“What did you think?” Arlena asked.
“Cool clothes,” Sam said. “But what’s with the dog collars? I hope that’s not a new trend costume designers will start making us wear.”
“Not sure,” Arlena said, tapping her fingernails on her martini glass. “We’ll have to ask Sienna what she was trying to convey.”
Randall chuckled. “I never thought I’d see the day Max would be put on a leash.”
“Maybe she’s commenting on gender roles,” Penelope said. “We think it’s funny, but if the roles were reversed…a lot of people would be offended if they saw female models on leashes being led around by a male designer.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Joey said. “I figure she’s trying to make a point about something, I just don’t quite get it.”
“Who cares?” Randall said, shaking his head. “The more important question is…who wants a drink?”
Chapter 4
“How did I do?” Max asked. He stood next to Randall, and Penelope noticed Max resembled his father even more than usual, each with their long hair slicked back. Max was a little shorter, but there was no mistaking they were father and son.
Max had changed into casual dress pants and a simple white shirt, but the diamond-studded dog collar still glittered around his neck. He held the neck of a beer bottle loosely between his fingers.
“You did good, kid,” Randall said, patting him on the back.
“Thanks, Dad.” He was much jitterier than usual, almost vibrating with excitement.
Hannah Devore sauntered up, tucked herself under Max’s arm, and smiled shyly at the group. She was Max’s girlfriend on his reality show, which sometimes bled over into real life. Penelope wasn’t sure how they really felt about each other. Sometimes Max said their relationship was just a part of the show, but sometimes he talked about them doing things together outside of work.
“I didn’t see you in the audience earlier, Hannah,” Arlena said.
Hannah giggled and tucked a loose strand of blond hair back under her slouchy knit hat. “I was backstage, helping them get ready.” She accepted a glass of white wine from Max. Penelope’s stomach did a flip when she recognized the jade ring on Hannah’s third finger. She’d seen it in the bathroom, entangled in another man’s hair.
“Is that…” Penelope stammered, gazing at Hannah’s ring. Pulling herself together, she continued, “Are those real diamonds?” dragging her eyes from Hannah to Max and pretending to take a closer look at his dog collar.
“Yeah,” Max said, with a note of disbelief. “Sienna had them custom made for the show. I get to keep mine as a thank you.”
Randall chuckled, hooking a finger under the collar to see how tight it was. “A diamond-studded dog collar for a man. Now I’ve seen everything.”
Max gave Hannah a squeeze, then waved to someone behind them. “There’s Christian.” The man Penelope had seen making out with Hannah in the bathroom approached the bar. He had changed into jeans and a blue dress shirt unbuttoned to his belt. Penelope wondered if he always wore clothes that showed off his intricate cross tattoo. Max made introductions all around. When Christian went to shake hands with Penelope, she averted her eyes and murmured, “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s so wonderful to finally meet you all. Max has said such nice things,” Christian said. He had the same nervous energy as Max, seeming to vibrate even though he was standing still. Penelope wondered if it was performance nerves or guilt stemming from making out with Max’s girlfriend. Penelope watched Hannah silently study her wineglass as he spoke.
Another one of the models from the show made his way over to them, standing behind Christian and waving at the busy bartender. “Hanging at your place again tonight?” he said loudly to Christian.
“Yeah, man. We always do,” Christian responded. “Guys, this is Jesse.”
“Are we going straight there or hitting another club first?” Max asked, finishing his beer.
“Another club?” Arlena asked.
“We’re standing in a club,” Randall said, waving at the crowd in the main room. Loud music began playing and several people headed to the dance floor.
“A different club, Dad,” Max said. “Christian can get us in anywhere.”
Randall laughed and finished his martini. “That’s nice, son, but I can get in anywhere I want.”
Joey placed his hand on Penelope’s back and whispered in her ear, “You wanna get out of here?”
“Yes,” Penelope said, kissing him before turning back to her friends. “We’re going to head out.”
