Chasing Harry Winston. Lauren Weisberger

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СКАЧАТЬ probably wonder how it could get worse, right? Well, let me tell you how. He didn’t just fuck her – I could maybe deal with that. Noooo, not my Duncan. He “fell in love” with her.’ Emmy jabbed out air quotes with the forefingers and middle fingers of both hands and rolled her bloodshot eyes. ‘He’s “waiting for her,” quote-unquote, until she’s “ready.” She’s a VIRGIN, for chrissake! I’ve put up with five years of his cheating and lies and kinky, weird sex so he can FALL IN LOVE WITH A VIRGIN TRAINER I HIRED IN THE GYM I PAID FOR? In love! Leigh, what am I going to do?’

      Leigh, relieved that she could finally do something tangible, took Emmy’s arm and helped her to her feet. ‘Come in, honey. Let’s go inside. I’ll make us some tea and you can tell me what happened.’

      Emmy sniffed. ‘Oh, god, I forgot … it’s Monday. I don’t want to interrupt. I’ll be fine …’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I wasn’t even doing anything,’ Leigh lied. ‘Come in this minute.’

      Leigh led her to the couch and, after patting the overstuffed arm to indicate where Emmy should rest her head, ducked behind the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. With its speckled granite countertops and new stainless steel appliances, the kitchen was Leigh’s favorite room in the whole apartment. All of her pots and pans hung from under-cabinet hooks in order of size, and all of her utensils and spices were obsessively organized in matching glass and stainless containers. Crumbs, spills, wrappers, dirty dishes – all nonexistent. The refrigerator looked like someone had Hoovered it clean, and the countertops were entirely smudge-free. If it was possible for a room to personify its owner’s neurotic personality, the kitchen and Leigh could be identical twins.

      She filled the kettle (purchased just last week during a Bloomingdale’s Home Sale, because who said you were entitled to new things only when you registered?), piled a tray high with cheese and Wheat Thins, and peeked through the window into the living room to make sure Emmy was resting comfortably. Seeing that she was lying flat on her back with an arm flung over her eyes, Leigh slipped out her cell phone and selected Adriana’s name from her phone book. She typed: SOS. E & D finished. Get down here ASAP.

      ‘Do you have Advil?’ Emmy called from the couch. And then, more quietly: ‘Duncan always carried Advil.’

      Leigh opened her mouth to add that Duncan had always carried a lot of things – a business card for his favorite escort service, a wallet-sized picture of himself as a child, and, occasionally, a genital wart or two that he swore were just ‘skin tags’ – but she controlled herself. In addition to being unnecessary since Emmy was suffering enough, it would be hypocritical: contrary to everyone’s belief, Leigh wasn’t exactly in the world’s most perfect relationship, either. But she pushed the thought of Russell from her mind.

      ‘Sure, I’ll get you some in a minute,’ she said, turning off the whistling kettle. ‘Tea’s ready.’

      The girls had just taken their first sips when the doorbell rang. Emmy looked at Leigh, who just said, ‘Adriana.’

      ‘It’s open!’ Leigh called toward the front door, but Adriana had already figured that out. She stormed into the living room and stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the scene.

      ‘What is going on here?’ she demanded. Adriana’s slight Brazilian accent, little more than a soft, sexy lilting when she was calm, made her almost unintelligible when she felt, in her own words, ‘passionate’ about someone or something. Which was pretty much always. ‘Where are the drinks?’

      Leigh motioned to the kitchen. ‘Water’s still hot. Check the cupboard above the microwave. I have a whole bunch of different flavors in—’

      ‘No tea!’ Adriana screeched and pointed to Emmy. ‘Can’t you see she’s miserable? We need real drinks. I’ll make caipirinhas.’

      ‘I don’t have any mint. Or limes. Actually, I’m not even sure I have the right booze,’ Leigh said.

      ‘I brought everything.’ Adriana lifted a large paper bag over her head and grinned.

      Leigh often found Adriana’s abruptness irritating, sometimes a little overwhelming, but tonight she was grateful to her for taking control of the situation. It had been nearly twelve years since Leigh first saw Adriana’s smile, and still it left her feeling awestruck and a little anxious. How could someone possibly be that beautiful? she wondered for the hundred thousandth time. What higher power orchestrated such a perfect union of genes? Who decided that one single solitary soul deserved skin like that? It was so fundamentally unfair.

      It was another few minutes before the drinks were mixed and distributed and everyone had settled down; Emmy and Adriana sprawled on the couch; Leigh sat cross-legged on the floor.

      ‘So, tell us what happened,’ Leigh said, placing a hand on Emmy’s ankle. ‘Just take your time and tell us all about it.’

      Emmy sighed and, for the first time since she arrived, appeared cried out. ‘There’s not that much to tell. She’s absolutely adorable – like, nauseatingly cute. And young. Really, really young.’

      ‘What’s really, really young?’ Leigh asked.

      ‘Twenty-three.’

      ‘That’s not so young.’

      ‘She has a MySpace profile,’ Emmy said.

      Leigh grimaced.

      ‘And she’s on Facebook.’

      ‘Good lord,’ Adriana muttered.

      ‘Yeah, I know. Her favorite color is lavender and her favorite book is The South Beach Diet and she just adores cookie dough, campfires, and watching Saturday-morning cartoons. Oh, and she simply must get nine hours of sleep or else she’s really, really cranky.’

      ‘What else?’ Leigh asked, although she could predict the answer.

      ‘What else do you want to know?’

      Adriana started the quiz show-like round.

      ‘Name?’

      ‘Brianna Sheldon.’

      ‘College?’

      ‘SMU, Comm major, Kappa Kappa Gamma.’ Emmy enunciated these last three words with a perfect Valley Girl inflection.

      ‘Hometown?’

      ‘Born in Richmond, raised in a suburb of Charleston.’

      ‘Music?’

      ‘Like you even have to ask. Kenny Chesney.’

      ‘High school sport?’

      ‘Let’s just all say it in unison …’ Emmy said.

      ‘Cheerleading,’ Adriana and Leigh simultaneously.

      ‘Given.’ Emmy sighed, but then she smiled for a second. ‘I found some pictures of her from her sister’s wedding photographer’s website – she even manages to look good in teal taffeta. The whole thing is positively nauseating.’

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