“I’m a Jewish American princess. Me and Diane,” she would exclaim of the Jewish, Belgian-born Diane von Fürstenberg. “Only she is prettier and younger and married a von Fürstenberg. Much higher-quality title than mine was, but my business does more turnover,” she would say with a shrug. “Pffft. And Orlove was the love of my life.” Her eyes would water.
“If only Miles found a profession like this Bobby and Cissy,” she would mutter, eating Poppycock on the sofa from the tin and stroking her diamonds. “You laugh.” She wagged a finger at me. “But I would much prefer he was a dancer on TV than a … loafer.” She would sigh. “Poor Miles. He takes after his father, may he roast in hell. He was handsome, but you know … I should have known better. He had a veak chin. And I cannot abide a man with a veak chin,” she said.
“Bobby De Vries”—she scrutinized me—“your chin is passable, but lucky for you, you have a strong jaw.” She sighed. “I vant you to know,” she said forcefully, “I never, ever vould have hired you if you had a veak chin!” She banged the table.
* * *
Once Miles died, I thought about going into retirement. Soon after helping to plan and execute his funeral, also a Temple Emanu-El affair, I received a call from Jonny and Charlene, who wanted to know if I would consider staying on as a board member (the chill with him had thawed by this time), and Charlene also wanted me to become her personal assistant. Charlene, whom I have come to adore, in many ways is a Nevada-born version of Josephine, and her drive to succeed is admirable. I immediately jumped at the chance, as in this phase in her life she wants direction as opposed to giving me orders, so it’s been quite satisfying. In the last four years I have helped mold and guide her and have used the substantial Herz fortune to help relaunch and, yes, repackage her. Yours truly has helped her with every aspect of her campaign, helping her identify and oversee the finest and chicest decorators as well as couturiers to tone down her gorgeous Las Vegas rump and advise her to not show as much cleavage, as it upsets the ladies who lunch. With the addition of Madame’s fabulous jewel box, Charlene Blake-Herz has become the poster child for nouvelle society. Let’s face it, it’s hard to compete with the name and figure, not to mention the open checkbook, although there are still a few clubs in Palm Beach that cater only to white bread and not rye.
I myself have become, although I hate to admit it, the ultimate walker. I think I put my dear friend Jerome to shame, as no one cuts a better figure in a tuxedo, has better manners, or is known for being a more amusing dinner companion than yours truly. I sometimes even regale the ladies with stories of which Hollywood star I serviced or which (late) member of society enjoyed my lavish attentions between squash games, often inviting me to the steam. Hmm … that’s entertainment. Or as Josephine would say, “That’s YENTA-tainment!”
I am, however, my most lonely in PB. It’s not that I don’t have a young decorator friend or find it boring having dinner at Ta-boo, but I enjoy city life more. This year I did manage to help Charlene and Jonny pull off one final major coup, one that gave us all a great deal of satisfaction and one that we know Josephine is applauding wherever she is.
In one of my shrewdest moves, I managed to help Charlene and Jonny buy the former Constance Gardiner estate, one of the grand Mizner properties that through backdoor channels never came on the open market.
The deal was done through the discreet “bachelor” network. The house was purchased under a corporate name and no one was the wiser until the press broke the news that Mr. and Mrs. Jonny Blake-Herz, the grandson of Josephine Herz, archrival of Constance Gardiner, were now taking possession of the former beauty magnate/society matron’s storied Palm Beach property. It has been, needless to say, a social triumph for the Herzes and not overlooked by social historians and preservationists as well. Especially now that the striped sunroom is decorated in Palm Beach pink-and-green Lashmatic colors with Lilly Pulitzer prints. The name of the estate was immediately changed from Constant Gardens to the chic and clever Malmaison. If one takes the time to do the research, Château de Malmaison was the home of the original empress Josephine de Beauharnais, and the rechristening has a certain wit, if I say so myself, since I named it. And that Lashmatic is still printing money, dispensing bills like an ATM, is a triumph in itself, as the proceeds pay for all the opulent upkeep. Of course, there was an uproar when a rumor surfaced that Jonny and Charlene were going to remove the statue of Constance’s most prized racehorse, Constant Gardiner, and throw it into the trash heap. I, of course, put the rumor to rest and advised Jonny and Charlene to do something much more interesting. We placed the famous Jacques Lipchitz bronze bust of Josephine directly across from the horse sculpture in the topiary garden. Now when guests arrive and are given the tour, Jonny often remarks, “This garden is a testament to the two women who founded the beauty business: my grandmother Josephine, who was the brains behind the business, and the former owner of this house”—as he dramatically points to the horse sculpture—“who was a horse’s ass.” This always gets a laugh or evokes a nervous titter.
