Simmer Down

strong desire to sit this woman down to discuss her need for incessant Botox treatments, but I reminded myself that I was here as Adrianna’s assistant.
    “Hi, Dora. This is my new assistant. She’ll be helping me out today.”
    Dora barely glanced at me and didn’t seem to recognize me or to care that Adrianna hadn’t told her my name. Her lack of interest was going to make my undercover operation easy. “Let’s go to our suite. My suite now, I guess.”
    As we followed Dora up a winding staircase to the second floor, my stomach churned at the gaudy decor. The dominant colors were nausea-inducing mauves and greens. Pastel furniture filled the large rooms. Dora wore a hot-pink silk robe with a lacy negligee peeking through the top, and slippers with miniature feathery boas fluffing out of the straps. Ade turned to me and covered her mouth as she made silent retching motions. I smacked her arm away and willed myself not to have an attack of the giggles.
    We settled in the master bedroom, which was all pale chartreuse and at least the size of my entire condo. Dora seated herself in a chair she’d placed in the center of the room so that it faced the television. To keep myself out of Dora’s eyeshot, I stood behind her—not that she noticed people like me.
    “So how are you doing, Dora?” Adrianna said with fake concern as she wrapped Dora in a nylon cape. “I am so sorry to hear about Oliver. You must be devastated, you poor thing.” I loved watching Ade kiss some ass.
    “It’s the worst week of my life, without a doubt,” Dora agreed. “I’ve been with Oliver forever, and now he’s just gone.”
    She grabbed the remote and started flipping channels. Oh, good. Perfect Strangers was on. And coming up next, Shannen Doherty’s brilliant made-for-TV movie Friends ’Til the End, in which Shannen stars as the lead singer of a rock band who acquires her very own stalker. Unbeknownst to the other women in the room, I’d seen this movie a few times and considered it one of the best guilty pleasures of all time. By exerting superhuman self-control, I might be able to refrain from humming along to ex-Brenda singing the idiotic “Does Anybody Hear Me?” I seriously hoped that Dora wasn’t planning to start flipping channels again.
    Adrianna began combing Dora’s hair and clipping up sections in preparation for foiling in highlights. “What’s going to happen to Oliver’s business now that he’s gone?”
    “Oh, the Full Moon Group will be fine. All their businesses run themselves at this point. Truthfully, I’m a little relieved that I don’t have to listen to any more talk about Oliver’s unfailing sense of brotherhood with that goddamn group. I loved him, but I didn’t love his work. Especially Barry and his ridiculous desire to convince people that he’s some kind of aristocrat. A gourmet restaurant is nothing hut a silly, expensive hobby. Oliver was the one who knew how to make the money, and all Barry wanted to do was throw it away by opening a fancy new place with great food and no profits. Don’t get me wrong. I like to eat out at nice restaurants as much as the next person, but I don’t want to own one. But they’d known each other for years, so Oliver could take Barry’s irritating whims better than I could. I don’t know how Oliver was so patient with Barry, but he thought of him more like a brother than a partner, so those two had a sibling love-hate relationship. They’d be fighting one minute, and the next, everything would be fine.”
    Adrianna held her hand out, and I handed her more hair clips. “Can you grab the foils out of the bag while I finish this?” Her tone of voice was meant to make her sound like a master speaking to an apprentice.
    “So you’re going out tonight, Dora? I’m glad you’re getting out of the house.”
    “Yes, Sarka insisted that I join her and Barry tonight at some new restaurant.” Oh, great. She was going to be at Simmer for the grand opening. “I’m only going because Sarka is truthfully a very nice woman, and she doesn’t want me to lock myself in the house forever.” In this case, “forever” meant the entire three days since her husband had been murdered. Three days, and this woman was actually going out to dinner to celebrate New Year’s Eve!
    “Dear,” Dora continued. “I’ve forgotten to ask you. Would you be able to stop at Sarka’s to do her hair for tonight? Barry called me last night to see how I was doing, and when