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“HUNTER!” A BEAUTIFUL, older, petite woman called out when it was our turn in the receiving line. “Hellohoware, darling? As handsome as ever, I see. Come, come! Give darling Tootie an air kiss on each cheek. You know, so as not to destroy my makeup.”
As I watched Hunter gently take Tootie by the shoulders and follow through with the air kisses, I studied her.
She was fiftyish, but her face had been molded and pulled into something that stretched toward fortyish. She had blonde hair that just touched her shoulders, she wore understated jewels at her throat, wrists and fingers, and a pale yellow gown that was to die for. I knew next to nothing about fashion, but in her form-fitting dress, which could betray more mature curves, Tootie Staunton-Miller looked trim and terrific. She also reeked of class and old money.
When Hunter pulled away from her and Tootie’s calculating gaze swept over me, I almost felt a chill.
“And who is this?” she asked in surprise. “I thought you’d be bringing Abby with you tonight. Especially since j’adore you with Abby! You know I do, darling—even if she is a single mother and all, as awful as that sounds. Nevertheless, I do like her, and I still think she’s so right for you!”
“Being a single mother doesn’t define Abby, Tootie,” Hunter said with steel in his voice.
“Well, of course it doesn’t—it was just an observation, Hunter.”
“Right. Just so you know, Abby’s child is ill, and since Abby will only ever be my friend, it is my pleasure to bring Julia Jacobs as my date for this evening,” Hunter said, looking at me. “Julia, this is Tootie Staunton-Miller.”
I smiled warmly at her and extended my hand, which she shook.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said.
“Isn’t it?” she said with a little titter before she let go of my hand.
And what the hell was that? I wondered.
“Julia,” she said, almost to herself. “Julia, Julia, Julia Jacobs. Why can’t I place that name? Hmm. Are you new in town? You must be, since I happen to know absolutely everyone who is anyone in this city, and somehow I’ve yet to see you out and about on the circuit.”
The circuit? I thought. What in the hell is the circuit?
“Actually, I’ve lived in the city for the past six years,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Oh, I think I see,” she said. “You weren’t born in New York City, were you?”
“No, I was born in Connecticut.”
When I said that, relief literally washed over her face. “Well, of course you were born in Connecticut!” she said. “And naturally you hail from Greenwich, am I correct?”
“No, I was born and raised in Hartford.”
“Hartford?” she said. “I see. Well, at the very least, certainly you have family in Greenwich.”
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Oh, dear.”
“I mean, at least that I know of,” I said.
“Darling, believe me when I say that if you had family in Greenwich, you’d know it. Of that, I’m certain. But let’s move on, because now my curiosity has suddenly spiked when it comes to you. Where did you go to university?”
“UConn.”
The moment I said that, Tootie’s face flushed bright red as her lips parted in abject horror and disdain.
“I’m sorry?” she said as she placed her hand to her throat. “Did you just call me a con at my own party?”
“No,” I said, suddenly feeling flustered. “You asked where I went to university. I went to the University of Connecticut, otherwise known as UConn.”
“Oh, well, thank goodness,” Tootie said. “Not for your questionable choice of university, of course, but that you didn’t insult me, because for a moment, I was almost certain that you had. And if you had, well, I don’t know what I would have done. I might have asked Hunter to stay, since tonight is about his father, after all. But I likely would have asked you to leave, Julia.”
“Tootie,” the tall, distinguished-looking man at her left said. “That’s enough.”
“Enough of what, Addy? I came to an honest conclusion, I’ve been corrected, everything is settled, and Julia and I are fine. Now, can’t we all just breathe a sigh of relief and move on? What do you do, Julia?”
“I’m an assistant agent at CAA.”
“CAA,” she said quizzically. “Does that stand for Curing Alcoholics Anonymously?”
Seriously, bitch?
“It stands for the Creative Artists Agency,” I said.
“Sorry, not following . . .”
“It’s the largest and most prestigious talent agency in the world,” Hunter said. “Julia’s client was just signed to be on my television show.”
“Remind me again what that show of yours is called, Hunter.”
“The Terrible Teens,” he said. “It’s a reality show.”
