“You do know her, don’t you?” he said.
“She’s my nightmare.”
“Really. Why?”
“Because she stood between me and you.”
“Huh.”
Silence.
“So what are we going to do?” Tammy said finally.
“Shit. I don’t want to do this.”
“So that makes two of us. But — ”
“I know, I know, if we don’t do it now … All right. You win. But I will beat the living shit out of the first person who says one word about my face.”
They drove on, the houses they were driving past far more modest in scale and design than she’d expected. There was very little here of the kitsch of Beverly Hills: no faux-French chateaux sitting side by side with faux-Tudor mansions. The houses were mostly extremely plain, boxlike in most cases, with very occasional architectural flourishes. They were also very close to one another. “You wouldn’t get much privacy there,” Tammy commented.
“I guess everybody just pretends not to look at everybody else. Or they just don’t care. That’s more like it. They just don’t care.”
“That’s the connection between you and Katya, isn’t it? You’ve both been looked at so much … and the rest of us don’t know what that feels like.”
“It feels like somebody’s siphoning out your blood, pint by pint.”
“Not good.”
“No. Not good.”
They rounded a corner, bringing their destination into view. The party-house was decorated with thousands of tiny white twinkle lights, as were the two palm trees that stood like sentinels to left and right of the door.
“Christmas came early this year,” Tammy remarked.
“Apparently.”
There were uniformed valets working the street; taking cars from the guests and spiriting them away to be parked somewhere out of sight.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Todd asked Tammy.
“No more than you are.”
“Want to go one more circle around the block?”
“Yes.”
“Uh-oh. Too late.”
Two valets were coming at the car bearing what must have been burdensome smiles. As the doors were opened, Todd caught tight hold of Tammy’s hand. “Don’t leave my side,” he said. “Promise me you won’t.”
“I promise,” she said, and raising her head she put on her best impersonation of someone who was rich, famous and belonged at Todd Pickett’s side. Todd relinquished the keys to the valet.
“May I assume this is your first A-list Hollywood party in the flesh?” Todd said to Tammy.
“You may.”
“Well then this could be a lot of fun. In a grotesque, ‘there’s a shark in the swimming pool’ sort of way.”