Lipstick Jungle

“Nico O’Neilly?” a young woman dressed in black with a headset asked.

“Yes,” Nico said pleasantly.

“We have a seat reserved for you in Wendy Healy’s row. I think your husband is already here.”

“Thank you,” Nico said, following the young woman down the aisle. In the middle was a row of seats with “Healy” taped to the backs. Shane was at one end, next to Tyler and Magda, who was sitting next to her darling Katrina (how gorgeous she looked—that face, it broke her heart), followed by Seymour, who was sporting his new tie. Magda and Katrina were both wearing their fuzzy hats. They were good friends now, both with ponies and hats, she thought—how wonderful for them. She hoped they’d be friends forever . . . There were three empty seats on Seymour’s other side. She would sit next to him, and then Victory and Lyne would sit next to her. She glanced down to the end of the row. There were a couple of empty seats on the other side of Shane—that meant Selden would have to sit next to Shane! she thought. But no, Wendy would sit in between them. And this settled, she took her seat next to Seymour.

“Hello,” she whispered.

“Hello,” he said. He glanced at his watch—his way of inquiring about why she was late.

“Traffic,” she said. “There are about a thousand people out there . . .” She stared across him to the other side of the row. Selden Rose was coming down the aisle. He was stopping . . . looking at Shane . . . and now he was sitting down, just as she’d predicted, with a seat left for Wendy in between them. Shane was ignoring Selden, he was staring straight ahead. Well, Shane was going to have to get used to Selden now, Nico thought. She wondered if Shane knew about the pregnancy. If he didn’t, he would soon enough: Selden was selling his apartment and moving in with Wendy.

“What is Wendy doing?” Seymour asked, having seen Selden take his seat.

“I think she’s going to give a speech before the movie starts,” Nico said.

“No,” Seymour hissed. “I mean with Selden and Shane. It isn’t right.”

“They’re all grown-ups.” She shrugged.

“It isn’t very nice to Shane,” Seymour said, taking Shane’s side.

“No, but he deserves it. He was the one who wanted to leave,” Nico said. “Besides, you never liked him.”

“And I’m not sure I like Selden any better,” Seymour said primly.

“He’s okay . . . I think,” Nico added.

She glanced down the row again. Shane was still staring straight ahead . . . no, now he was fussing with Tyler’s jacket. Tyler had that look on his face like he was about to have a temper tantrum. He was squirming and kicking the seat in front of him. Selden was watching Tyler, surreptiously, perhaps wondering if he ought to step in. Shane was now trying to ignore both Tyler and Selden.

This was almost better than a movie, Nico thought.

Selden kept glancing over at Shane . . . he is going to step in, Nico thought. And sure enough, Selden leaned across the seat. He said what looked like “Hey, buddy,” to Shane—the universal male greeting. Now Shane had to look at him. Selden was trying to be friendly . . . he was holding out his hand. Shane had to take it. And then, Selden was leaning over, saying something to Tyler. Tyler was momentarily distracted from his impending temper tantrum. Selden was making a funny face and Tyler was laughing. Shane looked put out, but now Selden was saying something to him again, trying to put him at his ease. Good for Selden, Nico thought, sitting back in her seat. She was happy to see that he was taking control of the situation and trying to do the right thing. She really was going to try to like him. Maybe things would work out happily for Wendy and Selden. In any case, Wendy certainly deserved some happiness in her personal life.

The lights in the theater dimmed and everyone quieted down. And then there was a spotlight, and there was Wendy hurrying down the aisle. Someone handed her a microphone and she walked up the steps and onto the stage.

People started clapping. Softly at first, and then with more and more enthusiasm. They loved her, Nico thought. There was so much affection for her from the crowd, which was filled not just with the stars and industry people, but with the crew and their families. They adored her—this woman who had made so many people’s dreams come true. For a few seconds, Wendy stood in the spotlight—so poised, Nico thought—nodding and taking in the applause. Then she cleared her throat and everyone laughed and the applause died down.

“Good evening, everyone. I’m Wendy Healy, and I’m the president of Parador Pictures, and I’m thrilled to welcome you tonight to the world premiere of Ragged Pilgrims. This film is . . . finally finished!” (That got an appreciative burst of laughter.) “And it’s been a six-year labor of love on the part of so many people involved, people who never gave up on their vision of someday seeing this amazing story on the screen . . .”

And how pretty Wendy looked, Nico thought. Her eyes slid down to the end of the row. Shane was frowning, and Selden, with his new long straight hair, was looking up at Wendy proudly. Then Shane looked over at Selden with annoyance. Well, too bad, Nico thought. Shane was beginning to lose his looks. His face was red and puffy, but maybe that was only due to some cosmetic procedure, like a laser peel. There was another huge burst of applause, and Wendy was walking off the stage and up the aisle toward her seat, stopping every few feet to kiss someone or shake a hand. She looked up and caught Nico’s eye. Nico waved and gave her a thumbs-up sign.

There was a little commotion in the aisle, and Victory and Lyne came hurrying down, brushing their hands over their heads. Victory slid into the seat next to Nico, her cheeks red from the cold. “It’s finally snowing,” she said, leaning over to give Nico a quick kiss. “We had to walk half a block. Lyne nearly had a heart attack.” She glanced past Nico and Seymour and the kids to Wendy and waved at her. “Look at Wendy and her two men!” she exclaimed to Nico in a whisper.

“I know.” Nico nodded.

“I knew it would come to this someday,” Lyne grumbled. “First women are taking over the world, and now they’ve got two men. You’d think one would be enough . . .”

Nico and Victory exchanged glances and laughed. “Every woman knows that you need to combine at least two men to make one decent one.” Victory squeezed Lyne’s hand playfully as the lights dimmed, and the theater went black.

Was that what every woman needed—two men? Nico thought, sitting back in her seat. It was so interesting. When they were in their twenties, they’d been frightened of not even finding one man . . . and there were still so many women in their thirties looking for that one guy. And here was Wendy, with two! And in her forties. When everyone tried to tell women they were washed up, at least sexually . . . well, that was certainly a lie. Hard work kept you young, kept you vibrant. It was the secret that men knew: If you wanted to attract the opposite sex, all you had to do was to become successful and powerful.

The Parador logo came up on the screen, and everyone began clapping. There was a party scene set in New York just before the war, and over that was Wendy’s credit: “Produced by Wendy Healy.” From the opposite end of the row, Selden Rose emitted a whoop of appreciation, and Nico nodded to herself approvingly. What she’d told Seymour was true: Now that Selden was with Wendy, he would never be a threat. Not only because Wendy wouldn’t let him be, but also because, Nico suspected, he would no longer want to be. Nico guessed that Selden was like most men: He was ambitious because he thought that was the way a man should be. Meanwhile, he probably secretly wanted to retire. And once Wendy had his baby, he would certainly be different. He would fall in love with that child, probably want to spend all his time with it. She did hope, for Wendy’s sake, that he would keep working, at least for a little while. Imagine having to support two men and four children!

* * *

“THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS TO me,” Kirby said bitterly, wa