Genuine Lies

health conscious or not, Americans will always go for the burger.”
    “There is that.” She smiled at the waiter. “Just a salad, tossed with lemon juice and pepper.”
    The irony of that would escape her, Eve thought, and ordered chili. “Now …” Eve picked up her glass again. “Tell me all the gossip.”
    “Actually, you head the list.” Gloria tapped her short clear-coated nails against the wineglass. “Everyone’s talking about your book.”
    “How satisfying. And what do they say?”
    “There’s a lot of curiosity.” Stalling, Gloria switched from wine to water. “More than a little resentment.”
    “And I was hoping for fear.”
    “There’s that too. Fear of being included. Fear of being excluded.”
    “Darling, you’ve made my day.”
    “You can joke, Eve,” she began, then clammed up as the bread was served. She broke off a corner of her roll, then crumbled it in her plate. “People are worried.”
    “Specifically?”
    “Well, it’s no secret how Tony Kincade feels. Then I heard that Anna del Rio was muttering about libel suits.”
    Eve smiled as she slathered butter on a roll. “Anna’s a delightful and innovative designer, God knows. But is she so stupid to believe the general public cares what she snorts in the back room?”
    “Eve.” Flushed and embarrassed, Gloria gulped her wine. Her gaze darted nervously around the room as she checked to see if anyone could hear. “You can’t go around saying things like that. I certainly don’t approve of drugs—I’ve done three public service announcements—but Anna’s very powerful. And if she uses a bit now and then, recreationally—”
    “Gloria, don’t be any more stupid than necessary. She’s a junkie with a five-thousand-dollar-a-day habit.”
    “You can’t know—”
    “I do know.” For once Eve was discreet enough to pause as the waiter returned to serve their food. At her nod, their glasses were refilled. “Exposing Anna might save her life,” Eve continued, “though I’d be lying if I claimed to have any altruistic motive. Who else?”
    “Too many to count.” Gloria stared at her salad. As she did for any role, she had rehearsed this lunch for hours. “Eve, these people are your friends.”
    “Hardly.” Her appetite healthy, Eve dug into the chili. “For the most part, they are people I’ve worked with, attended functions with. Some I’ve slept with. As for friendship, I can count on one hand the people in this business I consider true friends.”
    Gloria’s mouth moved into the pout that had charmed millions. “And do you count me?”
    “Yes, I do.” Eve enjoyed another spoonful before she spoke again. “Gloria, some of what I’ll say will hurt, some might heal. But that’s not the point.”
    “What is the point?” Gloria leaned forward, her big blue eyes intense.
    “To tell my story, all of it, no wavering. That includes the people who have walked in and out of that story. I won’t lie for myself or for anyone.”
    Reaching out, Gloria clamped her fingers around Eve’s wrist. Even that move had been practiced, but in rehearsal Gloria’s fingers had been soft and pleading. In the performancethey were strong and urgent, hardened by genuine emotion. “I trusted you.”
    “With good cause,” Eve reminded her. She’d known it was coming, was sorry it couldn’t be avoided. “You had no one else to go to.”
    “Does that give you the right to take something so private, so personal, and destroy me with it?”
    With a sigh, Eve used her free hand to lift her drink. “As I tell the story, there will be people and events that interlink, that will be impossible to delete. If I left one part out to protect one person, the whole business collapses.”
    “How could what I did all those years ago have possibly affected your life?”
    “I can’t begin to explain,” Eve murmured. There was a pain here, a surprising one, one the medication wouldn’t touch. “It will all come out, and I hope with all my heart you’ll understand.”
    “You’ll ruin me, Eve.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. Do you really believe that people will be shocked or appalled by the fact that a naive twenty-four-year-old girl who fell unwisely in love with a manipulative man chose to have an abortion?”
    “When that girl is Gloria DuBarry, yes.” She snatched her hand back. It hovered by the wine a moment, then veered toward the water. She couldn’t afford to get sloppy in public. “I made myself an