invited everywhere together, and everyone wanted to know about the wedding plans. Even the girls at my office were in love with Zach. They’re all smitten with Jude Law, too. And my skin had never looked better.
You can imagine how delighted I was when my editor asked if I wanted to go out to LA for a few daysto interview a famous actress. She sweetly insisted I take the gorgeous fiancé and booked us into a four-room penthouse suite at the Chateau Marmont, the famous one with a grand piano. People are so nice to you when you’re engaged it’s crazy. A whole four days with Zach sounded like bliss: in fact, it would be the longest time we’d spent together since we’d met. I couldn’t wait.
When my friend Daphne Klingerman, who is an actress-turned-professional-wife of a brilliant agent-turned-producer-turned-studio-head, heard I was coming to LA, she e-mailed me from her Blackberry, saying,
Can’t talk am in yoga class can I throw you party in beverly hills?
I can’t imagine what yoga position you can send an
e-mail from, but Daphne has been practicing Ashtanga yoga every day since her last role so I guess she’s an expert because her last role was more than two years ago.
Spring is the best time to be in LA and I totally worship the Chateau Marmont, like everyone else in Hollywood. It always makes me think of Rapunzel’scastle, perched like that just above Sunset Boulevard, with its little turrets peeking serenely above the craziness on the ground. By the time we arrived that night, it was very late. Even so, the lobby was buzzing with the usual super-cool Hollywood kids that favor the Chateau. I wasn’t tempted by the scene: all I wanted to do was get Zach upstairs and take him on a very, very risqué trip somewhere south of the equator.
Our suite was totally sick, in a good way. The sitting room was huge and had two long modern sofas at one end, the grand piano at the other, a huge Art Deco mirror, and a slick, 1950s Italian coffee table in the center of the room. On top of it was an ice bucket containing a bottle of vintage champagne. The bedroom had nothing but a very inviting bed, two silver lamps, miles of stereo equipment, and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, which opened onto a terrace. While Zach tipped the bellboy I stepped out into the evening air, and looked into the Los Angeles night. The view was electric with its millions of lights stretching from Hollywood to the valley. Even though I was exhausted, the suite was so sexy I thought Zach would have no problem going to Brazil all over it and maybe even exploring as far as the Amazonian jungle immediately.
“Zach! Do you want to…hit the rainforest?” I called coyly from the balcony. He was unpacking in the bedroom.
“I’m busy.”
“Hey, come on!” I giggled. “Stop being so boring.”
“Stop being so needy,” he replied, without turning around from the closet.
“Darling, Sting and Trudy visit the rainforest all the time and no one thinks they’re needy,” I said.
Zach didn’t say a thing. He didn’t get the joke at all. He always giggled with me about my silly jokes, but tonight he was different. He said he just wanted me to leave him alone so he could check his e-mails on the Internet, which is a real waste of a four-room suite at the Chateau if you ask me.
By 1 AM Zach still showed no sign of getting into bed. He was frantically typing at his keyboard in the sitting room, with a hostile look on his face. It was like he hadn’t even noticed the view or anything. And as far as I know, men just don’t turn down sex with women, period. When I finally mentioned this to Zach, he turned away from his laptop and looked very annoyed.
“Can you please let me get on with my work for one second?” he huffed.
I suddenly felt shamefully guilty for demanding his attention all night when he was so busy. “I’m sorry. What are you working on?”
“New ad campaign. It’s a lot of money and the pressure’s really
You can imagine how delighted I was when my editor asked if I wanted to go out to LA for a few daysto interview a famous actress. She sweetly insisted I take the gorgeous fiancé and booked us into a four-room penthouse suite at the Chateau Marmont, the famous one with a grand piano. People are so nice to you when you’re engaged it’s crazy. A whole four days with Zach sounded like bliss: in fact, it would be the longest time we’d spent together since we’d met. I couldn’t wait.
When my friend Daphne Klingerman, who is an actress-turned-professional-wife of a brilliant agent-turned-producer-turned-studio-head, heard I was coming to LA, she e-mailed me from her Blackberry, saying,
Can’t talk am in yoga class can I throw you party in beverly hills?
I can’t imagine what yoga position you can send an
e-mail from, but Daphne has been practicing Ashtanga yoga every day since her last role so I guess she’s an expert because her last role was more than two years ago.
Spring is the best time to be in LA and I totally worship the Chateau Marmont, like everyone else in Hollywood. It always makes me think of Rapunzel’scastle, perched like that just above Sunset Boulevard, with its little turrets peeking serenely above the craziness on the ground. By the time we arrived that night, it was very late. Even so, the lobby was buzzing with the usual super-cool Hollywood kids that favor the Chateau. I wasn’t tempted by the scene: all I wanted to do was get Zach upstairs and take him on a very, very risqué trip somewhere south of the equator.
Our suite was totally sick, in a good way. The sitting room was huge and had two long modern sofas at one end, the grand piano at the other, a huge Art Deco mirror, and a slick, 1950s Italian coffee table in the center of the room. On top of it was an ice bucket containing a bottle of vintage champagne. The bedroom had nothing but a very inviting bed, two silver lamps, miles of stereo equipment, and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, which opened onto a terrace. While Zach tipped the bellboy I stepped out into the evening air, and looked into the Los Angeles night. The view was electric with its millions of lights stretching from Hollywood to the valley. Even though I was exhausted, the suite was so sexy I thought Zach would have no problem going to Brazil all over it and maybe even exploring as far as the Amazonian jungle immediately.
“Zach! Do you want to…hit the rainforest?” I called coyly from the balcony. He was unpacking in the bedroom.
“I’m busy.”
“Hey, come on!” I giggled. “Stop being so boring.”
“Stop being so needy,” he replied, without turning around from the closet.
“Darling, Sting and Trudy visit the rainforest all the time and no one thinks they’re needy,” I said.
Zach didn’t say a thing. He didn’t get the joke at all. He always giggled with me about my silly jokes, but tonight he was different. He said he just wanted me to leave him alone so he could check his e-mails on the Internet, which is a real waste of a four-room suite at the Chateau if you ask me.
By 1 AM Zach still showed no sign of getting into bed. He was frantically typing at his keyboard in the sitting room, with a hostile look on his face. It was like he hadn’t even noticed the view or anything. And as far as I know, men just don’t turn down sex with women, period. When I finally mentioned this to Zach, he turned away from his laptop and looked very annoyed.
“Can you please let me get on with my work for one second?” he huffed.
I suddenly felt shamefully guilty for demanding his attention all night when he was so busy. “I’m sorry. What are you working on?”
“New ad campaign. It’s a lot of money and the pressure’s really
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