didnât just spring from the streets of New York with a pen in your hand.â
âOf course I have a mother, but why would she call you?â
âStella, isnât it?â
âYes, the beautiful Stella.â
âIf sheâs anything like you, she must certainly be very beautiful.â
âOh, câmon,â Madison said, embarrassed by his compliment. âMy mother is a real beauty. Marilyn Monroe in her heyday.â
âHow exciting,â Anton said. âI wouldâve loved a mother that resembled the divine Marilyn.â
âWhat did Stella want?â
âTo inquire about a design concept for their new apartment.â
âWhat new apartment?â Madison said, puzzled. âMy parents live in Connecticut. They havenât lived in New York for ten years.â
âApparently theyâre moving back.â
âI donât get it,â she said, completely bewildered. âFirst of all, why would Stella call you and not Jamie? And secondly, how come I donât know about this so-called apartment?â
âMaybe theyâre planning to surprise you.â
âYeah, sureâthatâll be the day. The only surprise my mother ever gave me was when she once complimented a piece I wrote on Eddie Murphy.â
âEddie Murphy?â
âYeah. Can you believe it? I write about politicians and all these other fascinating people, and the only one she has anything to say about is Eddie Murphy.â
âMaybe she likes them black and bold,â Anton said with a knowing chuckle.
âHave you seen my father? Heâs the best-looking man walking.â
âReally?â Anton said, perking up. âHow old is he?â
âFifty-eight. Too old for you. Rumor is you donât like âem over twenty-five.â
âOh, dear,â Anton said, feigning dismay. âMy reputationâs out.â
Madison laughed. âIâm finding Jamie. I need to talk to someone sane.â
Jamie wasnât in the guest powder room.
âMiss Jamie is in Mr. Antonâs bedroom,â Antonâs Filipino housekeeper informed her.
âThanks,â she said, still wondering about Stella calling Anton. What was that all about? Her parents loved Connecticut, why would they consider moving back to New York? Especially without telling her.
Oh well . . . sheâd find out tomorrow.
Jamie was sitting in front of Antonâs art deco mirrored vanity, applying lipstick with a trembling hand and a long thin brush.
âWhatâs up with you?â Madison asked, perching on the edge of the tub.
âKris Phoenix wants me to meet him at his hotel,â Jamie said, her voice husky.
âWhat?â
âYou heard. He asked me to meet him.â
âWhen?â
âLater.â
âAre you kidding?â
âNo.â
âWhat about Peter?â
âWhat about him?â Jamie answered defiantly.
âHe thinks youâre going off him.â
âHa!â
âThis is crazy,â Madison said, shaking her head.
âWhy?â Jamie said stubbornly. âI know heâs screwing around on me.â
âYou donât know, you merely suspect. You canât go running off in the middle of the night to meet with some aging rock star.â
âI can if I want to.â
âDid you and Peter have a fight?â
âNo.â
âThen why are you acting like this?â
âTo see if he cares.â
âOf course he cares,â Madison said, quite exasperated. âHe wouldnât be with you if he didnât.â
âPeople stay together for many different reasons,â Jamie said mysteriously, applying a touch of blush to her already glowing complexion.
âAnyway,â Madison said, âI have the number of a private investigator, and I think you should meet with him.â
âMe? What about you?â Jamie wailed.
âCorrect me if Iâm
Richard Ellis Preston Jr.