Read Online Are You Going to Kiss Me Now? by Sloane Tanen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sloane Tanen
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no questions about why she left England, a masseuse upon arrival.
“Whatever,” Milan said as her eyes glazed over. She seemed to be having a flashback as she collapsed into the nearest seat, which happened to be across from Chaz. He smiled bashfully, like she just asked him to the prom or something. She looked at him suspiciously. I handed her the purse.
“Thanks,” she said, without looking at me.
She started rifling through her bag and then turned to me sharply.
“Did you take my Klonopin?” she asked.
I shook my head.
She dug around some more and pulled out a bottle from which she fished three different-colored pills. Then she took out the mini vodka. She looked over at Chaz, who was staring at her.
“What are you looking at?” she snapped.
“You afraid of flying too?” he asked.
“No.”
She swallowed the pills with the vodka chaser and took out the US and OK! As I said, she was on the cover of both. Eve looked back and rolled her eyes.
“Can I smoke in here?” Milan asked, looking around.
“No,” Cisco and the flight attendant said in unison.
“No,” she repeated mockingly, imitating them like an eight-year-old and tossing the loose cigarette back in her two-thousand-dollar bag.
“Sweet Jesus. I’ll never forgive you for this, Yvette,” I heard Eve whisper into the phone again. Her face was consumed with anger and pride.
Milan was one of those people who would be profoundly tragic except for the fact that she’s actually talented. Her first few movies were fantastic, and this kept everyone hoping she’d get her act together. In Cheating , there was something really raw and fresh about her portrayal of a fish out of water in a cliquish Southern California high school. And she was hilarious in The Naughty Corner . I guess what set her apart was that she was a good comedian, which is a rare gift. A few years ago she had the easy charm of a young Cameron Diaz, but she was driving her SUV into Mischa Barton Town. It could have been that crazy, look-alike stage mother, the manager dad who tried to steal her money, the premature cover of Vanity Fair , or the Greek heir boyfriend who dumped her for Mary Kate Olsen, but somewhere it all went wrong. She’d been on the cover of the Enquirer so many times I felt like she must be forty by now. She wasn’t even eighteen! She did look older, though. And she certainly didn’t go out of her way to make a good impression on this group. Now here, mother, was a girl who looked like she was going out of her way to look unattractive. Not that it was totally working.
***
“And the vegan casserole with edamame, Mr. Parker. Can I get you something to drink?” the stewardess asked Cisco as she laid out his fancy entrée. Her name tag said “Erin.”
“Do you have green tea, Erin?”
“Of course.”
“And I’ll have another Red Bull, please,” Cisco added.
He’d had about four Red Bulls since we left New York, and we were only three hours into the flight at that point. His bladder control was impressive. I keep waiting for him to use the bathroom so I could pretend I was so absorbed in my book that I didn’t even notice him.
He had seemed to be on the same chapter of The Fountainhead for almost an hour and a half. There wasn’t a lot of page flipping from what I could make out. I figured he was starring in the film version and therefore studying the text carefully.
Eve ordered the sushi, of which she ate two pieces before pushing the plate away in disgust. She’d been reading scripts with a scowl on her face for the last hour. In between scripts, she compulsively lathered an expensive-looking moisturizer onto her face and neck. Milan was passed out cold. Apparently her scuffle with Erin, the flight attendant, had taken a lot out of her. It was hilarious and went like this.
“Ms. Amberson, can I get you the sushi platter or the ravioli?”
“Fried chicken.”
“We don’t have fried chicken today.”
“Well, that’s what I want.
“Whatever,” Milan said as her eyes glazed over. She seemed to be having a flashback as she collapsed into the nearest seat, which happened to be across from Chaz. He smiled bashfully, like she just asked him to the prom or something. She looked at him suspiciously. I handed her the purse.
“Thanks,” she said, without looking at me.
She started rifling through her bag and then turned to me sharply.
“Did you take my Klonopin?” she asked.
I shook my head.
She dug around some more and pulled out a bottle from which she fished three different-colored pills. Then she took out the mini vodka. She looked over at Chaz, who was staring at her.
“What are you looking at?” she snapped.
“You afraid of flying too?” he asked.
“No.”
She swallowed the pills with the vodka chaser and took out the US and OK! As I said, she was on the cover of both. Eve looked back and rolled her eyes.
“Can I smoke in here?” Milan asked, looking around.
“No,” Cisco and the flight attendant said in unison.
“No,” she repeated mockingly, imitating them like an eight-year-old and tossing the loose cigarette back in her two-thousand-dollar bag.
“Sweet Jesus. I’ll never forgive you for this, Yvette,” I heard Eve whisper into the phone again. Her face was consumed with anger and pride.
Milan was one of those people who would be profoundly tragic except for the fact that she’s actually talented. Her first few movies were fantastic, and this kept everyone hoping she’d get her act together. In Cheating , there was something really raw and fresh about her portrayal of a fish out of water in a cliquish Southern California high school. And she was hilarious in The Naughty Corner . I guess what set her apart was that she was a good comedian, which is a rare gift. A few years ago she had the easy charm of a young Cameron Diaz, but she was driving her SUV into Mischa Barton Town. It could have been that crazy, look-alike stage mother, the manager dad who tried to steal her money, the premature cover of Vanity Fair , or the Greek heir boyfriend who dumped her for Mary Kate Olsen, but somewhere it all went wrong. She’d been on the cover of the Enquirer so many times I felt like she must be forty by now. She wasn’t even eighteen! She did look older, though. And she certainly didn’t go out of her way to make a good impression on this group. Now here, mother, was a girl who looked like she was going out of her way to look unattractive. Not that it was totally working.
***
“And the vegan casserole with edamame, Mr. Parker. Can I get you something to drink?” the stewardess asked Cisco as she laid out his fancy entrée. Her name tag said “Erin.”
“Do you have green tea, Erin?”
“Of course.”
“And I’ll have another Red Bull, please,” Cisco added.
He’d had about four Red Bulls since we left New York, and we were only three hours into the flight at that point. His bladder control was impressive. I keep waiting for him to use the bathroom so I could pretend I was so absorbed in my book that I didn’t even notice him.
He had seemed to be on the same chapter of The Fountainhead for almost an hour and a half. There wasn’t a lot of page flipping from what I could make out. I figured he was starring in the film version and therefore studying the text carefully.
Eve ordered the sushi, of which she ate two pieces before pushing the plate away in disgust. She’d been reading scripts with a scowl on her face for the last hour. In between scripts, she compulsively lathered an expensive-looking moisturizer onto her face and neck. Milan was passed out cold. Apparently her scuffle with Erin, the flight attendant, had taken a lot out of her. It was hilarious and went like this.
“Ms. Amberson, can I get you the sushi platter or the ravioli?”
“Fried chicken.”
“We don’t have fried chicken today.”
“Well, that’s what I want.
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