Page 50 of Power Move
“Well, he’s good friends with Prince George,” Delanie said. “And goes to all their parties in Chicago, so I’d guess your girl is right.”
Your girl. I wanted to remind him that in youth speak that didn’t mean I wasliterallyhis girl.
“How the fuck do you know that, Lanie?” Davey asked.
“I just spent months shooting with that prince’s daughter in New York,” Lanie answered. “She’s an actress. You know her?”
“Leah Roughy?” I answered. “You know Leah? She’s like a gay icon on her own.”
“What?” Davey asked.
“Leah is bi,” I explained. “And anytime she is in London, she throws a party. The woman is fab. I’ve only been to one.”
“Oh, do tell! How?” Chloe asked.
“My ex was a friend. She had a mutual ex with Leah. She works in entertainment law and IP protection.”
“Wait… are you? Can I ask that?” Lanie asked.
“Jesus, Lanie, she’s my employee! It’s considered discrimination.”
“Legally, no. But we’re not in a hiring situation, and I’d say this is a casual conversation. I’m pan and it’s not a secret.”
“You get increasingly interesting. You take care of computers? What is that about?” Delanie asked.
“I promise you I’m pretty boring on paper,” I said. “Now, my obsession with privacy law is unhealthy and will put you to sleep. I’msofun at parties.”
“Norm would say you are,” Davey said. “Even if you did explain how we were on the forefront of privacy while also data brokering responsibly.”
My mouth dropped. “You listened to me?”
“I was sitting right there, Eva. Lanie, she’s an attorney. She doesn’t fix computers.”
“Alright, everyone!” Daphne shouted. “David, do you mind?”
“Nah, you’re doing a great job!” He joked.
She glared his way. “For those of you staying at ours, grab your luggage and toss it into the car. We can walk up that way and you can leave your cars here. There’s not enough room for everyone at ours. You know who you are.”
I followed, ready to toss my carryon into the waiting luggage car. It made things easier.
“I’ll help you,” Davey offered.
“Don’t be weird,” I whispered.
“Me offering to help you isnotweird. And if I don’t, my sisters will give me so much shit.”
“Fine,” I agreed, walking out to my mom’s car in the adjoining parking lot.
“New car?” Davey asked.
“No,” I answered. “My mom’s because I didn’t think you’d appreciate my broke pickup at your retreat.”
“It addsflavor,” he joked, pulling my bag from the lift gate.
I threw a Longchamp containing my makeup over my shoulder and followed.
He did a double-take at my expensive luggage.
