Being Audrey Hepburn (38 page)

“I hope we talk with you again soon,” Eva said.

I smiled and nodded, feeling terrible leaving Tabitha, but it was all more than I could deal with. I swiftly walked toward my room, glancing down at the text message.

“COUNTDOWN HAS STARTED!! WHEN WILL U B HERE?”

59

I turned off my phone and threw it on the bed. I couldn’t read another text from Jess. I opened the closet door in the guest room and curled up into a ball on the carpeted floor. I remembered all the times I had drifted off in my closet to “Moon River” and the
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
DVD looping over and over until I awoke for school.

Jess’s show was
the
most important thing, but my head hurt every time I thought about it. I closed my eyes, remembering the empty villa bedroom by bedroom and how I felt before everything went bad.

I couldn’t believe how long I slept.

The modified Chanel caught my eye as I sat up. The black dress was embellished with a spray of multicolored jewels, shortened and tightened at the waist. I reached out, taking my silver flats and the dress and stepped into the bathroom. I washed my face, put on some makeup, and pulled my hair into shape. Checking in the mirror, something felt off. I hardly ever thought about Nan’s lucky talisman before, and now my wrist felt bare without it.

I wondered if Tabitha and her mother had already left, but when I checked the driveway from the balcony the white limo was still there. Eva’s Superman was flirting with some of the maids.

I walked over to Tabitha’s bedroom and heard voices inside arguing. Before I could turn away, the door opened and Tabitha came out looking terrible. She had been crying.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, closing the door behind her. She seemed anything but fine.

“We have to stay a little longer. I can’t go until I work this out with Mother. Robert always charms her,” she said.

“I understand,” I said as comfortingly as I could. She returned to her room.

Deciding to act as if I wasn’t upset, I turned on my phone and texted ZK, as though nothing was wrong.

“C U @ ROBERT’S.”

There was no answer. I waited some more and noticed an unread text from Jess.

“I CAN’T W8 TIL U GET BACK. CAN’T DO THIS WITHOUT U!”

I wondered how I would pull myself away and get back to the city. I couldn’t even focus on what I should do. I decided, no matter what, to take the jitney back in the morning. I couldn’t fail Jess. I couldn’t stand waiting at Tabitha’s either. I marched outside to find Mocha. He was about to leave on an errand and I hitched a ride.

60

Even after Mocha passed through the gates and turned down the driveway, it was a full ten minutes before we caught sight of the looming three-story Tudor-style manor. When I entered, there were two beefy security guards at the door. They nodded as though they knew who I was before I could give them my name.

I passed through doors as thick as bank vaults into the main entrance with its grand matching staircases. Following the other guests into the first-floor library, I ran into Balty and Flo. They had stopped at Robert’s on their way back to the city. They were abuzz with the news of Eva Eden’s arrival and more than happy to fill me in on the dirt.

Balty took special pleasure in dishing Eva. “Tabitha’s mother is a generous longtime charity donor to the Addiction Relief Foundation in the U.K. and the chairwoman for their fund drive,” Balty said with a smirk. “At the same time, she has a heroin habit that would kill most people.”

“You’re so unfair, Balty,” Flo said, chastising him, rolling her eyes. Flo was wearing an exquisite black sequined dress and a silver necklace that sparkled with diamonds. Everything she wore was well matched to her supersleek red hair.

“I guess you’re right,” Balty agreed, laughing. “I mean, they only found eight grams of crack cocaine and two hundred and fifty milligrams of diazepam in her Rolls when they stopped her.” Tabitha’s alcohol problem seemed tame by comparison.

I heard a familiar dog yap and turned to see Robert holding Morris on the far side of the room chatting with Dahlia. I don’t know why it was surprising to see them talking. Perhaps it was my mood, but there seemed something sinister about those two together. What could they be plotting? And where was ZK? That’s what mattered.

I hoped to slip away unnoticed, but Dahlia seemed to have extrasensory perception when it came to knowing I was around. She turned my direction and gave me an icy smile. Managing to smile back for form’s sake, I found myself rubbing my wrist where Nan’s bracelet used to be. I hadn’t realized how many times I had unconsciously reached for that good-luck charm.

