velcroed to my underwear. “This is why women used to wear slips,” I whispered, attempting to straighten the run that afflicted my scant nylon swath. “Whatever happened to slips anyway? Do people still wear them?”
“They’re called Spanx! And I’m trying to listen!”
Despite a few snags below the belly button, I was looking satisfyingly Hollywood for a relative newbie. Toni had convinced me to wear one of my mom’s retro gowns I’d snuck from her dress storage last time I was home. The gown was slinky green nylon with a psychedelic gold pattern. It fit snugly, with a bold slit that zoomed high-thigh, a back that plunged past the curve of my spine, and halter ties that swung over my shoulders and trickled toward my rump. It was groovy. And thanks to its retro authenticity, it looked like a dress any of these rock stars or their dates could have worn.
“Hey, Toni, Antonio Banderas checked me out on my way back from the can. I put an extra hip-check in my walk just for him,” I giggled.
“Isn’t he like 100 now?” Toni poked me and belted out her signature laugh.
“I don’t care,” I swooned. “Ever since Mambo Kings and the way he crooned ‘Beautiful Maria.’ Yum!”
“Too funny. Did Melanie see?” Toni asked.
“Hope not,” I gushed. “They’ll probably be at the after party.”
None of the big stars from the Grammys were at YBC’s after party. So much for “Jane and Toni: Celebrity Insiders!” Somebody said they all went to the Vanity Fair party at Chateau Marmont. It was apparently the party to go to, but without some celebrity connection, we didn’t stand a chance of getting past security.
“That one—grab me that one.” I pointed while nudging Naomi. My plate was too full to add anything else.
“Just eat it,” Naomi said, stuffing a pink glazed chocolate truffle into my mouth. It looked like a Christmas ornament with a delicate and edible chocolate treble clef teetering on its center. “I need the room for that hazelnut thingy on my plate.”
Naomi dug into the pile of intricately decorated hedgehogs, which were surrounded by shelves of crystal and ivy. On the other side sat a giant chocolate fountain, burbling Belgian’s finest. Being with Naomi, here at the Grammys, momentarily reminded me of our time in Mexico. She had been relaxed there.
“They need bigger plates,” I sneered, stacking another pink treble-clef truffle on my overloaded plate.
“We should find Toni,” Naomi said as we shuffled past endless buffets of food. “And my boyfriend,” Naomi said, laughing as if she didn’t really care if we did or not. “By the way, how’s it going with Danny and our wedding special? I’ve been under a pile of legal mumbo-jumbo developing this new game show pilot for ABC.”
“Another new show?”
“Jane, honey, we’re always pitching,” she said in her best mentoring voice. “This biz is pitch or plummet. And I’ve got to make my millions before 50!”
“You’re my idol,” I said to Naomi, toasting her with my glass. “Can I be you?”
“Don’t get all sucky on me,” Naomi said, never one to hang on a compliment. “Now, how’s my wedding special coming along?”
“You know, it’s busy.” I tried to read Naomi to see if I could tell her what I really thought of Danny as my boss. Truth was, after two months under his control, I wanted to poke my eyeballs out. I did all the work! Could I tell the boss that her right-hand man was a right-hand phony and, if so, how? I also wanted to tell her that it was thanks to me that we had the secret footage of Sally and Matt in the first place.
“And?” Naomi pushed.
I readied myself for the big reveal, “Well, you know, Naomi, those late nights working the surveillance cameras in France, I really got my sea legs, and when I saw this side story blooming—”
“Jane, you don’t need to tell me,” Naomi interrupted. “I always knew you were a talent. You were my strongest producer in France. I noticed. You’re best when you’re face to face with the subjects. That’s your strength.”
“Thanks, Naomi.” I shrugged my shoulders, anxious to finish. “I know it was months ago now, but I just thought you should know. I was the one who told the cameras to film Sally and—”
“Great, Jane. There’s Toni!” Naomi wrapped her arm around me, abruptly ending the conversation.
Having missed my window, I decided to drop the discussion. The show had wrapped in France nearly three months ago, and had been on