on.”
“That’s great,” I said. “Which campaign?”
“Luca Luca. They want a whole new approach.”
“Is Adriana A in it?”
“Yeah. She’s a drag. Can I get on now?”
Zach went back to his computer and I went into the bedroom and slumped on the bed. I felt disappointed. I lay there and stared out through the windows. Suddenly the view seemed bleak as hell. It was depressing. I felt like I’d woken up and found myself slap-bang in the middle of a Paul Thomas Anderson movie.
I was beyond embarrassed when I called Daphne two nights later. How could I tell her that Zach had barely said a word to me since we’d arrived? I know he was under a lot of pressure, but as far as going to Brazil and all that was concerned, well, I hadn’t left the Arctic Circle once since we checked into the Chateau. I mean, I’m not saying Luca L. isn’t a big deal, but Zach was acting as though he was about to paint the Sistine Chapel. Honestly, he’d barely let me near him. Whenever I even mentioned sex he’d just say, “Stop harassing me,” or something really mean like that. It reminded me of a couple of times in the past few weeks when I’d suggested sex and he’d complained he was too tired or had a backache or something incredibly tiresome like that. I’d believed him,but maybe he secretly hadn’t wanted to make love. The truth was we hadn’t gone anywhere near Rio for over two weeks. Still, I’d never seen him like this before. He wouldn’t do a thing. When I suggested a drive up South Topanga Canyon to my favorite thrift store, Hidden Treasures (you have to check it out, I swear, you just have to), he refused and went back to working on his ideas for the Luca Luca campaign, which is exactly how he’d spent the last forty-eight hours.
Where had Jude Law gone? This was like being engaged to a different person. The only thing that had stopped me from freaking out was knowing that I had to keep myself together to interview the actress, which I’d done yesterday.
“Daphne!” I wailed when she picked up.
“Get out!” she said. Daphne starts every sentence with “get out.” “What is it?”
“It’s Zach. He’s in this horrible mood. All he’ll do is watch CNN and send e-mails. He’s barely spoken to me since we got here, all because he’s shooting the new Luca Luca campaign with Adriana A. Maybe we should cancel?”
“Get out! You can’t cancel! Bradley’s flown in Le Cirque on the studio’s plane to do the food! Look, about the not talking to you, don’t worry! Bradley hardly ever talks to me. Men are so sexy when they’re brooding and laconic,” said Daphne. “You gottacome tonight, there’s going to be a lot of people who want to know you and you are going to want to know them.”
Zach eventually agreed to go to the party, but only after Daphne called him personally and told him there were going to be a lot of Hollywood mogul types there with “serious” photography collections. Strictly on the q-t, I think Daphne exaggerated a little. She has exactly one friend who collects photography. But then Daphne exaggerates everything, especially her age which she claims is twenty-nine but is closer to thirty-nine. As I got ready that night, I tried to be positive. I mean, one of the brilliant things about a virtually silent fiancé is that you have hours to get dressed, so I wore a terribly complicated Azzedine Alaia hook-and-eye number that takes forever to do up. Even my misgivings about Zach’s sudden personality change couldn’t stop me from being thrilled by the Alaia: there are killer dresses and there are killer dresses by Alaia, which are so killer they’re homicidal. At the last minute Zach threw on a white shirt, jeans, and a beaten-up leather jacket, which completely ruined my appetite in advance. He looked so delicious that I knew Le Cirque’s Symphony of Desserts wouldn’t tempt me at all.
Daphne lives in Beverly Hills in a sprawling Span-ish-style house set in grounds
“That’s great,” I said. “Which campaign?”
“Luca Luca. They want a whole new approach.”
“Is Adriana A in it?”
“Yeah. She’s a drag. Can I get on now?”
Zach went back to his computer and I went into the bedroom and slumped on the bed. I felt disappointed. I lay there and stared out through the windows. Suddenly the view seemed bleak as hell. It was depressing. I felt like I’d woken up and found myself slap-bang in the middle of a Paul Thomas Anderson movie.
I was beyond embarrassed when I called Daphne two nights later. How could I tell her that Zach had barely said a word to me since we’d arrived? I know he was under a lot of pressure, but as far as going to Brazil and all that was concerned, well, I hadn’t left the Arctic Circle once since we checked into the Chateau. I mean, I’m not saying Luca L. isn’t a big deal, but Zach was acting as though he was about to paint the Sistine Chapel. Honestly, he’d barely let me near him. Whenever I even mentioned sex he’d just say, “Stop harassing me,” or something really mean like that. It reminded me of a couple of times in the past few weeks when I’d suggested sex and he’d complained he was too tired or had a backache or something incredibly tiresome like that. I’d believed him,but maybe he secretly hadn’t wanted to make love. The truth was we hadn’t gone anywhere near Rio for over two weeks. Still, I’d never seen him like this before. He wouldn’t do a thing. When I suggested a drive up South Topanga Canyon to my favorite thrift store, Hidden Treasures (you have to check it out, I swear, you just have to), he refused and went back to working on his ideas for the Luca Luca campaign, which is exactly how he’d spent the last forty-eight hours.
Where had Jude Law gone? This was like being engaged to a different person. The only thing that had stopped me from freaking out was knowing that I had to keep myself together to interview the actress, which I’d done yesterday.
“Daphne!” I wailed when she picked up.
“Get out!” she said. Daphne starts every sentence with “get out.” “What is it?”
“It’s Zach. He’s in this horrible mood. All he’ll do is watch CNN and send e-mails. He’s barely spoken to me since we got here, all because he’s shooting the new Luca Luca campaign with Adriana A. Maybe we should cancel?”
“Get out! You can’t cancel! Bradley’s flown in Le Cirque on the studio’s plane to do the food! Look, about the not talking to you, don’t worry! Bradley hardly ever talks to me. Men are so sexy when they’re brooding and laconic,” said Daphne. “You gottacome tonight, there’s going to be a lot of people who want to know you and you are going to want to know them.”
Zach eventually agreed to go to the party, but only after Daphne called him personally and told him there were going to be a lot of Hollywood mogul types there with “serious” photography collections. Strictly on the q-t, I think Daphne exaggerated a little. She has exactly one friend who collects photography. But then Daphne exaggerates everything, especially her age which she claims is twenty-nine but is closer to thirty-nine. As I got ready that night, I tried to be positive. I mean, one of the brilliant things about a virtually silent fiancé is that you have hours to get dressed, so I wore a terribly complicated Azzedine Alaia hook-and-eye number that takes forever to do up. Even my misgivings about Zach’s sudden personality change couldn’t stop me from being thrilled by the Alaia: there are killer dresses and there are killer dresses by Alaia, which are so killer they’re homicidal. At the last minute Zach threw on a white shirt, jeans, and a beaten-up leather jacket, which completely ruined my appetite in advance. He looked so delicious that I knew Le Cirque’s Symphony of Desserts wouldn’t tempt me at all.
Daphne lives in Beverly Hills in a sprawling Span-ish-style house set in grounds
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