Excusing myself from Flo’s company, I searched from library to gallery, through the walnut-paneled ballroom, asking for ZK, but nobody had seen him. The nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach was draining all the energy out of me.

I overhead someone say there were twenty-five bedrooms in Robert Francis’s mansion; I felt like I had searched half of them. The mansion was so enormous that I never doubled back on my path.

Passing through room after room, it seemed as though I’d entered a kind of Escher painting of never-ending rooms and staircases. I turned down an unfamiliar hall and noticed that the crowd had thinned out, so I headed back downstairs, where most of the partygoers were gathering.

“Looking for me?” I knew that voice, unfortunately.

Morris barked twice in Robert’s arm, the dog’s tiny tongue sticking out, panting.

“No, actually,” I said.

“Here, let me get you something to drink.”

“No thank you. I’d rather not,” I said, watching Morris wiggle uncomfortably in Robert’s arms.

“Of course not.” Did I detect a wounded tone in his voice? “Determined to avoid me, I suppose. Even though I’ve helped your good friend Tabitha evade arrest and scandal for the umpteenth time.”

I glowered at him silently.

“I won’t keep you,” he said, sounding resigned. “At least let me show you the best view in the house.” He led me through a doorway toward two huge bay windows.

The mansion had a view of the churning ocean unlike any I had ever seen before. The lighting from the house illuminated the dunes in sharp waves of light and dark. Chiaroscuro, I think my high school art teacher would have called it. Through the interplay of shadows I could see the Atlantic’s explosive white foam, but the windows were so thick that besides the murmurs of partiers elsewhere in the house, the wind, the ocean’s waves, and everything outside was isolated, unnaturally soundless. All the drama of the crashing waves took place in eerie silence.

I shook myself out of my daze.

“I have to go,” I said and turned to leave, but the room was dark and I wasn’t sure which way to go.

“Oh come now, Lisbeth, don’t be ridiculous.” Robert dropped Morris to the floor and closed a large door I hadn’t noticed. I felt my neck stiffen, angry to find myself at a disadvantage again.

“Really, dear, I’ve tried so hard to please you. At least you can talk to me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, steeling myself.

“What possessed you to cut your hair? I preferred it longer,” he said and moved behind me, standing close enough I could feel his breathing. I had to buy time and find an exit. “The pixie cut is too boyish for my tastes.”

Morris jumped to the footstool, and I saw in the darkness there was a bed. There were so many bedrooms in this house I hadn’t realized that we had entered one.

“As you know, I am meeting with Tabitha’s mother tonight. My sister Eva always does as I ask. Considering her relationship with the authorities and her mental outlook, she could hardly take care of herself let alone a daughter. Tabitha didn’t help her case by picking a fight in a bar over a minor. I have a legal responsibility to her recording label and her trust to retain control.” Morris yapped, panting expectantly, and I realized we were facing a mirror. “Of course you could change that,” he said. Was every one of the twenty-five bedrooms in this mansion designed for his uses? “If you agree, I’ll release Tabitha.”

“Agree to what?” I cringed as he ran his fingers through my hair.

“Lisbeth, dear, girls don’t run out on me,” he said and roughly grabbed my hair in his fist. I gasped, his strength greater than I expected.

“I’ve helped other girls like you,” he said. His other arm gathered around my waist and forcefully dragged me toward his body. As he kissed my neck, I twisted to slip away, but his grip tightened painfully in my hair. His arm was too muscular. His grasp of my hair was too firm.

I couldn’t help noticing Morris watching us in the mirror.
There’s always a mirror,
I thought, remembering how the mutt had dutifully jumped up on the footstool by the bed the last time, yapping at his reflection.

Robert’s hand slid upward to my breast, searching for my nipple. I squirmed and tried to twist away. He pulled me closer, grabbing my breast, and I screamed. I kicked him and felt his grip loosen. I squeezed tighter to duck out of his hold, diving forward, but he held on firmly and fell on top of me. I struggled to push him away, and the moment seemed to unwind in still frames; Robert smashing into the mirror, the hundred jigsaw pieces of glass momentarily suspended in air, Robert’s stunned expression from the floor, staring up at me in broken agony.

