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was thinking。
“Andy； her blood alcohol level was nearly twice the legal
limit。” He stated this matter…of…factly； trying not to swallow
the words so I wouldn’t ask him to repeat them。
“Oh my god。”
“If—when—she wakes up； she’s going to have even more to deal
with than her health： she’s in a lot of trouble。 Luckily； the
cabbie was OK； just a few bumps and bruises； and Benjamin’s
left leg is pletely smashed up； but he’ll be fine； too。 We
just need to wait for Lily。 When are you ing Home？”
“What？” I was still trying to process the fact that Lily had
been “seeing” a guy I’d always thought she hated； that she’d
ended up in a a because she was so drunk when she was with
him。
“I said； when are you ing home？” When I was silent for a
moment； he continued。 “You are ing Home； aren’t you？ You’re
not seriously considering staying there while your best friend
on earth lies in a hospital bed； are you？”
“What are you suggesting； Alex？ Are you suggesting that this
is my fault because I didn’t see it ing？ That she’s lying
in that hospital bed because I’m in Paris right now？ That if I
had known she was hanging out with Benjamin again none of this
would have happened？ What？ What exactly are you saying？” I
shrieked； all of the confusing emotions of the night boiling
over into a simple； urgent need to scream at someone else。
“No； I didn’t say any of that。 You did。 I just assumed that of
course you’d be ing Home to be with her as soon as
possible。 I’m not passing judgment on you； Andy—you know that。
I also know that it’s really late for you already and there’s
nothing you can do in the next couple hours； so why don’t you
call me when you know what flight you’re on。 I’ll pick you up
at the airport and we can e straight to the hospital。”
“Fine。 Thanks for being there for her。 I really appreciate it
and I know Lily does； too。 I’ll call you when I know what I’m
doing。”
“OK； Andy。 I miss you。 And I know you’ll do the right thing。”
The line went dead before I could pounce all over that one。
Do the right thing？ Theright thing？ What the hell did that
mean？ I hated that he had just assumed I would jump on a plane
and race Home because he told me to。 Hated his condescending；
preachy tone of voice that immediately made me feel like one
of his students who’d just been caught talking during class。
Hated that he was the one who was with Lily now even though
she was my friend； that he was the one acting as a liaison
between my own parents and me； that he was once again sitting
on his moral high horse and calling the shots。 Gone were the
old days； when I might have hung up forted by his presence；
knowing that we were in this together and would get through it
together； instead of as warring factions。 When had things
bee like this？
There was no energy left to point out the obvious to him；
namely； that if I left early to e Home； I’d be fired
immediately and my entire year of servitude would have been
for nothing。 I had managed to suppress that awful thought
before it took full form in my mind： that my being there or
not being there would mean absolutely nothing to Lily right
now； since she was unconscious and unaware in a hospital bed。
The options swirled around in my mind。 Perhaps I would stay
just long enough to help with the party and then try to
explain to Miranda what happened and make a plea for my job。
Or； if it appeared that Lily was awake and alert； someone
could explain that I would be on my way as soon as possible；
at that point probably just a couple more days。 And while both
of these explanations sounded somewhat reasonable in the dark
hours of early morning after a long night of dancing and many
glasses of bubbly and a phone call telling me my best friend
was in a a because of her own drunk driving； somewhere down
deep I knew—I knew—that neither of them was。
“Ahn…dre…ah； leave a message at Horace Mann that the girls
will be missing school on Monday because they’ll be in Paris
with me； and make sure you get a list of all the work they’ll
need to make up。 Also； push back my dinner tonight until
eight…thirty； and if they’re not happy about that； then just
cancel it。 Have you located a copy of that book I asked you
for yesterday？ I need four copies—two in French； two in
English—before I meet them at the restaurant。 Oh； and I want a
final copy of the edited menu for tomorrow’s party to reflect
the changes I made。 Make certain that there will be no sushi
of any kind； do you hear me？”
“Yes； Miranda；” I said； scribbling as quickly as possible in
the Smythson notebook the accessories department had
thoughtfully included with my array of bags； shoes； belts； and
jewelry。 We were in the car on our way to the Dior show—my
first—with Miranda spitting out rapid…fire instructions with
no regard for the fact that I’d gotten less than two hours of
sleep。 The knock on my door came at 7：45A 。M。 from one of
Monsieur Renaud’s junior concierges who was there personally
to wake me up and see that I was dressed in time to attend the
show with Miranda； who had herself decided she’d like my
assistance just six minutes earlier。 He had politely ignored
my being quite obviously passed out on the still made bed and
had even dimmed the lights； which had blazed all night。 I had
twenty…five minutes to shower； consult the fashion book； dress
myself； and do my own makeup； since my woman was not scheduled
to e this early。
I awoke with a minor champagne headache； but the real jolt of
pain came when the previous night’s phone calls came flashing
back。 Lily！ I needed to call Alex or my parents and see if
anything had happened in the l