Sienna floated over, dressed in a black pantsuit, long blond hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
“I’m so pleased you were all able to make it. Max was a dream to work with,” Sienna said graciously, her British accent clipping her words.
“Congratulations on a perfect debut,” Arlena said. “I’m so proud of you, Sienna.”
“I appreciate that. I do think it came off okay.”
One of the butlers sidled up to Sienna and whispered something in her ear. A brief look of alarm crossed her face before she regained her composure. “So sorry, I must run. Yet another crisis. You’ll excuse me, won’t you? Arlena, I’ll be in touch soon about that thing we discussed.” Sienna hurried off, the butler ushering her away.
“Are we ready to go?” Max asked.
“Absolutely. Let’s go to Hydra,” Christian said. “It will be packed, but we won’t have to wait in line. They still owe me, so we’ll get bottle service.”
“Owe you?” Max asked.
“I did some free promo for them to welcome them to the neighborhood, brought some of my best faces.”
“You have to call me the next time you’re opening a club. I’ll be one of your faces,” Max said.
“What are you talking about?” Arlena asked.
“Christian is a club promoter. Owners hire him to bring models to openings to create buzz, let people know what the new hot spots are.”
“All bought and paid for,” Randall said, shaking his head. “Really great places earn their reputations over time.”
“They’ve figured out a faster way to get people in the door. They just follow you around,” Arlena said to Christian.
“How do you get hired for something like that?” Max asked.
“The jobs come through my agency, and then I coordinate the models. I end up going out a few times a week. Who’s coming?”
“You guys go on ahead,” Randall said, glancing over the crowd. Penelope followed his gaze to see if he was eyeing anyone in particular but couldn’t tell for sure. “I haven’t been here in a while. I’m going to see if my name is still on the wall in the men’s room.”
“Daddy, please be good,” Arlena said.
Chapter 5
Penelope’s high heels tapped the sidewalk as she and Joey strolled through the streets of lower Manhattan, her head still buzzing from the music at Xapa.
She placed her hand in the crook of Joey’s arm as they walked, glancing up occasionally at the apartment buildings when the bluish glow of a television caught her eye.
“You’re being quiet,” Joey said after they’d walked a few blocks.
Penelope shook her head and squeezed his arm. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be. I saw something back at the club, but I’m not sure if I really saw what I think I saw. I don’t know.”
“Anything I can help with?” Joey asked, a note of concern entering his voice.
“No, it’s not important. It’s not even any of my business.”
“That’s cryptic,” Joey said, smiling at her as they paused at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn.
Penelope sighed. “Sorry, it’s just, I saw Max’s girlfriend making out with that other model Christian when I went to the bathroom.”
“So?” Joey asked.<
br />
“Right. It’s nothing. Forget it.” She looked up at the street sign and saw they were standing on the corner of Mulberry and Broome.
“Is he serious about this girl, to the point you feel obligated to say something to him about what you saw?” Joey asked.
“No,” Penelope said quickly. “When you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous. I shouldn’t interfere.” Penelope regretted bringing it up in the first place, and quickly changed the subject. “Where are we headed, Detective?”
Joey relented, his arm relaxing under her touch. “It’s a surprise.”
When they turned the corner onto Mulberry, Italian flags hung from the buildings and the smell of roasted tomatoes permeated the air. They walked past a few butcher shops and delis that were closed for the day but still had lengths of salami hanging in the windows.
“Wow, Little Italy,” Penelope said. “I haven’t been down here in years.”
“It’s not what it used to be, but there are still a few good spots. You hungry? I thought we could get a late supper.”
“Definitely,” Penelope said as they stopped in front of a small restaurant with a crescent-shaped sign that read Luna Ristorante, which, despite the late hour, bustled with diners. The tablecloths were slick red and white checkerboard plastic, and each of them had a large carafe of red wine in the center next to bottles of olive oil.
