Read Online Killing Monica by Candace Bushnell - Free Book Online
Authors: Candace Bushnell
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SondraBeth’s hair was colored to match Pandy’s by the very same stylist who did Pandy’s hair; she was given replicas of Pandy’s jewelry; she was even instructed to buy the exact same shoes that Pandy wore, in order to learn how to walk in them.
And because pink champagne was Pandy’s, and therefore Monica’s, favorite drink, it had to become SondraBeth’s as well. Along with Pandy’s social life. And so wherever Pandy went, SondraBeth went, too. This meant going to Joules almost every night, and to basically every other kind of social event imaginable, including the Polo in Bridgehampton, where SondraBeth eagerly stomped the divots and acquired a bevy of handsome new polo-player friends.
In general, SondraBeth was wonderfully game. She’d call Pandy into her room to solicit her opinion on what to wear, and would listen with great interest to Pandy’s precise briefings on who would be at what event and how they fit into the social strata, as if they were colored data points on a graph.
Unlike Pandy herself, however, back then, SondraBeth never wanted to stay Monica for long.
“I’m a country girl,” she’d say, scrubbing off her makeup with soap and changing into the loose, baggy clothing she favored when she didn’t have to be “on.” “I grew up helping the vet pull calves out of some cow’s butt. I’ve seen it all, sista, and let me tell you, it’s not all pretty.” And then she’d give Pandy a shit-eating grin, and in a voice reminiscent of Glinda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz , she would add, “Not like here. Not like in Monica Land .”
Pandy had to laugh. SondraBeth wasn’t far wrong—and instead of the yellow brick road, they had miles of sidewalks, filled with glittering displays of the most glamorous life New York City had to offer.
Besides her hardscrabble background, Pandy discovered a few more things about her real-life Monica. Interestingly, these were the kinds of things that Monica herself never would have experienced firsthand.
Such as: SondraBeth had dated a heroin addict. Her most recent ex, she explained, was a well-known actor with a nasty habit on the side. “I thought he was the love of my life, but then I found out he loved his heroin more than he loved me. You know your life is pretty bad when you can’t even compete with a bag of smack.”
Pandy laughed appreciatively. Encouraged, SondraBeth continued. “He said, ‘I love you, babe, but I love my horsie more.’ That’s what he called it: ‘my horsie.’ And even then, I didn’t want to leave him. That’s how stupid I was. But my agent and manager said I had to cut all ties.” She shrugged; despite claiming she would never be a slave to the business, it seemed her agent and her manager wielded more power than most people’s parents. “They told me to stay out of LA for a while. Take something in New York. That’s why I was so desperate to play Monica.”
“I thought you were desperate to play Monica because of me,” Pandy replied, feeling surprisingly hurt.
“Of course I wanted to play Monica because of you,” SondraBeth quickly countered, slinging her arm over Pandy’s shoulder. “But you already know that, Peege. Monica is about you and me. Not some stupid guy.”
This had made Pandy laugh. Because no matter how hard SondraBeth tried to ignore men, they simply could not tear their eyes away from her.
Pandy had had plenty of experience with the kind of electrical sexual attraction that women of great beauty exerted on men; a few of these great beauties were her closest friends. She had seen, all too often, how even the most accomplished and intelligent man could be easily reduced to his base animal desires when presented with a gorgeous woman—not to mention the self-serving fantasy that accompanied the prospect of sex. But even the seductive arts of a great beauty paled in comparison to what SondraBeth had. Her physical perfection was coupled with enormous charisma: she
And because pink champagne was Pandy’s, and therefore Monica’s, favorite drink, it had to become SondraBeth’s as well. Along with Pandy’s social life. And so wherever Pandy went, SondraBeth went, too. This meant going to Joules almost every night, and to basically every other kind of social event imaginable, including the Polo in Bridgehampton, where SondraBeth eagerly stomped the divots and acquired a bevy of handsome new polo-player friends.
In general, SondraBeth was wonderfully game. She’d call Pandy into her room to solicit her opinion on what to wear, and would listen with great interest to Pandy’s precise briefings on who would be at what event and how they fit into the social strata, as if they were colored data points on a graph.
Unlike Pandy herself, however, back then, SondraBeth never wanted to stay Monica for long.
“I’m a country girl,” she’d say, scrubbing off her makeup with soap and changing into the loose, baggy clothing she favored when she didn’t have to be “on.” “I grew up helping the vet pull calves out of some cow’s butt. I’ve seen it all, sista, and let me tell you, it’s not all pretty.” And then she’d give Pandy a shit-eating grin, and in a voice reminiscent of Glinda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz , she would add, “Not like here. Not like in Monica Land .”
Pandy had to laugh. SondraBeth wasn’t far wrong—and instead of the yellow brick road, they had miles of sidewalks, filled with glittering displays of the most glamorous life New York City had to offer.
Besides her hardscrabble background, Pandy discovered a few more things about her real-life Monica. Interestingly, these were the kinds of things that Monica herself never would have experienced firsthand.
Such as: SondraBeth had dated a heroin addict. Her most recent ex, she explained, was a well-known actor with a nasty habit on the side. “I thought he was the love of my life, but then I found out he loved his heroin more than he loved me. You know your life is pretty bad when you can’t even compete with a bag of smack.”
Pandy laughed appreciatively. Encouraged, SondraBeth continued. “He said, ‘I love you, babe, but I love my horsie more.’ That’s what he called it: ‘my horsie.’ And even then, I didn’t want to leave him. That’s how stupid I was. But my agent and manager said I had to cut all ties.” She shrugged; despite claiming she would never be a slave to the business, it seemed her agent and her manager wielded more power than most people’s parents. “They told me to stay out of LA for a while. Take something in New York. That’s why I was so desperate to play Monica.”
“I thought you were desperate to play Monica because of me,” Pandy replied, feeling surprisingly hurt.
“Of course I wanted to play Monica because of you,” SondraBeth quickly countered, slinging her arm over Pandy’s shoulder. “But you already know that, Peege. Monica is about you and me. Not some stupid guy.”
This had made Pandy laugh. Because no matter how hard SondraBeth tried to ignore men, they simply could not tear their eyes away from her.
Pandy had had plenty of experience with the kind of electrical sexual attraction that women of great beauty exerted on men; a few of these great beauties were her closest friends. She had seen, all too often, how even the most accomplished and intelligent man could be easily reduced to his base animal desires when presented with a gorgeous woman—not to mention the self-serving fantasy that accompanied the prospect of sex. But even the seductive arts of a great beauty paled in comparison to what SondraBeth had. Her physical perfection was coupled with enormous charisma: she
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