Jay McInerney - Bright, Precious Days

Hilary seconded the motion; Corrine found herself distracted by the sight of her husband, who was being escorted into the room by Declan, the eponymous host.

“Of all the gin joints in town,” Russell said.

“I hope you’re not having lunch with your girlfriend,” Declan said, mugging and winking.

Russell was maneuvering into position to kiss Nancy when he spotted Hilary and blanched.

“Hello, bro.”

“ Hilary. ” An acknowledgment, almost an exclamation, but less than a greeting. He looked stunned.

“You can blame me,” Nancy said. “I engineered this little reunion without your wife’s knowledge.”

Russell nodded contemplatively. Polite as he was, he was not ready to pretend he was okay with this.

“I could have sworn you said you didn’t come here anymore,” Corrine said, hoping to alleviate the tension. “I know I heard someone say he was tired of these uptown power lunch spots and he was going to make the world come downtown.”

“My dining companion specifically requested this venue.”

“Is your lunch date a superficial narcissist?” Nancy asked.

“Wait a minute, what does that make us?” Corrine asked.

“I’m meeting Phillip Kohout,” Russell said.

“Oh my God,” Hilary said. “Introduce me, please.”

“Me first,” Nancy countered.

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted to sign a few autographs,” Russell said. “In the meantime, I’ll leave you ladies to it.”

“Well, that seemed…fine,” Nancy said, clueless.

“If you mean there wasn’t any profanity or violence,” Corrine said, “then yes, it was a huge success.”

“Russell’s a gentleman,” said Veronica.

Corrine was tempted to take off her jacket — it was like a sauna in here — but she felt self-conscious about her arms, the flab under her biceps. “God, is anybody else hot?” she asked, fanning herself with the menu.

Veronica exchanged knowing looks with Nancy.

“What?” Corrine said.

“It’s not actually hot,” Nancy said.

“I’m practically freezing,” Hilary said.

“Well, I’m hot.”

“It’s…the change,” Nancy said.

“What change?”

“Hot flashes?”

“What? No way,” Corrine said, even as she wondered. She had been getting hot recently, especially at night, waking up in a sweat, and her period was two weeks overdue.

“Are you having trouble lubricating?”

“Lubricating?”

“You know, sexually.”

“For God’s sake,” Corrine said. “I’m just a little warm.” It seemed as if there was a pause, a dialing down of the volume in the room, as heads turned toward the entryway, where Phillip Kohout was shaking hands with Brian Williams. Escorted by the solicitous Declan, he stopped at several tables to shake hands and kiss cheeks.

“I wouldn’t mind sharing a cell with him,” Nancy said.

“He’s shorter than I expected.”

“Aren’t they always.”

As he was passing, he caught sight of Corrine and said, “My God, it’s true, everyone’s here. Corrine, you’re a vision.” He dipped in to squeeze her shoulder, and then, when this move wasn’t rebuffed, he kissed her cheek.

“And you, Phillip, are a flatterer and a clichémonger.”

“Please, Corrine,” Nancy said. “Is that any way to talk to a war hero?”

“Ms. Tanner, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” he said. “But of course I’m a big fan of your work.”

“Well, likewise,” she said. “And I admire your courage.”

“It doesn’t take much courage to get captured, I’m afraid.”

Much as she was remembering how much she disliked him and his smarmy charm, Corrine didn’t forget her manners. “Phillip, this is my friend Veronica Lee and my sister, Hilary.” Only belatedly did she realize she hadn’t afforded Hilary the courtesy of a surname, but Phillip’s reaction made it clear he didn’t require one.

After politely shaking Veronica’s hand, he clutched Hilary’s as if she were in imminent danger of falling out of her chair.

“How is it that Corrine never told me she had a sister?”

“When it comes to her intellectual friends, she’s basically ashamed of me.”

“Perhaps there’s another reason she’s kept you hidden.”

“It’s true,” Corrine said. “I’m quite protective of my little sister’s innocence.” She couldn’t quite believe that no one laughed at this.

“Well, if I promise to get her home early, perhaps you’d allow me to take her out for a drink. Only if she’s of legal drinking age, of course.”

Corrine was afraid she was going to vomit right here at the table before this grotesque insipidity was terminated with Hilary’s giving him her phone number.

“Farewell, fair ladies,” Phillip said before sliming off to Russell’s table.

“Isn’t he the charmer,” said Nancy. “He actually looks cuter in person.”

“How is it that he’s single?” Hilary asked.

“I think he was married, briefly,” Corrine said.

“What’s happened to Dan?” asked Veronica.

“Well, actually we’re not together anymore,” Hilary said. “I loved Dan — I mean, he’s a great guy and all — but ultimately it just couldn’t work. Our backgrounds were just too different. Look, we try to pretend we’re a classless society, but we’re not, and his guilt over his divorce really dragged our relationship down. Last I heard, he was about to move back in with his ex-wife, which is fine with me. Though it makes me kind of wonder, you know, what was the point of our whole relationship.”

“From his point of view,” Nancy said, “I’d guess he probably got some excellent sex.”

“I’ve already gotten two drunken late-night booty calls,” Hilary said. “But it’s over. I’ve moved on, and he will, too.”

Corrine already knew about the split but wanted to hear Hilary’s take. She found her little sister’s snobbery kind of amusing, this idea of some great class divide between them. If anything, Dan, with his Queens College degree, was far better educated than Hilary, who dropped out of horsey Hollins after freshman year, though it was true she’d attended some of the country’s more prestigious boarding schools — all of which eventually requested that she leave. Corrine had always believed Dan was a decent man, not to mention a steadying influence, and she was sorry he was gone. He was also the breadwinner, which raised the question of how Hilary was supporting herself — the answer to which was usually synonymous with whomever she was sleeping with.

“I’m working on a pilot for a TV show — kind of a Sex and the City, but grittier,” Hilary said after Veronica broached the subject of employment. “And I had a part in Law & Order last month.”

“Is that still shooting?” Veronica asked.

“I love Law & Order, ” Nancy said.

“And that pays the rent?” Corrine asked skeptically.

Nancy gave her a look.

“I’m actually staying at a friend’s place on 57th right now. It’s pretty nice. You should come see it.”

Ah yes, a friend.

The denuded Cobbs arrived, large white bowls of naked lettuce, along with a bottle of Pinot Grigio. Everything was either white or green.

“Maybe I could get you a part in my movie,” Nancy said.

“Is it happening?”

“We start shooting this summer in New York.”

“That’s great.”

“Well, it’s ninety percent,” Nancy said. The adaptation of her second novel had been on the verge of getting made for the last five or six years, not actually that long, when you considered the history of Youth and Beauty.

“Who’s playing you?”