Read Online Last Night at Chateau Marmont by Lauren Weisberger - Free Book Online

her son. Everyone pointedly ignored the emphasis on “finally”—everyone except Julian, whose face registered the hit, and Brooke, who witnessed it.
    After all these years Brooke was certainly accustomed to hearing Julian’s parents say awful things, but she never hated them any less for it. When she and Julian were first dating, he had slowly revealed how fundamentally his parents disapproved of him and of the life he’d chosen. During their engagement, she’d seen their objection to the plain gold band Julian insisted on giving Brooke rather than one of the “Alter family estate pieces” his mother had pushed. Even when Brooke and Julian conceded to marrying at the Alters’ home in the Hamptons, his parents had been horrified at the couple’s insistence that the wedding be small, low-key, and off-season. After they were married and in the years since, when the Alters acted more freely infront of her, she saw at countless dinners and brunches and holidays just how toxic they could be.
    “Well, basically it means that they realize the album is close to being finished and they really like it so far. They’re going to arrange a showcase of industry people, sort of introduce me to them in a private performance, and then gauge the reaction.” Julian, who was usually so modest he wouldn’t even tell Brooke when he’d had a good day at the recording studio, couldn’t help but beam with pride. She wanted to kiss him on the spot.
    “I might not know a whole lot about the music industry, but that sounds like a huge vote of confidence on their part,” Brooke’s dad said, holding his glass aloft.
    Julian couldn’t contain his smile. “It is,” he said, grinning. “It’s probably the best-case scenario right now. And I’m hoping—”
    He stopped as the phone began to ring and Julian’s mother immediately began to look around for a handset. “Oh, where is that damn phone? That must be L’Olivier calling to confirm a time for tomorrow. Hold that thought, dear. If I don’t reserve them now, I’m not going to have flowers for tomorrow night’s party.” And with that, she unfolded herself from the couch and disappeared into the kitchen.
    “You know your mother with her flowers,” Dr. Alter said. He sipped his coffee, and it was unclear whether or not he’d even heard Julian’s announcement. “We’re having the Bennetts and the Kamens over for dinner tomorrow and she’s been in a tizzy about the planning. Christ, you’d think the decision between stuffed sole or braised short ribs was a matter of national security. And the flowers! She must have spent half the afternoon with those
fegelas
last weekend, and she’s still wavering. I told her a thousand times: no one cares about the flowers; no one will notice. Everyone throws these lavish weddings and spends tens of thousands of dollars on mountains of orchids or whatever the hell is in fashion these days, and who ever even looks at the damn things? Such a colossal waste, if you ask me. Spend themoney on great food and booze—that’s what people really enjoy.” He took another gulp, looked around the room, and squinted. “Now, what were we talking about?”
    Cynthia gracefully stepped in and smoothed over the tense moment. “Well isn’t that just some of the greatest news we’ve heard in ages!” she said with excessive enthusiasm. Brooke’s dad nodded excitedly. “Where exactly will it be held? How many people are invited? Have you decided yet what you’re going to play?” Cynthia peppered him with questions and for once Brooke didn’t find the interrogation irritating. They were all the things Julian’s own parents should have asked but never would, and Julian was clearly delighted to be on the receiving end of such interest.
    “It’ll be at a small, really intimate downtown music venue, and my agent said they were inviting about fifty people in the industry—television and radio bookers, music execs, some people from MTV, that sort of