They were led to a table in the center of the room with two bright blue ladder-backed chairs. As Joey took the seat opposite Penelope and settled in, their waiter said, “Welcome to Luna. Please, have some wine,” he motioned to the carafe on the table, “and take your time to decide what you’d like.” He pointed at a large chalkboard on the wall. Several options were available for the evening, ranging from simple spaghetti to eggplant parmesan and Italian seafood stew. After a quick bow he backed away from the table, being careful not to bump the patrons who sat right next to them.
“They don’t use printed menus here because it’s different every day,” Joey said, squinting at the wall.
Joey poured them each some wine. When the waiter returned after a few minutes they made their dinner orders, seafood stew for Joey and Bronzino Livarnese for Penelope.
“How did you find this place?” Penelope asked, after the waiter had stepped away.
“I’ve been coming here since we were kids,” Joey said, tearing into a garlic knot from the bowl on the table. “My parents love this place. Nine times out of ten when they come into the city, they stop at Luna for dinner.”
“How are your parents doing?” Penelope asked.
“Good. Still in the same house in Jersey,” Joey said. He took a quick sip of wine. “Actually, I was wondering…” He trailed off, his cheeks reddening under his dark stubble.
“What?” Penelope said, placing a hand over his.
“Maybe you don’t want to, but I was wondering if you’d like to come over one weekend so they could say hello.” He picked up the bottle of wine and busied himself with refilling their tumblers.
“Yes, of course. I’d love to see them again.”
Joey relaxed a bit. “They remember you from back when we were kids, and I mentioned we were friends again. They said you should come by for dinner one night.”
Penelope’s heart sank but she managed a smile. “That would be nice. Your parents were always so nice to all the kids on the block.”
“Ma loves kids. She’s still sad that we all grew up and moved away.”
Penelope took a sip of wine and thought about what to say next. She mulled over Joey’s comment about them being “friends,” when she considered them much more than that. Before she could think of anything to say, their waiter reappeared and placed their dinners down in front of them.
Joey rubbed his palms together. “You have to try some of this stew. It has to cool down a minute though.”
Penelope took a bite of her fish, which tasted amazing and was perfectly cooked. “How do you want to get back to Jersey? Do you want to take a train or try and make the last ferry to Hoboken?”
Joey picked up his spoon and stirred his stew a bit, releasing steam into the air. “I have another surprise for you, Penny Blue.”
Penelope’s fork paused on its way to her mouth. “What’s that?”
Joey’s cheeks reddened once again, either from embarrassment or from the Chianti. “I booked us a room at Tribeca Loft. I thought we could spend some time in the city, maybe take a walk in the park or hit a museum tomorrow. That’s why I didn’t ride in with you guys. I packed some of our things and dropped them off before I got to the club.”
Penelope took the bite of her fish and swallowed. “The Tribeca Loft? That’s pretty fancy. Do you take all of your friends there?”
Joey looked at her, his expression morphing from hopeful expectation to confusion and finally understanding. He chuckled and said in a low voice, “Penny, you know how I feel about you. I told my ma we’re friends because you can’t imagine the interrogation I’d have to go through if I told her we were dating. I’m not ready for that horror show.”
Penelope took another bite and leveled her gaze, chewing slowly, not responding.
Joey looked around them nervously, hoping none of their fellow diners were picking up on their conversation. “Penny, come on. Italian mothers and their sons? You don’t even wanna know.” He shifted in his chair and picked up the carafe of wine again, his shoulders sagging when he saw it was almost empty.
As if on cue the waiter approached with a replacement carafe, swiftly setting it down and swapping out the empty one without saying a word.
Penelope continued to stare at Joey, betraying no emotion on her face.
“I know it must sound like I don’t want to tell them about you. Which is true, but not for the reason you’re probably thinking. My kid brother brought a girl home who wasn’t from the neighborhood and they acted as if the world was ending. I don’t want them to make you feel bad, because I really care about you, Penny Blue.” A pleading note had entered his voice.
