soho House. Figured we all need a place that could be, like, a y’know, what’s the word? A place to chill.’

‘A sanctuary?’ I supplied helpfully.

‘Right on.’ He nodded, obviously relieved. The amount of product in his hair was nothing short of astounding.

Unfortunately, before this fascinating conversation could see itself to its logical end – most likely the one where Danny eventually remembered the name of his own club – I spotted an exceedingly familiar tan.

‘Ohmigod, it’s him,’ I stage-whispered to our motley crew, immediately leaning my head in for both cover and consultation.

Heads turned.

‘Philip. Philip Weston is here. Just walked in with that, that, that model,’ I spat out, not even remotely aware of how insanely jealous I sounded. And looked.

‘Bette, is that jealousy I hear?’ Elisa asked, leaning in to whisper in my ear. ‘And here I thought you were immune to the Weston charms. Good to see you’re a red-blooded American girl after all. Of course, just because you’re interested doesn’t mean he is. …’

‘Dude! Philip! Over here,’ Danny was calling, and before I’d even realized what was happening, Philip was kissing me hello on the mouth.

‘Hi, love, I was hoping you’d be here. You can run, but you can’t hide. …’

‘Pardon?’ was about all I could manage, since at this point I was fairly certain he’d meant to direct both the kiss and comment elsewhere. Like toward the knockout who was patiently waiting about three feet behind him, not looking the least bit distressed about anything.

‘You didn’t leave your number with my doorman. What do you call that here? Playing hard to get. Well, I always fancy a good game, so I decided to play along and find you myself.’

I saw Elisa collapse into the couch behind him, her mouth hanging open quite unattractively, shock flashing across her face.

‘Play along?’ I asked him.

‘Girls don’t exactly flee from me, love, if you know what I’m saying. Hey, mate, may I get a Tanq and tonic?’ he said, addressing Danny as though he were our waiter.

‘Right on, dude, coming right up,’ Danny said, moving as quickly as one might expect only when the offer of drugs or girls was promised.

He turned around when Philip called, ‘And hey, something for Sonja here, too.’ He turned not to me but to the girl with infinite legs. ‘Sonja, doll baby, what can I get for you? Ginger ale? Vegetable juice? Talk to me, honey.’

She stared back, uncomprehending, and I was almost – almost – amused by the idea that Philip had brought along one girl for accompaniment as he pursued another. He was pursuing me, wasn’t he?

Elisa had returned to Davide’s lap, apparently recovered from Philip’s unexpected arrival. I saw her very discreetly remove a small packet of white powder from her seafoam green Balenciaga bag and slip it to Skye, who immediately bolted in the direction of the ladies’ room. Ever resourceful, Elisa then stuck a hand into the bag’s side pocket and distributed a few tablets among the table’s remaining people. Hands simultaneously found their way to mouths, and the mystery pills were quickly washed down with champagne and vodka and what Skye – our very own drink critic – had described as ‘the only decent cosmopolitan in this entire fucking city.’

‘Oh, Pheeeely, I think it will be nice to have the tom-ahto juices, oui?’ Sonja said, biting her lower lip seductively.

‘Hey, y’all, come and play. We’ve got more than enough to go around!’ Elisa called over the Hotel Costes CD that might’ve passed for relaxed lounge music had it not been pumped out at decibels capable of drowning out a 747.

Danny left to fetch drinks for Philip and Sonja, while Penelope tried gamely to make conversation with an ever more wasted Elisa. I just stood there, acutely aware that I looked awkward and dumb, but not really possessing the faculties to move.

‘So, Philip, introduce me to your, uh, your friend,’ I managed, wondering what the protocol was when the guy whose bed you’d recently shared made the effort to track you down with his girlfriend in tow.

‘Sure thing, love. Sonja, this is the smashing creature I was telling you about – the one who turned me down a few weeks ago, if you can believe it. She was completely blotto, of course; it’s the only feasible explanation.’ Sonja nodded, not necessarily comprehending anything. He rapidly switched to French and the only word I managed to catch was name, which I immediately assumed meant he was informing her he didn’t know what mine was.

