An hour later, Abby and Chester returned home, both energized from their long walk. Chester’s tongue lolled to one side as he followed her to the kitchen, where his water bowl was full of fresh water. It only took him a minute to lap it all up. Thirsty herself, Abby reached for a bottle of water and chugged it down. Glancing at the clock on the stove, she saw she had an hour to shower and dress before Chris arrived.
Not one to waste time, Abby sprinted to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped beneath the spray. She washed her hair with grapefruit-scented shampoo, filled a mesh shower sponge with a gardenia-scented body wash, scrubbed down, then stood under the spray, letting the soap bubbles spiral down the drain.
Turbaning her wet hair in a towel and wrapping another around her body, Abby stepped inside her closet to find something appropriate to wear for the evening. She spied a black Versace sheath dress, a birthday gift from her mother last year. Removing it from the hanger, she draped it in front of her, then stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door. Not bad, but Chris might view her as prissy and uptight in a dress like that. A good-girl dress. She tossed the dress on the bed. A good girl she was not, at least not tonight. She didn’t want Chris to think of her as his sassy-ass little stepsister. She wanted him to look at her as though she were one of those starlets who clung to him all the time. Just not in a bimboish way. Damn, what the hell was she thinking? She was preparing to have dinner with her mother and godmothers, and here she was worrying about what she should wear. Actually, the black dress was perfect. She’d wear her pearls and open-toed high-heeled sandals. The decision made, Abby made fast work of blow-drying her hair. For once, she went full glamour girl and applied makeup with a professional hand. When she’d finished, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. Her coworkers often said she was a mirror image of Meg Ryan. Bullshit. She made Meg Ryan look like an old warhorse trying to play an ingenue.
Chapter 16
Toots decked herself out in a teal skirt with a matching blouse and silver sandals. She piled her thick chestnut hair on top of her head and clipped a pair of diamond studs on her ears before adding a touch of cover-up to hide the circles forming beneath her eyes. She finished up by dusting blush across her high cheekbones. She looked at the shimmering bronze lipstick, then smacked her lips in satisfaction. The mirror told her this was as good as it was going to get. At the sterling age of sixty-five, she felt like she had traveled into another time zone. She didn’t expect to look like Kate Hudson; well, maybe her mother, Goldie Hawn. She promised herself she would try to sleep in tomorrow but knew her biological clock wouldn’t care if it was two in the morning or not. Didn’t matter. She was here where she wanted to be, surrounded by those she loved most.
Mavis, Sophie, and she had spent an hour getting a massage and a facial. Ida had opted to remain behind, cleaning and disinfecting everything in the room. She’d called room service twice, asking them for fresh sheets and towels. Toots tried to convince her the ones on the bed were clean, but Ida wouldn’t back down. When Toots had returned from her massage, she made a point to call the front desk, where she spoke to the manager and explained Ida’s problem. While she hated to betray her friend, Toots was afraid if she didn’t explain Ida’s obsessive compulsive disorder, management would get fed up and throw Ida out of the hotel or have her carted straight to the nearest loony bin.
The manager had been more than gracious, saying Ida could have all the fresh linens she needed, and if she wanted to watch while they were being washed, she was welcome to do so. Toots hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Toots picked up her small, sparkly clutch purse, which was supposed to be one of the current fashion trends in Los Angeles, and left the bedroom. The Polo Lounge! How wonderful was that?
Toots took a deep breath and looked around, really seeing the decor for the first time. Her bungalow was elegantly decorated in greens and pinks. The furniture throughout her suite had been custom-made, or so said her housemaid, who came with the package. She had her own private entrance, a formal living room and dining room, a wood-burning fireplace that she was sure had never seen a fire, a kitchen large enough to satisfy anyone with a love of cooking. The appliances were all top of the line, the dishes exquisite. Her bathroom had double sinks, a large Jacuzzi, and the shower was pink Grecian marble. Plush pink towels and luxurious terry bathrobes with matching slippers were in an armoire just waiting to be used. Amenities were placed neatly on the marble countertop. Bath gel, shampoo, and conditioner, along with hand and body lotion. There were even pink toothbrushes and toothpaste with a pink fluoride mouthwash. Pink everything.