We both seemed stuck there for the longest time. I closed my eyes for a second to recover and then, opening them again, noticed that behind where the mirror had been was a mounted camera inside.

“You were taping me?” Alongside the camera tripod, I spotted a box of DVDs with different labels on them. One had Tabitha’s name on it.

We both heard a sharp creaking sound and looked up. There was a long shard of the broken mirror stuck in the top of the frame, wavering suspended—until it dropped—plunging into his leg.

He screamed.

Someone would hear. Someone would be coming. I grabbed as many DVDs as I could, including Tabitha’s, and headed for the door.

“You can’t just leave me like this,” he said, his voice shaking in pain, his hand covering the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

The door was massive. I had to put the DVDs on the floor and open the door with both hands to get out.

“At least you have to send someone to help me.”

But I just grabbed the DVDs from the floor and ran.

61

Lying in bed I stared up at the ceiling of Tabitha’s guest room. I glanced at the few spattered drops of blood on the reworked Chanel hanging in the closet, at the DVDs on the vanity, and fell asleep waiting for the darkness outside to turn blue.

Bolting awake, impatient to talk to Tabitha, I threw on a blouse and jeans and tiptoed barefoot through the breezeway in the early morning air to her room, hoping I could wake her, and found the door open.

In the sitting room adjoining the bedroom, Tabitha gazed out the window at the ocean.

“Come in,” she said quietly. Cozy in her lush pink robe, Tabitha rested with her legs tucked under, enveloped from her neck to her ankles in pink. I sat as Zoya poured two cups of coffee and retreated.

“Last night, at Robert’s…” I started, but she held her hand up for me to stop.

“I know,” she said, putting a spoonful of sugar in her coffee. She slowly took a sip, holding the cup in both hands. “Robert has been in Southampton Hospital all night.”

“And your mother?”

“She left this morning, couldn’t deal with it, as usual.” Tabitha took another sip of coffee. On her face there was an expression of annoyance and disappointment. Her face was puffy from crying.

“I found these.” I placed a few of the DVDs with her name on the table. Tabitha glanced at them. Her eyes narrowed, and her face drained of color.

“What are those?” she muttered in a soft voice almost to herself.

“I know what you’ve been going through.”

“You mean Robert…”

I nodded.

Her breathing steadied and she reached for a tissue, but her eyes were dry.

“I should have known. I used to keep count of how many times. But then he stopped and I forgot about it for a while.” Composed, she lifted her cup and took a sip. “I was younger. But it would come up in my mind in flashes at the oddest times. I couldn’t control it. He played one of these once, of another girl. So I knew he had a camera. I didn’t think he had them of me. So obvious.”

“He’s your uncle. How long did he…”

“Don’t. Please.” She peered back out at the ocean. The waves rose and fell in a soothing rhythm. After a few moments she gathered herself.

“I was actually jealous at first, of the others,” she said and started to laugh, unable to help herself. “There was a girl who had a blog like yours, and Robert started a magazine with her name all over it. She was nothing before Robert. He’s invested in plenty of people, you know. It was better for them. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

My stomach felt uneasy.

“Are you saying that’s why you sent me to meet with him?” I asked.

“He has a ton of money. I didn’t know—maybe you would want his help. It was Robert’s idea. And he was willing; he said he was willing to release me from all of his control. I didn’t think it through. Really, he made it sound harmless, like a favor.” She had a sad, pained expression, like a little girl in trouble.

Could that be true? If I had succumbed to Robert, would I have gained entry into the world of money and privilege I had first encountered that night outside the Met so long ago? Other girls had done so. I could have buried Lizzy from New Jersey forever just by giving myself up to him.

“You should turn these over to someone,” I said. “We have to stop him from doing this ever again.”

“Stop him?” She stifled a derisive laugh. “From having sex with pretty young girls? It happens all the time, every night, everywhere. I only wanted to stop him from controlling me.” She dropped her stirring spoon to the plate, her eyes glassy with tears.

The wind was blowing across the ocean against the waves, making them higher and crash harder. The airstream above carried a soft white fog, floating in, layering the blue sky. How could it all look so beautiful when I felt so bad?