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.”Blackwell lifted a finger to her lips.“Oh, dear,” she said.“Oh, my word.” She dropped her hand to her strand of pearls.“These were a gift from Alex.He gave them to me just two years ago.I wore them tonight for him and in support of Wenn.I hope your comment doesn’t insult him.You know, the insinuation that they’re somehow lesser in importance because they aren’t diamonds….”“Well, I didn’t mean—”“Because they were a lovely gift, Tootie.They mean a great deal to me, as does Alex.For some of us, tonight isn’t about putting on a show.Tonight is about celebrating Alex and what he has done for literature.”She looked at Alex.“I hope you know—”“It’s fine, Tootie,” he said.“It’s just that—”“Really.No harm done.”“But wasn’t there?” Blackwell said.“I mean, these pearls aren’t exactly bringing down the room, for God’s sake.”“I love them,” Jennifer said.Tootie glanced at Jennifer, and I saw her gaze sweep over her dress.“It’s good to see you alive, Jennifer.”“As opposed to seeing me dead?”She gave a little laugh that sounded almost too light.“Why do I feel as if all of my comments are being misconstrued? I was just referring to what happened to you a few months ago.How awful that must have been.Someone out to kill you.It was in all the papers.”“It’s also all in the past, Tootie.”“So it is.” Again, she looked at Jennifer’s dress.“Is that Valentino?” she asked.“Marc Jacobs.”“No, no.Valentino.”“Sorry.Marc Jacobs.”“Anyway, it’s so form-fitting, don’t you think? It leaves nothing to the imagination.Goodness!”“I think it’s beautiful,” Alex said.“Hear, hear,” Addy said.“Maybe my set is just a bit more conservative than yours,” Tootie said.“We always have been.We tend to err on the side of caution when it comes to fashion.”“Just fashion?” I asked.“Oh, probably other things as well.We never want to be viewed as gauche.”“What a shame,” I said.“So many limitations, Tootie.So much holding you back.All of that weight must show on a scale.”“It must show on a what?”“A scale, but only figuratively.Your set misses out on so much.Fashion is one of the great liberators of our time.You should embrace it.Take risks with it.Let the devil inside you expose itself in Prada, for instance.I think you’d be perfect for that.” She shook her head.“But enough about fashion.Tonight is about literature.”“Literature,” Tootie said.“Perhaps that I can talk about without stepping onto some concealed land mine.With those horrid electronic books on the rise, Addy and I thought we should come tonight to support traditional publishing because we prefer physical books to those awful, bright, blinking books.It’s through my master’s in English, after all, that I met so many of the greats.”I looked at her.“May I ask whom you consider among the greats?”“First of all, may I ask who you are? We haven’t met.”“Look above you,” Jennifer said.“See that large photograph there? Just above your head? Yes, that one.That’s Lisa Ward.The one you haven’t met.She’s among the eighteen authors being recognized tonight.”Tootie and Addy looked up.Addy was the first to look down.“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms.Ward,” he said.He took my hand in his and kissed the back of it.“It’s a pleasure.Please call me Lisa.”“Lisa it is.You look lovely, my dear.Ravishing.”“Thank you, Mr.Miller.”“It’s Addy.Always Addy.None of this ‘Mr.Miller’ stuff.”He really was kind.Better yet, he seemed unaffected—unlike his wife, who now was giving me the once over.“Is that Prada?” she asked.“So, it’s back to fashion….” Blackwell sighed.“It is Prada,” I said.“I saw it on the runway.”“You don’t say?”“Paris.That plunging neckline of yours will certainly turn heads tonight.”“I would imagine that the designer intended for that.”“It seems so aggressive for an event such as this.So much flesh on display at a benefit to support books.Goodness!”“I think it’s beautiful,” Tank said.Tootie looked up and blinked at Tank.“Oh.Well, of course, it is.Prada and everything.You can’t go wrong.Well, not really.”“As you know, Tootie, when my mother was alive, she adored Prada,” Alex said.“She especially loved their dresses.You remember mother in Prada, don’t you?”“What I remember is her in Dior.But, yes, also Prada.And Karl, of course.She loved Karl.Such style your mother had.Such panache.Did she ever go wrong? No.Fashion was just an extension of her.We miss her so much, Alex.Even after all these years.”“Thank you, Tootie.”Addy looked up again at my photograph.“I have to say, Lisa—I love your lips.”“How crass,” Tootie said.“I’m referring to the diamonds on them in the photograph, dear.”“Thank you,” I said.“I also love how Bernie and Barbara styled me, but some say it was a bit of a risk.”“I agree,” Tootie said.“A bold one.My goodness.I don’t know what to say about them or that book jacket of yours.It unnerves me, sort of like the title itself—‘I, Zombie [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]