It was all très amusant and bucolic until last month, when we heard news that Van Gardiner-Wyke Jr., after living in France for twenty-five years, had moved back to the States with his new wife, the actress Nicole Moiret. Their housewarming party next Saturday night opens the social season, and people are frothing at the mouth for an invitation to their new manse, Gardiner’s Bay. La tout Palm Beach has been invited. My own invitation arrived personally by their houseman. That said, there was no invitation for Jonny and Charlene. Now that the Gardiner-Wykes are back in town, I have a feeling it may not be as tranquil or monotonous in the Palm Beaches as I once thought. Things are about to get interesting again.…
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
In the summer of 2015, I received a surprise call in my office from the incomparable Liz Smith, whom I did not know. She said she was a fan of a controversial column I was writing at the time for The New York Observer on the 1 percent and wanted to meet yours truly for a lunch. “Hurry up, though,” she declared, “I’m ninety-two.” My repast with Liz at Michael’s was thrilling, especially when she declared,”You have the chops. I knew them all—Truman, Dominick, and Tom, and you are a natural observer.” Liz offered me the best thing an aspiring writer could ever receive: a quote for my book and confidence. So, dear Liz. It was oh-so-brief but I did love you.
I also want to thank my agent, Laura Yorke, who has championed me at every turn and whom I adore, love, and respect. I am eternally grateful to the wonderful Elizabeth Beier, executive editor at St. Martin’s Press. Thank you for your extraordinary eye and push. You exemplify the art of editing. My gratitude to Sona Vogel for truly monumental copy editing. Thank you to the legendary Sally Richardson, chairman of St. Martin’s Press, for believing in me. I am so appreciative of my uber publicist and friend Dini Von Mueffling. Thank you for all your wonderful efforts.
I am so very lucky to have a cadre of the most influential and talented authors, directors, and producers who have hopefully helped this man become a novelist through their generosity, advice, and inspiration; Galt Niederhoffer, thank you endlessly for your invaluable guidance; Adriana Trigiani, I sit at your feet; Marisa Acocella Marchetto, I revel in your talents; Wendy Finerman, I am honored by your involvement. Wednesday Martin, Risa Mickenberg, Emanuele Delle Valle, the amazing Venus Williams, and my one-time boss James Patterson, you are all an inspiration to me. And to my business partner and friend the legendary Chris Blackwell, who inspires me regularly with his creativity.
I want to thank my dearest friends whose encouragement gave me strength to write this novel. My chosen Family: Mark Glimcher and Fairfax Dorn, Jay and Amy Kos, Jamie and David Mitchell, Jordan and Stephanie Schur, Patty and Danny Stegman. Thank you, Muffie Potter and Sherrell Aston, Bruce and Maura Brickman, Dustin Cohen, Kevin and Susie Davis, Shoshana and Kenny Dichter, Alexis and Erik Ekstein, Chip and Susie Fisher, Mark and Karen Hauser, Susan Krakower, Stephanie and Ron Kramer, Joseph Klinkov, David Lauren a
nd Lauren Bush Lauren, Agatha and Steve Luczo, Jennifer Miller and Mark Ehret, Rabbi Adam and Sharon Mintz, Joyce and Michael Ostin, Mark E. Pollack, Meg Blakey and Glen Pagan, Robert and Serena Perlman, Ali and Jason Rosenfeld, Lizanne and Barry Rosenstein, Steven and Ilene Sands, Bippy and Jackie Siegal, Andy Spade, Tim Stephenson, Michelle and Howard Swarzman, Charlie and Lauran Walk, Lois Robbins and Andrew Zaro, and all who have been on this incredible journey with me. Thank you to David and Chip for allowing me to make mention of their legendary fathers: Jan Mitchell and Avery Fisher. To my sister, Susan Kirshenbaum Perry, and Rob Perry, Marcia Geier and Fred Geier. And to Aunts Paulette Kirschenbaum and Jackie Kalajian.
