that sprawl almost as far as the Hotel Bel-Air. The driveway was lit with flaresand as usual Daphne had gone way overboard with the flowers. There were huge vases filled with jasmine flowers and branches absolutely everywhere you looked, even in the restrooms. She’d gone completely over the top with the staff, too. Daphne likes to have about fifteen butlers per guest, which makes for a very crowded party. When we arrived, the drawing room was so full that guests were already spilling out onto the terrace towards the pool. The whole garden was lit with lanterns Daphne had picked up on one of her shopping trips to Morocco, and loungey tapestried rugs and cushions were spread out on the lawn. I’d barely had a chance to take in the scene before Zach veered off in the direction of Daphne’s collector friends, leaving me standing alone in the center of the party.
Daphne suddenly grabbed my arm and introduced me to a young actress, Betthina Evans, who’d just won a Golden Globe. Betthina was an immaculate size zero; you know, how actresses are: tiny, petite, perfect. She had long, gleaming, honey-colored hair and was dressed in a yellow satin slip dress and strappy silver sandals. She was totally channeling Kate Hudson, which is what everyone is doing in LA right now. She was wearing a sparkling engagement ring the size of Manhattan.
“Oh, I’m engaged, too,” I said.
“Where’s your ring?” said Betthina examining my left hand.
“My fiancé hasn’t got it yet.”
It was true. Zach kept saying he was going to get me a ring, but somehow he never got around to it. I don’t mean to sound superficial, but it was bugging the hell out of me. I mean, an engagement with no ring is like Elvis without the rhinestones, or a Bellini without the peach juice. I didn’t care what kind of ring it was, but I wanted one. Zach had it easy with me. I’d made no specific demands regarding the ring, whereas Jolene had told her husband-to-be before he proposed that anything less than a D-flawless, five-carat diamond would be unacceptable.
“Eew!” shrieked Betthina. “There is no way I would have agreed to marry Tommy if he hadn’t given me a ring bigger than California when he asked me.”
“I’d feel terrible if someone got me a huge ring,” I said.
This isn’t quite true, actually. Secretly, I wanted a ring that was bigger than the planet but that isn’t the kind of thing you should admit, so I never do.
“No matter how big a ring starts out, it shrinks when you wear it. And, okay, so this ring was, like, a quarter of a million, but when you look at it from the point of view of what Tommy’s getting— me —it makes it seem cheap, because I am priceless,” said Betthina conclusively.
“Oh,” I said. Starlets must be exceptionally good at figures because I could never have come up with that equation.
“Is it true, what I read in Liz Smith? That he gave you the Drowned Truck? How romantic! And listen, even if there wasn’t a ring, I’d agree to an engagement with the hottest photographer in New York. What a fabulous career move! And you’ll get so much press when you break up with him, but just make sure you end it before anyone thinks you’re really gonna go through with it.”
I must have looked beyond upset, because Betthina suddenly put her arm around my shoulder. She patted me, as though I needed comforting.
“God! I’m sorry! I say the worst things! But…you’re really going to marry a… photographer? It’s just everyone gets engaged here all the time and they don’t really mean it, especially with really creative people like your fiancé,” she gasped, embarrassed. “I mean, there’s no way I’m marrying Tommy. Eew, gross ! Shall we go and talk to your guy? God, look at him! He’s unbelievably cute.”
Betthina started walking toward Zach. I held her back and whispered, “Actually, um…do you mind? It’s just, we’re not getting on brilliantly tonight. I mean, actually…he’s not
Daphne suddenly grabbed my arm and introduced me to a young actress, Betthina Evans, who’d just won a Golden Globe. Betthina was an immaculate size zero; you know, how actresses are: tiny, petite, perfect. She had long, gleaming, honey-colored hair and was dressed in a yellow satin slip dress and strappy silver sandals. She was totally channeling Kate Hudson, which is what everyone is doing in LA right now. She was wearing a sparkling engagement ring the size of Manhattan.
“Oh, I’m engaged, too,” I said.
“Where’s your ring?” said Betthina examining my left hand.
“My fiancé hasn’t got it yet.”
It was true. Zach kept saying he was going to get me a ring, but somehow he never got around to it. I don’t mean to sound superficial, but it was bugging the hell out of me. I mean, an engagement with no ring is like Elvis without the rhinestones, or a Bellini without the peach juice. I didn’t care what kind of ring it was, but I wanted one. Zach had it easy with me. I’d made no specific demands regarding the ring, whereas Jolene had told her husband-to-be before he proposed that anything less than a D-flawless, five-carat diamond would be unacceptable.
“Eew!” shrieked Betthina. “There is no way I would have agreed to marry Tommy if he hadn’t given me a ring bigger than California when he asked me.”
“I’d feel terrible if someone got me a huge ring,” I said.
This isn’t quite true, actually. Secretly, I wanted a ring that was bigger than the planet but that isn’t the kind of thing you should admit, so I never do.
“No matter how big a ring starts out, it shrinks when you wear it. And, okay, so this ring was, like, a quarter of a million, but when you look at it from the point of view of what Tommy’s getting— me —it makes it seem cheap, because I am priceless,” said Betthina conclusively.
“Oh,” I said. Starlets must be exceptionally good at figures because I could never have come up with that equation.
“Is it true, what I read in Liz Smith? That he gave you the Drowned Truck? How romantic! And listen, even if there wasn’t a ring, I’d agree to an engagement with the hottest photographer in New York. What a fabulous career move! And you’ll get so much press when you break up with him, but just make sure you end it before anyone thinks you’re really gonna go through with it.”
I must have looked beyond upset, because Betthina suddenly put her arm around my shoulder. She patted me, as though I needed comforting.
“God! I’m sorry! I say the worst things! But…you’re really going to marry a… photographer? It’s just everyone gets engaged here all the time and they don’t really mean it, especially with really creative people like your fiancé,” she gasped, embarrassed. “I mean, there’s no way I’m marrying Tommy. Eew, gross ! Shall we go and talk to your guy? God, look at him! He’s unbelievably cute.”
Betthina started walking toward Zach. I held her back and whispered, “Actually, um…do you mind? It’s just, we’re not getting on brilliantly tonight. I mean, actually…he’s not
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