The Beverly Hills Hotel was lavish, and so were its prices, but again, she had more money than she knew what to do with, so if she wanted to plunk out five thousand bucks a night, she could. Times four, she thought as she stepped out into the courtyard.
Sophie was waiting for her outside of her own bungalow. “I’ve never seen such luxury. Pinch me. I can’t believe this is real.”
Toots laughed and linked her arm through Sophie’s as they strolled to Mavis’s bungalow. “This is the land of make-believe, remember?”
“I do, and I can’t thank you enough. No one would ever suspect I have a husband at home on his deathbed.” Sophie looked off in the distance.
Toots knew where this was headed. “Sophie, don’t start laying a guilt trip on yourself. I know where you’re coming from, trust me. Guilt does terrible things, and I don’t need to remind you of all the ‘terrible things’ you’ve been through the past thirty years. It’s me, Toots, remember? I want you to relax and enjoy your time here. Who knows when you’ll have to race back to New York to take care of Walter’s final arrangements.” She removed a tissue from her tiny purse and handed it to Sophie.
“I know, but I can’t help thinking about him lying there just waiting to…die. He’s so feebleminded and old. All those years of hard, fast living and the drinking aged him before his time. He was a mean old bastard, wasn’t he?” Sophie asked, tears glistening in her warm brown eyes.
“Yes, he was, and that’s one more reason why I want you to put him out of your mind. At least for tonight. It’s been a long and tiring day for all of us. I think we’ve earned a night of fun. Abby’s bringing Chris with her. I can’t wait for you and the others to meet him. You want a cigarette?”
“I’m dying for one,” Sophie said. Toots removed two Marlboro Lights from her purse, lit them, and gave one to Sophie. How classy was that? Toots burst out laughing.
They continued down the private walkway, the path quiet and tranquil. Surrounded by lush tropical gardens, heavenly scented early-evening air, and glowing from an hour of pampering, Toots wanted to wrap her arms around the moment and hold on tightly for fear it would disappear and she would never experience such bliss again. And there wasn’t a man in sight. Her happiness at this very moment was so great, tears filled her eyes. She took another tissue from her bag and blotted her own eyes.
“Look at you! Crying like a baby. Your mascara’s running.” With her cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, Sophie took the tissue from her hand and wiped the black streaks off Toots’s face. “There. Now let’s stop bawling like two babies. Look at her, would you?” Sophie pointed to Mavis waiting outside her own bungalow. She hurried to greet her.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so…stunning! My God, your hair and makeup are perfect. Well, maybe when you were eighteen! You don’t look like the Mavis I know, you look like a movie star!” Sophie grinned.
Clumsily, Mavis twirled around, showing off her new hairstyle and makeup. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I do kind of feel like Cinderella. I know I’ve said that a hundred times, but I really do feel that way. When I saw myself in the mirror, I wanted to cry. Coco hardly recognized me. I haven’t felt or looked this good in twenty years. I can’t wait to exercise. My housemaid is going to show me the gym tomorrow. She said someone had arranged for me to work with a private trainer. I
can’t imagine who would do such a thing.” Mavis’s clear blue eyes sparkled like two shiny sapphires. She looked at both women. “I had no clue they made such nice clothes for fat women. I feel…” She tipped her head, blushing. “Sexy.” The last word was barely a whisper.
“You are the sexiest retired English teacher I’ve ever seen. The dark green looks fabulous on you,” Sophie commented, then ground her cigarette out on the sidewalk. She picked up the discarded cigarette and stuffed it in her skirt pocket. Toots blinked. When in Rome. Her discarded cigarette went into Sophie’s pocket, too. “We have to think about giving up these things. No one smokes anymore. We’re pariahs.”
“You think about it, and you quit. Don’t include me,” Sophie said sharply.
“Yes, ma’am,” Toots replied meekly.