Thank you to my assistant, Carol O’Connell, who has been the world’s best sounding board, and my partners at NSG/SWAT, Gerland van Ackere, Joseph Mazzaferro, and Woody Wright.
To my amazing children, Talia, Georgia, and Lucas, work hard and follow your dreams—and don’t ever listen to negativity. And to my wife, best friend, lover, and muse, Dana, this book is dedicated to your incredible intelligence, humor, beauty, and strength. You have made me the best I can be and I love you for it.
Much of this novel was written in my favorite places: GoldenEye in Jamaica, sitting at Ian Fleming’s desk to start the novel; the Beverly Hills Hotel Bungalows and Cabanas; The Quisisana and La Fontelina Beach Club in Capri; Hotel de Russie in Rome; Claridge’s in London; the Hotel du Cap-Ferrat; the Edition Pool in Miami; Ashford Castle in Ireland; and Mozzarella & Vino, Nerai, Nicola’s, Nobu, Candle 79, Cipriani, The Thirsty Scholar, and Via Quadronno in New York City. I draw inspiration from my “places,” a good meal, and all of the wonderful people I have met along the way. Everything, I like to say, is “material.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Richard Kirshenbaum is the author of Madboy and Isn’t That Rich?, based on his popular column in The New York Observer. Kirshenbaum is CEO of NSG/SWAT—a boutique branding and marketing agency whose clients include some of the most celebrated corporations and individuals in today’s landscape—as well as co-founder of SWAT Equity. He lives in New York City with his wife and three children. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraph
Prologue
1. Hollywood Dreams
2. A New Frontier
3. A New World
4. The Art of Listening
5. Lessons in Business
6. Working the Counter
7. The Gardiner Girls
8. The Cotton
9. Staffing Up
10. The Yank
11. Family Secrets
12. A Will and A Way
13. Mickey
14. Something Borrowed
15. London Calling
16. Empress
17. Star Employee
18. New York, New York
19. Palm Beaches
20. The Launch Fizzles
21. The Declaration
22. The Play
23. The Ask
24. The Big Idea
25. Suspicion
26. The Hit
27. Fallout
28. Realization
29. Sweet Revenge
30. City of Angels
31. The Race
32. The Loan
33. Patent Pending
34. The Lash
35. Star-Crossed
36. The Win
37. With the Wind
38. The Visit
39. Sweet Revenge
40. The List
41. Chess
42. Lavender Doors
43. The News
44. Pain and Pleasure
45. Queen Ceecee
46. The Sandbox
47. Newlyweds
48. Broken Glass
49. Miriam
50. Our Love
51. Face-Off
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
ROUGE. Copyright © 2019 by Richard Kirshenbaum. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Michael Storrings
Cover photographs: woman © Elisabeth Ansley/Arcangel; lipstick © Ricwhite / Shutterstock.com
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Kirshenbaum, Richard, 1961- author.
Title: Rouge: a novel of beauty and rivalry / Richard Kirshenbaum.
Description: First edition. | New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2019.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018057651 | ISBN 9781250150950 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250150967 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Cosmetics industry—Fiction. | Beauty, Personal—Fiction. | GSAFD: Suspense fiction
Classification: LCC PS3611.I775 R68 2019|DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018057651
eISBN 9781250150967
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].
First Edition: June 2019
Rouge Page 29
