Last night at Chateau Marmont by Lauren Weisberger

Author:Lauren Weisberger
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: love_contemporary
Published: 2010-12-07T23:00:00+00:00

10 Boy-Next-Door Dimples

BROOKE’s cel phone rang just as she’d lugged the twenty-two-pound turkey into the apartment and managed to heave it on top of the counter.

“Hel o?” she said as she began clearing her fridge of every nonessential item to make room for the gigantic bird.

“Brooke? It’s Samara.”

She was caught off guard. Samara had never, ever cal ed her before. Did she want to check in and see what they thought of the Vanity Fair cover? It had just hit the stands and Brooke couldn’t stop staring at it. She thought of it as vintage Julian, in jeans and a tight white T-shirt, wearing one of his favorite knit caps and smiling in just that way that showed off his astonishingly endearing dimples. He was by far the cutest of the gang.

“Oh, hi! Doesn’t he just look amazing on the Vanity Fair cover? I mean, I’m not surprised, but he just looks so-”

“Brooke, do you have a minute?”

Obviously, this wasn’t a social cal about a magazine cover, and if that woman was even going to try to tel Julian that he couldn’t make it home for the very first Thanksgiving they were hosting, wel, she’d kil her.

“Um, yeah, just hold on one sec.” She closed the fridge and sat down at their tiny table, which reminded her that she needed to cal and check on the status of the table and chair rental. “Okay, I’m settled now.

What’s going on?”

“Brooke, there’s been an article written, and it’s not pleasant,” Samara announced in that clipped, curt way she always had, although with news like this there was something comforting about it.

Brooke tried to laugh it off. “Wel, seems like these days there’s always an article written. Hey, I’m the hard-drinking pregnant lady, remember? What did Julian say?”

Samara cleared her throat. “I haven’t told him yet. I suspect he’l be very upset, and I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Oh, Christ. What do they say about him? Do they make fun of his hair? Or his family? Or did some creepy attention whore from his past surface with claims that-”

“It’s not about Julian, Brooke. It’s about you.”

Silence. Brooke felt her fingernails digging into her palms, but she couldn’t consciously stop it from happening.

“What about me?” she final y asked, her voice a near whisper.

“It’s a col ection of offensive lies,” Samara said cool y. “I wanted you to hear it from me first. And I also want you to know that we have our legal team on it, refuting the entirety of it. We’re taking this very seriously.”

Brooke couldn’t bring herself to speak. No question it must be pretty horrible if Samara was going to such lengths over some tabloid piece. Final y she said, “Where is it? I need to see it.”

“It wil be in tomorrow’s issue of Last Night, but you can read it online right now. Brooke, please understand that everyone here is behind you, and we promise-”

For possibly the first time since she was a teenager-and certainly for the first time involving anyone but her mother-Brooke hung up midsentence and moved to the computer.

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