Mavis ignored the two old friends’ dialogue. “Liz, the woman at the dress shop, knew what would and what wouldn’t work for me. I’ll be forever in her debt.” Mavis wore a deep green tunic top with wide-legged hostess slacks that trimmed at least thirty pounds from her frame. Her new caramel-colored hair and peachy makeup complemented her fair coloring. Toots could see the transformation taking place already.
“Well, I think you both look fantastic.” Toots looked at the slim diamond watch on her wrist. “Let’s see if Ida is ready to venture outside her Clorox cocoon. I don’t want to keep Abby waiting.”
The threesome, dressed in the latest casual finery, promenaded through the winding path leading to Ida’s bungalow, which was situated between towering palm trees and bright pink floral blossoms.
“I’ve never seen such gardens,” Sophie said in awe. “In New York, the only flowers I see are at Joanne’s Market. I’m sure they’re at least three days old when she gets them; she’s an old tightwad if ever there was one. She repackages old meat. It was in all the papers. I wonder if that’s where Ida’s Thomas got hold of that tainted meat that killed him?” Sophie continued to stare at the landscaping. “I wish I had my camera.”
“I’m sure we can purchase one of those throwaways in the gift shop,” Toots offered. “And I can’t see Ida shopping for her own groceries, so I think we can safely rule out Joanne’s Market as the source of Thomas’s poison even though it sounds good. Whatever you do, don’t mention it to Ida. We have enough going on tonight without setting her off.”
Sophie shrugged but promised. Sophie was known to break most of her offhand promises. Toots tried to squelch the prickle of alarm she was feeling.
“Poor Ida. I wish there was some way I could help her,” Mavis said out of the blue. “I want her to feel as good about herself as I do right now. I’m being realistic here.”
“She will. It will just take some time and patience on our part. Now,” Toots said in a low voice, “let’s try to focus on Ida’s positive attributes tonight.” Toots had a mean thought; what exactly were Ida’s positive attributes? They’d never been as close as she, Sophie, and Mavis. Dear departed Jerry, the dud, had always stood between them.
Sophie rapped lightly on the door. Toots and Mavis stood behind her. Sophie was more successful in dealing with Ida than the others for some reason. Another light knock.
“Ida, we know you’re in there. Open up, or I’m going to spit in my hand and force you to hold it,” Sophie snarled.
“Well, that should certainly convince her to open the door,” Toots hissed.
The door opened barely an inch. One blue eye peeked out. “I can’t go. Tell Abby I’m sorry; just go without me.” Ida closed the door. They heard the lock engage.
“It’s her loss,” Sophie stated as she whipped around. “I’m not going to force her to do anything she’s not comfortable doing. At least not yet.”
“Getting her out of New York was a major hurdle, so let’s give her a little more time before we lower the boom on her. She’ll come around,” Toots said. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m starving.”
Proudly, Mavis declared, “I’m not the least bit hungry.”
“You have to eat, dear. We’re just going to make sure what you put in your mouth is healthful.” Toots would give anything for a big bowl of Froot Loops, but she’d wait until breakfast. Somehow she couldn’t see asking the waiters at the Polo Lounge for a bowl of cereal as her entrée.
In her usual no-nonsense-straight-to-the-point way, Sophie said, “I am frigging starving. Can’t you two walk any faster?” she hollered as she raced ahead of them. Mavis plodded along as quickly as her bulk allowed, with Toots trailing closely on her heels. Toots scanned the walkway, making sure no one could see her before she gave Sophie the finger. Mavis laughed at the juvenile display.
When they reached the entrance to the restaurant, Toots entered first since the reservations were in her name. At the hostess stand, she was greeted by a beautiful young Latina with hair as black as night. When she spoke, her accent only added to her dark, sultry beauty. “If you will follow me, please.”
Mavis whispered to Sophie, “I bet she’s a movie star.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so. If she were, she wouldn’t be working here.”
“Maybe it’s for a role.”
“Mavis, get real. Actresses don’t practice for their roles working at the Polo Lounge. I’m sure they work here hoping some bigwig movie producer will spot them and make them Hollywood’s next big star. Or they’re looking for rich husbands.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “You need to start reading the tabloids like Toots. Just don’t get addicted.”
