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bed； immediately wondering if Miranda had done something to
make her sound that way。 The last time Emily had called this
late was when Miranda had called her at eleven on a Saturday
night to demand that Emily charter her and Mr。 Tomlinson a
private jet to get Home from Miami since bad weather had
canceled their regularly scheduled flight。 Emily was just
getting ready to leave her apartment to attend her own
birthday party when the call came in； and she’d immediately
called me and begged me to deal with it。 I hadn’t gotten the
message until the next day； though； and when I called her
back； she was still in tears。
“I missed my own birthday party； Andrea；” she’d wailed the
second she picked up the phone。 “I missed my own birthday
party because I had to charter them a flight！”
“They couldn’t get a hotel room for one night and e back
the next day like normal people？” I’d asked； pointing out the
obvious。
“Don’t you think I thought of that？ I had penthouse suites
reserved for them at the Shore Club； the Albion； and the
Delano within seven minutes of her first phone call； figuring
she couldn’t possibly be serious—I mean； my god； it was a
Saturday night。 How the hell do you charter a flight on a
Saturday night？”
“I’m guessing she wasn’t so into that idea？” I’d asked
soothingly； feeling genuinely guilty that I hadn’t been around
to help her out and simultaneously ecstatic that I’d dodged
that particular bullet。
“Yeah。 Not so into it at all。 She called every ten minutes；
demanding to know why I hadn’t found her anything yet； and I
had to keep putting these people on hold to answer her call；
and when I went back to them； they’d hang up。” She gulped air。
“It was a nightmare。”
“So what finally happened？ I’m almost scared to ask。”
“What finally happened？ Whatdidn’t finally happen？ I called
every single private charter pany in the state of Florida
and； as you might imagine； they weren’t answering their phones
at midnight on a Saturday。 I paged individual pilots； I called
domestic airlines to see if they had any remendations； I
even managed to talk to some sort of supervisor at the Miami
International Airport。 Told him I needed a plane in the next
half hour to fly two people to New York。 Know what he did？”
“What？”
“He laughed。 Hysterically。 Accused me of being a front for
terrorists； for drug smugglers； everything。 Told me I had a
better chance of getting hit by lightning exactly twenty times
than I did of securing a plane and a pilot at that
hour—regardless of how much I was willing to pay。 And that if
I called back again； he’d be forced to direct my inquiry to
the FBI。 Do you believe it？” She was screaming at this point。
“Do you fucking believe it？ The FBI！”
“And I assume Miranda didn’t like that； either？”
“Yeah； sheloooooved that one。 She spent twenty minutes
refusing to believe that there wasn’t a single plane
available。 I assured her that it wasn’t that they were all
taken； just that it was a difficult time of night to be
attempting to charter a flight。”
“So what happened？” I didn’t see this one ending happily。
“At about one…thirty in the morning she finally accepted that
she wasn’t going to get Home that night—not that it mattered
whatsoever； since the girls were with their father and the
nanny was around all day Sunday if they needed her—and she had
me buy her a ticket for the first flight out in the morning。”
This was puzzling。 If her flight had been canceled； I’d
assumed the airlines would’ve rescheduled her for the first
flight out in the morning； especially considering her
premier…advantage…plus…gold…platinum…diamond…executive…VIP
mileage status and the original cost of her first…class
tickets。 I said as much。
“Yeah； well； Continental scheduled them for their first flight
out； which was at six…fiftyA 。M。 But when Miranda heard that
someone else had managed to get on a Delta flight at
six…thirty…fiveA 。M。； she went ballistic。 She called me an
inpetent idiot； asked me over and over what good an
assistant was if I couldn’t do something as simple as arrange
for a private plane。” She’d sniffed and took a sip of
something； probably Coffee。
“Ohmigod； I know what you’re going to say。 Tell me you
didn’t！”
“I did。”
“You didn’t。 You’ve got to be kidding。 For fifteen minutes？”
“I did！ What choice did I have？ She was really unhappy with
me—at least this way； it seemed like I was actually doing
something。 It came to another couple thousand bucks—not
exactly a big deal。 She was bordering onhappy when we hung up。
What else can you ask for？”
By this point we’d both started laughing。 I knew without
Emily’s telling me—and she knew I knew—that she’d gone ahead
and purchased two additional Business…class tickets on the
Delta flight for Miranda just to shut her up； to make the
incessant demands and insults finally； blissfully； cease。
I was nearly choking at this point。 “So； wait。 By the time you
arranged for a car to take her to the Delano—”
“—it was just before three in the morning； and she’d called my
Cell Phone exactly twenty…two times since eleven。 The driver
waited while they showered and changed in their penthouse
suite and then took them right back to the airport in time for
theirearlier flight。”
“Stop！ You’ve got to stop；” I howled； doubled over at this
charming series of events。 “This did not really happen。”
Emily stopped laughing and tried to feign seriousness。 “Oh；
really？ You think all of this is good？ I haven’t even told you
the best part。”
“Oh； tell me； tell me！” I was positively gleeful that Emily
and I ha