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miniskirt。
“Hey； Andy； how’d the Book dropping…off go？” We waited in line to
check our coats and I had immediately spotted Brad Pitt。
“Ohmigod； you’re joking。 Brad Pitt’s here？”
“Yeah； well； Marshall does Jennifer’s hair； natch。 So she must be
here also。 Really； Andy； maybe next time you’ll believe me when I
tell you to stick with me。 Let’s get a drink。”
The Reese and Johnny spottings had e back to back； and by the
time oneA 。M。 rolled around； I’d had four drinks and was happily
gabbing away with a fashion assistant fromVogue 。 We were discussing
bikini waxes。 Passionately。 And it didn’t even bother me。Christ； I
thought； as I weaved through the crowd looking for James； flashing a
giant kiss…ass smile in the general direction of Jennifer Aniston
when I passed by—this isn’t a half…bad party。 But I was tipsy； I had
to be at work again in less than six hours； and I hadn’t been Home
in nearly twenty…four； so when I spotted James making out with one
of the colorists from Marshall’s salon； I was just about to duck out
when I felt a hand in the small of my back。
“Hey；” said the gorgeous guy I’d spotted earlier lurking in the
corner。 I waited for him to realize that he’d approached the wrong
girl； that I must’ve looked the same as his girlfriend from behind；
but he just smiled even wider。 “Not so talkative； are you？”
“Oh； and saying ‘hey’ makes you articulate； I guess？”Andy！ Shut your
mouth！ I berated silently。Some absolutely beautiful man approaches
you out of the blue at a party full of celebrities and you tell him
off right away？ But he didn’t seem offended； and even though it
didn’t seem possible； his smile increased in size to an all…out
grin。
“Sorry；” I muttered while examining my nearly empty drink。 “My
name’s Andrea。 There。 I think that’s a much better way of
beginning。” I stuck out my hand and wondered what he wanted。
“Actually； I liked your way just fine。 Name’s Christian。 A pleasure
to meet you； Andy。” He pushed a brown curl out of his left eye and
took a swig from a bottle of Budweiser。 He looked vaguely familiar；
I decided； but I couldn’t place him。
“Bud； huh？” I asked； pointing to his hand。 “I didn’t think they
served something so lowbrow at a party like this。”
He laughed； a deep； hearty laugh instead of the chuckle I’d
expected。 “You sure do say what you think； don’t you？” I must’ve
looked mortified； because he smiled again and said； “No； no； that’s
a good thing。 And a rare thing； especially in this industry。 I
couldn’t bring myself to drink champagne from a straw out of a
minibottle； you know？ Something fairly emasculating about that。 So
the bartender dug one of these out of the kitchen somewhere。”
Another curl push； but it fell back in his eye the moment he took
his hand away。 He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his
black sport coat and offered it to me。 I took one and proceeded to
drop it immediately； seizing the opportunity to examine him while I
reached down to retrieve it。
It landed a few inches from his shiny； square…toed loafers that
sported the irrefutable Gucci tassel； and on the way up I noticed
that his Diesel jeans were the perfect parts faded； long； and wide
enough at the bottom that they dragged a little behind the shiny
loafers； the ends frayed from repeated interaction with the soles。 A
black belt； probably Gucci but thankfully not recognizable； kept the
jeans riding in the perfect low spot below his waist； where he had
tucked in a plain white cotton T…shirt—one that even though it
easily could have been a Hanes was definitely an Armani or a Hugo
Boss and was put in place only to offset his beautiful plexion。
His black blazer looked just as expensive and well cut； perhaps even
custom…made to fit his average…size but inexplicably sexy frame； and
it was his green eyes that manded the most attention。 Seafoam； I
thought； remembering the old J。Crew colors we’d loved so much in
high school； or perhaps just a straightforward teal。 The height； the
build； the whole package looked vaguely like Alex； just with a whole
lot more Euro style and a whole lot less Abercrombie。 Slightly
cooler； slightly better looking。 Definitely older； right around
thirty。 And probably much too slick。
He immediately produced a flame and leaned in close to make sure my
cigarette had caught。 “So what brings you to a party like this；
Andrea？ Are you one of the lucky few who can call Marshall Madden
her own？”
“No； I’m afraid not。 At least not yet； although he wasn’t all that
subtle in telling me that I probably should be。” I laughed； noticing
for a brief moment that I wasdesperate to impress this stranger。 “I
work atRunway 。 One of the beauty guys dragged me here。”
“Ah；Runway magazine； huh？ Cool place to work； if you’re into S&M and
that sort of thing。 How do you like it？”
I wasn’t sure if he meant S&M or the job itself； but I considered
the possibility that he got it； that he was enough of an insider to
know that it wasn’t exactly how it appeared to those on the outside。
Perhaps I should charm him with the nightmare involved in dropping
off the Book earlier that night？ No； no； I had no idea who this guy
was 。 。 。 for all I knew he also worked atRunway in some far…flung
department I hadn’t even seen yet； or maybe for another Elias…Clark
magazine。 Or maybe； just maybe； he was one of those sneakyPage Six
reporters that Emily had so carefully warned me against。 “They just
appear；” she’d said ominously。 “They just appear and try to trick
you into saying something juicy about Miranda orRunway 。 Just be
aware。” Between that and the tracking ID cards； I was quite sure
thatRunway ’s surveillance put the mob to s