“Wasn’t Lana Turner discovered that way?” Toots tossed over her shoulder.
“I think she was drinking a Coke at a drugstore,” Mavis offered.
They followed the hostess outside to the patio. White wrought-iron tables with forest green cushions and color-coordinated tablecloths were placed closely together across the brickwork. Giant urns held bright pink azaleas. In the center, an old Brazilian pepper tree shadowed several groups of diners. The friends were seated right in the center, where they had a bird’s-eye view of anyone entering the patio. They’d just been seated when Toots saw Abby and Chris heading to their table.
Chapter 17
Toots embraced her daughter in a tight hug, then latched on to Chris. “I’m so thrilled you’re here. I’d like for you to meet Abby’s godmothers.”
Both Mavis and Sophie greeted Chris with enthusiasm. “I’ve heard so much about you through the years,” Mavis said.
“Me, too, but I didn’t realize you were this good-looking,” Sophie gushed as she evaluated Chris.
Chris laughed, a shivery, husky sound, and thanked the ladies for their compliments, his pearly whites glistening.
Chris waited until the women were seated before taking his seat next to Abby. Finding it hard to focus on the here and now with Abby sitting so close to him that he could smell her perfume, something floral and light, he had to force himself to pay attention to the conversation going on around him. He was still trying to deal with the way his heartbeat had quadrupled when Abby had answered the door earlier. He hoped he wasn’t too obvious when he’d sized her up. He’d gone from sweating palms to a burning neck all in two seconds. Abby could hold her own and, compared to the women he’d been dating lately, she was the prize of prizes. He wondered if she knew the effect she had on him. Probably not, since she treated him like a brother. Her dog, Chester, loved him.
“Ida couldn’t force herself to come out of her room. She has OCD,” Toots explained to Chris when Abby asked if her third godmother would be joining them for dinner. “I’ve arranged for her to see a doctor tomorrow. If that doesn’t work, we’re just going to hog-tie her and make her go cold turkey.”
“Everyone is OCD in Hollywood these days. Makes for good tabloid reading.” Chris winked at Abby to show he was teasing. He wished he’d had a chance to have a moment alone with Toots before he picked up Abby. Before leaving his house, he’d received a rather strange message. He didn’t want to alarm Toots or cause her any unnecessary anxiety, but he had a gut feel
ing she wasn’t going to be happy when he told her of his suspicions. All along he’d had a bad feeling that the purchase of The Informer was not going to be as simple as he’d originally thought. He wished now he had acted on those feelings, but feelings were just that, not facts. As a lawyer, he dealt in facts.
A waiter brought the wine list to their table. Chris quickly scanned the selections before settling on a bottle of Pinot Grigio from the Napa Valley.
When the wine was poured, the toasts taken care of, they ordered dinner. Chris did his best to relax and enjoy Abby’s company and Toots’s zany friends. An impossible feat, with Abby sitting so close. Damn, she smelled good, like the first scent of summer. He felt light-headed at her nearness. He did wonder if any of the women suspected what he was feeling.
Chris was only half aware of the typical subdued dinner chatter, glasses clinking, stifled laughter, and the occasional sound of dropped silverware. He did his best to shift into a neutral zone so he could enjoy himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so amused by three older women. They each took turns sharing stories of their youth. He thought it was funny when he saw Abby kicking her mother under the table when Toots brought up her daughter’s first prom.
“Let’s not go there, Mom,” Abby said sharply, then softened her tone. “Please.”
“Oh, come on, Abs, we’re all adults. What happened, Toots?” Chris cajoled. He’d always thought Abby was so totally in control, and the possibility that she wasn’t quite perfect intrigued him.
Toots shook her head. “I’d better not. If Abby wants you to know, she’ll have to be the one to tell you.”
“Thank you, Mom. Now can we talk about something else? By the way, Chris knew the paper was up for sale, can you believe that?”
The Scoop Page 11
