Imperial Bedrooms - By Bret Easton Ellis Page 0,9

to me."

"I just wanted to warn you about him. That's all."

"Warn me? About what?" I ask. "I've been through the whole Julian thing before. I think I can handle it."

"It's not a big hassle," she says. "If you can just do me a favor and not talk to him if he tries to make contact it would make everything a lot easier." And then for emphasis she adds, "I'd appreciate it."

"What's Julian doing these days? There was a rumor he was actually running a teenage hooker service." I pause. "It sounded like old times."

"Look, if you can just do this one thing I'd really appreciate it."

"Is this real? Or is this just an excuse to talk to me again?"

"You could have called. You could have ... " Her voice trails off.

"I tried," I say. "But you were angry."

"Not angry," she says. "Just ... disappointed." She pauses. "You didn't try hard enough."

For a few seconds we're both silent and it's a cold and minor variation on so many conversations we've had and I'm thinking about the blond girl on the veranda and I imagine Blair's thinking about the last time I made love to her. This disparity should scar me but doesn't. And then Blair's talking to a guy from CAA and a band begins playing, which I take as my cue to leave, but really it's the text I suddenly get that says I'm watching you that pushes me out of the party.

At the valet in front of the hotel, Rip Millar grabs my arm as I'm texting Who is this? and I have to yank my arm away since I'm so alarmed by his appearance. I don't recognize Rip at first. His face is unnaturally smooth, redone in such a way that the eyes are shocked open with perpetual surprise; it's a face mimicking a face, and it looks agonized. The lips are too thick. The skin's orange. The hair is dyed yellow and carefully gelled. He looks like he's been quickly dipped in acid; things fell off, skin was removed. It's almost defiantly grotesque. He's on drugs, I'm thinking. He has to be on drugs to look like this. Rip's with a girl so young I mistake her for his daughter but then I remember Rip doesn't have any children. The girl has had so much work done that she looks deformed. Rip had been handsome once and his voice is the same whisper it was when we were nineteen.

"Hey, Clay," Rip says. "Why are you back in town?"

"Because I live here," I say.

Rip's visage calmly scrutinizes me. "I thought you spent most of your time in New York."

"I mean I'm back and forth."

"I heard you met a friend of mine."

"Who?"

"Yeah," he says with a dreadful grin, his mouth filled with teeth that are too white. "I heard you really hit it off."

I just want to leave. The fear is swarming. The black BMW suddenly materializes. A valet holds the door open. The horrible face forces me to glance anywhere but at him. "Rip, I've gotta go." I gesture helplessly at my car.

"Let's have dinner while you're back," Rip says. "I'm serious."

"Okay, but I really have to go now."

"Descansado," he tells me.

"What does that mean?"

"Descansado," Rip says. "It means 'take it easy,'" he whispers, clutching the child next to him.

"Yeah?"

"It means relax."

It happens again. While waiting for the girl to come over I'm reaching into the refrigerator for a bottle of white wine when I notice that a Diet Coke's missing and that cartons and jars have been rearranged and I'm telling myself this isn't possible, and after looking around the condo for other clues maybe it isn't. It's not until I'm staring at the Christmas tree that I finally hear the bones tapping against the windowpane: one strand of lights not connected to the other strands has been unplugged leaving a jagged black streak within the lit tree. This is the detail that announces: you've been warned. This is the detail that says: they want you to know. I drink a glass of vodka, and then I drink another. Who is this? I text. A minute later I receive an answer from a blocked number that annihilates whatever peace the alcohol brought on. I promised someone I wouldn't tell you.

I'm walking through the Grove to have lunch with Julian, who texts me that he's at a table next to the Pinkberry in the Farmers Market. I thought you said I was a total mistake, he typed back