“You know,” she said to him with a trace of concern in her voice. “One day, I see greater things for you, Hunter. I really do, even if you were adopted at such a late age. Because of your father’s influence alone, I know in my heart that someday, you will achieve the greatness that he’s achieved. And if not that, it will be something akin to what your mother has achieved as a revered, renowned poet who continues to be lauded, lauded, and lauded again for her stirring body of work. This trying time in your life, of dealing with these terrible teen people—not to mention having to suffer the idea that everyone knows you work in the slums of reality television—shall pass, and you will ascend to bigger and more important projects. You’ll see, because Tootie can already see it for herself.”
“I actually enjoy my work, Tootie,” Hunter said with a slight warning tone to his voice. “After a lot of hustling, I created my show on my own, it became a hit, and I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished and how things will progress for the show going forward.”
“As you should be, Hunter,” Addy said. “The industry in which you work is competitive as hell. To get something on television these days is a feat. Good for you, is what I say. As well as congratulations.”
When Tootie moved to speak, Addy reached out his hand to me, intentionally cutting his wife off short.
“Addison Miller,” he said as we shook hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Julia. And I must say that the gown you’re wearing is certain to be a hit tonight. Tootie and I are happy to have you with us.”
At that, Tootie cleared her throat in such a corrosive way, it sounded as if she had a cockroach lodged in it.
Which the bitch probably does.
“About your gown,” Tootie said to me. “Naturally, I recognized it on sight, and I have to agree with my husband that it is lovely. But if I’m not mistaken, wasn’t it part of Herrera’s collection two years ago?”
“In fact, it was,” I said.
“Well,” she said with a small chuckle. “How brave of you, Julia.”
“I’m sorry?” I said. “I’m not following.”
“Oh, you know, to have the guts to wear something that’s two years old—and here of all places.”
I could feel Hunter literally bristle beside me when she said that.
“Tootie, Julia looks stunning, regardless of the age of her dress. You should know that my tux is five years old. Beyond that, I’m thrilled to have Julia on my arm tonight, especially when it comes to this evening, which you’ve designed to celebrate my father’s documentary. As you know, that film features women who never could afford the kind of gown Julia is wearing—or yours, for that matter. They could never fathom the kind of wealth you’ve assembled in your home tonight. So, in the spirit of that, I’d like to thank you and Addy again for celebrating my father’s work, and by doing so, understanding that not everyone in this world is as fortunate as the majority of the people you’ve invited here tonight. As you must know, all of my father’s documentaries have a similar theme—they focus on people locked in some dire sort of need, much of which is financial. I hope you haven’t lost sight of that, or that material things are only things—as empty as the air we breathe. Anyway, thank you for having us. And thank you, Addy, for welcoming us. Now, Julia and I will get a drink at the bar, then we’ll find my parents.”
“Well, goodness,” Tootie said as she placed a hand to her chest. “Your sudden change in tone felt like a flash of lightning, Hunter—and one coupled with a clap of thunder! Unless I’m mistaken, one would think you were angry with me right now.”
Hunter reached for my hand before he nodded at both of them. “Life is too short for anger, Tootie,” he said to her. “And also for bullshit. Have a good evening.”
He held tight to my hand in a way that felt oddly protective, and my head started to whirl as he led us into the massive, crowded ballroom, which was milling with the glittering, monied elite.
And what am I to make of that? I thought as I glanced up at him and saw that his jaw was set tight in anger. He just stood up for me back there. Throughout what has turned out to be a difficult start to the evening, he’s been nothing short of a gentleman. What he’d just said to shut down Tootie was as brazen as it was amazing, and if I’m being honest with myself right now?
Hunter is confusing me.
Who is he, I wondered as I looked at him. Especially after our run-in with Immaculata? And then after the way he handled Tootie Staunton-Miller? She’s hosting this evening for his father, but still he was pissed off enough over her treatment of me to shut her down after she tried to shame me.
This man is nothing short of an enigma, I thought as we stepped deeper into the cavernous room. Despite what Immaculata and Harper said about him, what he just did back there can’t be ignored . . .
