Tales of the City 06 - Sure of You

crowd parted a little, permitting a brief, dramatic glimpse of Chloe Rand. A pin spot intended for Prue’s Hockney struck her face and rendered it classic: silky auburn hair, very short, and an elegant Castilian nose, which seemed to begin its descent in the middle of her forehead. Mary Ann was impressed.
    “Isn’t she stunning?” said Father Paddy.
    “Very striking, yes.”
    “Did you see the spread in Vanity Fair? ”
    “Yeah.”
    “She’s wearing a Rand Band,” said the priest. “According to Prue.”
    “A what?”
    “That’s what he calls his new line of wedding rings. Rand Bands.”
    “Cute,” said Mary Ann. “I thought they were supposed to be affordable.”
    “They are.”
    “And you think that’s her real wedding ring?”
    Father Paddy smirked. “What a naughty girl you are.”
    The crowd shifted again, and Russell Rand’s famous profile came knifing into view. Scrubbed and tan, athletically lean, he looked uncannily like his wife, which lent a distinctly incestuous appeal to the intimacy they expressed so freely—and so frequently—in the presence of others.
    “He bought her a Phantom jet for her birthday,” said Father Paddy.
    “Really?”
    The priest nodded, widening his eyes. “Not a shabby little giftie, eh?”
    “No,” she replied, almost mesmerized by the miraculous synchronism of those two shining faces. What must it be like to present such a picture of unity to the world? To share with someone else a life in which work and play are so artfully interwoven?
    Why had she ever settled for less than that? Didn’t she deserve the same thing? How had this happened to her?
    “Let’s go say hello,” said Father Paddy. “It looks like there’s an opening.”
    “I think I’ll wait.” The last thing she wanted was to face the Couple of the Year in the company of this gossipy old auntie. “You go ahead.”
    “Suit yourself,” he said, smiling. Then he clasped his hands across his stomach and glided off majestically, eyes on the horizon, like a wise man in search of a star.

    She watched from several different places in the room as the priest bent their ear—and it did seem like one ear. Among the excited throng she spotted Lia Belli, several Aliotos, and the clownishly made up Frannie Halcyon Manigault, pushing seventy from the other side. She had half expected to see DeDe and D’orotltea there—hadn’t D’or once modeled for Russell Rand?—but the couple was nowhere in sight.
    When the Rands were finally free of Father Paddy, she waited a moment before moving into their line of sight. As luck would have it, Chloe locked eyes with her almost immediately and gave her a sisterly smile.
    “Hi,” said Mary Ann, extending her hand. “I’m Mary Ann Singleton.”
    Chloe took her hand cordially. “Chloe Rand. And this is Russell.” Looking to her husband, she saw that he’d been set upon by someone else, so she gave Mary Ann a wide-eyed shrug and said: “I think we lost him.” It came off as pleasant and schoolchummy.
    “You must be exhausted,” said Mary Ann.
    Chloe smiled without showing her teeth. “It’s been busy.”
    “I’ll bet.”
    “Have we met before?”
    Mary Ann shook her head and smiled.
    “You look really familiar somehow. I guess I should know you, huh?”
    “Not really. I know how many faces you see.”
    “I know, but…”
    “I host the morning talk show here.”
    Chloe nodded. “Right. Of course. We watched you on our last trip here.”
    “Really?” She tried to sound pleased without getting gushy about it. Behave like a peer and they’ll treat you like one. This was the first law of survival.
    “It’s a great show,” said Chloe.
    She ducked her head graciously. “Thanks.”
    “Russell,” said Chloe, taking her husband’s arm in such a way as to effect his escape. “I hate to pull you away, but this is Mary Ann Singletary.”
    “Singleton,” said Mary Ann.
    “Oh, hell.” Chloe buried her elegant nose in her palm.
    “It’s O.K.,” she replied, shaking the designer’s hand, reassuring Chloe with a look.
    Russell Rand gave her a world-weary smile. “It’s been one of those days, if you know what I mean.” Like Chloe, he was making a gallant effort to draw her into their circle of intimacy.
    Mary Ann wanted him to know that she sympathized, that she had a public every bit as demanding as his. “I know exactly what you mean,” she said.
    “Mary Ann has a talk show,” said Chloe. “ People Are Talking,