voluminous napkin and patted her lips. “I’m sure I’ve designed the new ‘It’ bag — each one hand made, sadly by me alone at the moment, but don’t tell — and one of Oprah’s people were in the other day looking at them. And in fact, she bought one.” She smiled like the cat that got the cream
. Hmm, cream …
“Isn’t that interesting,” Lorna sang, and they smirked at each other. This was where they were at their best, and most at home with each other, in their ambitions.
Maria Grazia cleared her throat. “Breaking my own rule — ”
“How unusual.”
“But.
I
wish … Oh, I said we wouldn’t dish Belle and here I go, I am hopeless — ”
“Oh, just go
on
!”
“She’s so talented, but she has no animal instinct, or something. She’s not thinking it through logically. She’s got some romantic image of what being a writer is, and you are right, you are so right, her strength is in, like, living history, remember that series she did on that artist? He’s frickin’ famous now, because she made him famous.”
“And now she’s wasting her time on relics — ”
“Enough, enough. I hate gossiping about friends with other friends, I won’t do it. Shutting up now.”
Lorna sat back and waited. It was part of Maria Grazia’s digestive process to rattle on at length.
“And that Wilson was no help. So patronizing — remember at her birthday, the last one, when he gave her that supremely inappropriate, never mind impersonal, faux leather desk agenda thingie? So crass, not even real leather, and her poor little face, I think she was expecting ‘An Avowal’, as Jane Austen might say. ‘The Ring.’ I know she did. I just know it. She really wanted to marry that stuffed shirt. Bastard. I wonder if she’s heard from him, if he’s looking for post-break-up pity sex, or something. I hope not. She’s not ready to see him. No. You know, I really am convinced that this rupture is a good thing.”
“Oh?” Lorna knew that this was all that was required.
“I just wish she had more energy, I swear that asshole was like a vampire, sucking the life out of her.” She accompanied this with a visual rendering of what she imagined the sucking to look like, using elaborate hand movements. “And that is why all her magick-y stuff is a goddess-send, it’s the only thing he didn’t suck right out of her.” Reprise of hand movements. “I was tempted to drape her door with garlic myself. And he dressed like a clown, a frickin’ banker clown. Dessert?”
• • •
Walking back to Lorna’s office, heads turned in reaction to the both of them. Lorna’s height and Maria Grazia’s curves, each appealing to different strata of the male of the species, meant they had always been each other’s best wing-women. Clearly, even in the swiftly moving Midtown traffic, they still had what it took. Added to their entirely different tastes in said males of the species, their untrammeled ambition, and all the water under years of bridges … well, they understood each other as well as anybody could ever understand another human being, within reason. Frankly, it was seriously annoying Lorna that she suddenly felt she didn’t understand Anna at all.
“All those
bloody
soul mate books warped her brain.”
Maria Grazia flung her hands into the air, and sent a winning smile to the pedestrian she’d almost knocked to the ground. “Leave it alone! So she wants a long-term partner, so what. You and me, we’re simple, we both
don’t
want the same thing. We can support her without having to be like her.”
“I think she needs a … how shall I put this? A rebound.”
They paused outside Lorna’s building. Maria Grazia thought about it.
“I might go there with you on that. Has she ever done that? A one night, drunken, reactionary shag?”
“I think after that wrestler guy, she met some guy in a bar who was, perhaps, a guitar guy or a poet guy. Younger.”
“Younger is key, I think. She has all sorts
. Hmm, cream …
“Isn’t that interesting,” Lorna sang, and they smirked at each other. This was where they were at their best, and most at home with each other, in their ambitions.
Maria Grazia cleared her throat. “Breaking my own rule — ”
“How unusual.”
“But.
I
wish … Oh, I said we wouldn’t dish Belle and here I go, I am hopeless — ”
“Oh, just go
on
!”
“She’s so talented, but she has no animal instinct, or something. She’s not thinking it through logically. She’s got some romantic image of what being a writer is, and you are right, you are so right, her strength is in, like, living history, remember that series she did on that artist? He’s frickin’ famous now, because she made him famous.”
“And now she’s wasting her time on relics — ”
“Enough, enough. I hate gossiping about friends with other friends, I won’t do it. Shutting up now.”
Lorna sat back and waited. It was part of Maria Grazia’s digestive process to rattle on at length.
“And that Wilson was no help. So patronizing — remember at her birthday, the last one, when he gave her that supremely inappropriate, never mind impersonal, faux leather desk agenda thingie? So crass, not even real leather, and her poor little face, I think she was expecting ‘An Avowal’, as Jane Austen might say. ‘The Ring.’ I know she did. I just know it. She really wanted to marry that stuffed shirt. Bastard. I wonder if she’s heard from him, if he’s looking for post-break-up pity sex, or something. I hope not. She’s not ready to see him. No. You know, I really am convinced that this rupture is a good thing.”
“Oh?” Lorna knew that this was all that was required.
“I just wish she had more energy, I swear that asshole was like a vampire, sucking the life out of her.” She accompanied this with a visual rendering of what she imagined the sucking to look like, using elaborate hand movements. “And that is why all her magick-y stuff is a goddess-send, it’s the only thing he didn’t suck right out of her.” Reprise of hand movements. “I was tempted to drape her door with garlic myself. And he dressed like a clown, a frickin’ banker clown. Dessert?”
• • •
Walking back to Lorna’s office, heads turned in reaction to the both of them. Lorna’s height and Maria Grazia’s curves, each appealing to different strata of the male of the species, meant they had always been each other’s best wing-women. Clearly, even in the swiftly moving Midtown traffic, they still had what it took. Added to their entirely different tastes in said males of the species, their untrammeled ambition, and all the water under years of bridges … well, they understood each other as well as anybody could ever understand another human being, within reason. Frankly, it was seriously annoying Lorna that she suddenly felt she didn’t understand Anna at all.
“All those
bloody
soul mate books warped her brain.”
Maria Grazia flung her hands into the air, and sent a winning smile to the pedestrian she’d almost knocked to the ground. “Leave it alone! So she wants a long-term partner, so what. You and me, we’re simple, we both
don’t
want the same thing. We can support her without having to be like her.”
“I think she needs a … how shall I put this? A rebound.”
They paused outside Lorna’s building. Maria Grazia thought about it.
“I might go there with you on that. Has she ever done that? A one night, drunken, reactionary shag?”
“I think after that wrestler guy, she met some guy in a bar who was, perhaps, a guitar guy or a poet guy. Younger.”
“Younger is key, I think. She has all sorts
Similar Books
