Seducing Harry by Judith Marks-White

Author:Judith Marks-White [Marks-White, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-49067-4
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2009-04-22T00:00:00+00:00

26

As Harry assured me, I healed perfectly, a faint, barely visible fine line the only evidence of my accident. A dab of makeup took care of that. By the end of September, unless I studied myself up close under bright lights, I couldn't even tell I had been injured.

Parker and I were scheduled up to our eyeballs with a new season of social engagements; theater, art openings, the usual Seaport fundraisers would keep us hopping well into autumn. Harry and I were also well “into each other.” Éclaire was off to another spa, this time, Canyon Ranch in Tucson. Over lunch at Asiate in the Mandarin-Oriental Hotel just before she left, we picked over our crab salads and betal leaves while Éclaire extolled the virtues of frequent spa vacations.

“Coco, you should really join me sometime. Do you ever spa?”

I never even knew that spa was a verb.

“Truthfully,” I told her, “basking in the muck of mud baths and seaweed scrubs leaves me cold.”

“You haven't lived until you've been massaged with tangerine extract followed by a warm bath filled with flower petals.”

“I can't sit still that long,” I said.

“Coco, your problem is you don't allow for enough downtime. You're entitled to a little diversion now and then.”

She should only know that her husband was the most fullblown diversion of my life.

“One day I'm taking you with me. I won't take no for an answer.”

Then she studied my face. “Oh God, I never noticed before, but did you know that your T-zone is in severe trouble?”

“What T-zone?”

“The major zone areas of your face seem to be filled with oily patches.”

“You know that for a fact?” I was slightly alarmed.

“Just looking at you I can tell that your epidermal lipids and your sebaceous oils are incorrectly balanced. To put it simply, Coco, in some places, your skin acts oily. In others, it acts dry. It's obvious what the problem is: Your face has a split personality.”

“I have schizophrenic skin?” Perhaps it was time for another session with Finkelman.

“You need to put your skin on a training program until the root causes of its confusion are addressed.”

Éclaire was a walking encyclopedia of dermatological information.

“I had the same issues before Harry sent me to a skin guru.

Now, I'm putty in the doctor's hands. She told me that as skin matures, cell reproduction seems to lag. Much like an old car that's lost its oomph.”

I pictured myself as a beat-up old Chevy that needed some work.

“Let's face it, Coco, the way we live takes a toll. The sun, wind, and free radicals pave the way for lines and wrinkles. Your skin's support system needs a boost.”

Forget Finkelman. Maybe group therapy was the answer.

I gnawed on a cherry tomato and hung on her every word.

“I'm not kidding, Coco, if you could see what I see sitting here, you would throw a paper bag over your face.”

I pulled a pocket mirror from my bag.

“Oh my God,” I said. She was right: There was a pore over my left nostril that was as big as my mother's mouth, not to mention a blackhead that looked like a tick.

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