Penelope relented a bit and put down her fork, folding her hands in her lap. She chewed the inside of her cheek for a few seconds before saying, “I am from the neighborhood, remember? At least I used to be.”
Joey sighed, relieved she was talking again. “Yes, that’s true. You’re not Italian though.”
Penelope rolled her eyes. “Really? Joey, it’s not 1950. Do you honestly think your parents are going to disapprove of me because I’m not Italian?”
Joey laughed nervously and glanced around them again. “This restaurant has been here since before they were born and this is their regular joint. My parents are really old school, Penny. But you’re right. I should be honest and tell them about us. So pick a day and we’ll go for dinner.” He picked up his spoon and, with a sense of finality, took a bite of stew.
Penelope watched him chew for a bit. After a full minute of silence she said, “How do you feel about me, Joey?”
“Hmm?” Joey said looking up from his bowl, his mouth full.
“You said ‘you know how I feel about you,’ but I want to hear you tell me how you feel about me in your own words.” Penelope braced herself for his answer, hoping she wasn’t going to be very disappointed in the next minute.
Joey appeared to search for something on the tablecloth in front of him before raising his eyes to hers. “Obviously, I’m in love with you.”
Penelope’s heart did a quick series of beats and she took a deep, silent breath. “Good. I feel the same way.”
Chapter 6
The buzzing inside Penelope’s head kept getting louder as she tried to find the restrooms at the end of the dark hallway inside Xapa. This time there were multiple doors on either side, and the hallway was endless, falling off into blackness beyond where she could see. She knew Joey was behind one of the doors, but she couldn’t remember how to find him. She sto
pped at one on the right and pushed. It swung open and she fell forward into the room, the earth dropping away below her feet. She fell through the floor, which had somehow turned to liquid, into a hidden room below. Her parents were waiting for her at their old dining room table, and sitting across from them were Joey’s parents. They were all still young and pretending to eat invisible food from empty plates.
Penelope sat straight up in bed in the hotel room. She cleared her throat and looked around, raising a hand to her forehead to fend off the hammer that had started pounding there. An ice bucket holding an empty champagne bottle sweated on the table next to two half-filled flutes. Looking through the gap in the curtains she could tell it was still dark outside. Joey was lying next to her on his stomach, snoring quietly.
Penelope stumbled out of bed towards the ornately carved wall unit and mini refrigerator. She drank most of a bottle of water, swaying on her feet, her long t-shirt brushing her legs just above the knees.
She heard the buzzing sound again from her dream, but this time recognized it as her phone ringing. She retrieved her phone from one of the club chairs and glanced at the screen. She saw she had a missed call from Max and a three-minute voicemail, time-stamped at three fifteen in the morning.
“What the heck, Max?” Penelope whispered. She tapped the screen to listen to the voicemail, pulling aside the heavy curtain to glance down at the street, the asphalt slick with rain. A single yellow cab bounced slowly down the avenue, its for-hire lamp blurred by the raindrops on the hotel window.
Penelope closed her eyes and shook her head as she realized Max must have called her accidentally. The voicemail was just background noises and thumping sounds, like the phone was in his pocket. “I can’t believe Max butt-dialed me at three in the morning,” Penelope murmured. She turned her attention back to the voicemail when she heard a woman with a British accent talking and laughing in the background, then what sounded like a door slamming. Penelope rolled her eyes and thought about Hannah, Max’s cute little girlfriend from his reality show. She had already decided what Hannah did with Christian, or with Max, or with both of them, was none of her business. The dating world had changed dramatically in the short amount of time since Penelope had been their age. Maybe everyone really did date in groups now. She glanced at Joey sleeping soundly on the bed, the white bedsheets twisted around his calves.
MURDER ON A DESIGNER DIET Page 3