‘Bette,’ I said, extending my hand to Sonja while ignoring Philip.

‘Son-yaaah.’ She giggled, revealing shiny teeth with absolutely no nicotine stains.

‘Sonja’s folks have entrusted her to me for the week while she interviews at all the agencies,’ he explained in his irritatingly adorable British accent. ‘Our parents have neighboring villas in St Tropez, so she’s always been like a little sister to me. Only fifteen. Can you believe it?’ In all fairness, he was neither leering nor lecherous, but it felt as though he should have been.

I once again found myself in the rather uncomfortable position of being unable to speak or respond with any sort of consistency, and so I was delighted when Penelope announced that she was ready to go.

‘I know we just got here,’ she said quietly in my ear, ‘but this just isn’t my scene. Are you okay here by yourself? Your whole office is here. It should be fine, right?’

‘Pen, don’t be crazy! I’m coming with you,’ I announced, mostly eager for an excuse to leave, with only a hint of desire to stay and talk to Philip.

Danny returned, leading a cocktail waitress over to us. Philip and Sonja received their requested drinks and I was thoughtfully provided with a mini bottle of Piper and a red-striped sipping straw. Penelope received nothing.

‘Here, have a drink before we go,’ I said, and thrust the bottle in her direction.

‘Bette, I’m just done, okay? I really think you should just stay and—’

‘AVERY!’ Elisa shrieked all of a sudden, propelling her emaciated figure off the couch and into the arms of a tall blond guy wearing an aggressively preppy pink shirt. Both Penelope and I turned simultaneously to see her fiancé embracing my coworker as though they’d known one another for years. ‘Come here. Y’all just have to meet my favorite party boy, Avery Wainwright. Avery, this is—’

Apparently the look on both our faces was enough to stop her mid-sentence, a feat I’d never before thought possible.

‘Hey, honey, I didn’t know you were coming here tonight,’ Avery said, extracting himself from Elisa’s signature arm-grip and enveloping Penelope in a rather awkward bear hug.

‘I didn’t know you were, either,’ she said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. ‘You said you were going to dinner with the boys tonight.’

I wished I could scoop up Penelope and whisk her off to the Black Door, where we could drown that yucky feeling – he hadn’t done anything technically wrong, but I knew her stomach was sinking anyway. But there was nothing to do but try and divert attention away from their two-person show.

‘I did go to dinner with the boys. We all went to Sparks, and then most of them wanted to get home, but I decided to check this place out with Rick and Thomas. See, they’re right over there,’ he said quickly, the words tumbling out in the panicky tone of someone who’d just been caught.

Rick and Thomas were, in fact, located where he’d indicated. In the thirty seconds since they’d arrived, a group of very young girls had accepted their invitation to join them at their VIP table and were just beginning to shimmy and dance on the banquette. Penelope looked like she was ready to throw up. I could tell it was coming to her in waves, the realization that if she hadn’t been there, Avery would most likely be grinding against one of those girls right now.

‘Mmm,’ she murmured, watching as Rick and Thomas sandwiched a girl between them and gyrated. ‘I see.’

‘Pen, come here, baby, it’s not like that. They know those girls from work and they’re just being friendly.’

‘Work?’ Her voice was steely and her eyes had turned to ice. Everyone was waiting for a colossal fight, so I began chatting up Elisa, Philip, Danny, and Sonja simultaneously and nudged Penelope to move a few feet away to spare us a scene.

‘So, Sonja, what sort of agencies are you interviewing with?’ I asked, wondering if Philip had perhaps meant ‘schools’ instead. She was really, really young.

‘Oh, you know, the common ones. Elite, Ford, Wilhelmina. Phee-ly says I will make beautiful model.’

‘Sure do, doll. Ever since this one was a mere tyke, trolling around the villa in nappies, I thought she was splendid. Jailbait, but splendid.’ He was now officially leering.

‘Gel-bet? What is gel-bet?’ she asked us both, her eyes crinkling adorably.

‘Nothing, doll. Why don’t you sit right here and look ravishing and let me talk to Betty for a minute, okay?’