Sugar and I are at a cocktail party wearing a beaded black dress made out of material that reminds me of a shower curtain. We smile demurely at several well-dressed people walking by before poking at a canapé in our gloved hand. The men nod with wide open smiles. The women: with tight-lipped ones. We are standing in front of a buffet table in what seems to be a banquet room of a posh country club. The upholstery and furniture is swank, the drapery: froufrou.
Trudy approaches us in a turquoise beaded evening gown that hugged her legs. “Hunter wants to know what’s taking so long.”
“Ugh, what is with him?” We nibble on the canapé. It is both dry and squishy at the same time, and feels like I’ve poured concrete and caulk down my throat.
Trudy shrugs, “He’s insecure.” We laugh and then whisper towards her ear, “He didn't have a problem with that when the Johns were lining up.”
Trudy hangs her head low toward us, “All those stiffs could offer you were their dicks and a couple of bucks. Senator’s sons can offer you a future.”
We stop chewing and I realize that Sugar must be mulling this over.
“And what are you two conspiring about?” a matronly voice accuses, but there is warmth and mirth behind the question.
We look up, and an upholstered silver-haired woman is staring at us through a raised monocle. Her face and body are both broad and she has slight smirk in the corners.
Sugar smiles without missing a beat, “Oh, we were just making little snide remarks about everyone's attire.”
“As you should, you smart-looking things. I understand you are both models. You know, I’ve always heard that models are invited to the best parties. Perhaps, I should become one?” the woman laughs heartily at her own joke.
Before Sugar can respond with anything clever, a tall ‘golden boy’ with a dazzling smile appears. He has the body of an Olympic swimmer and the gleaming teeth of a toothpaste actor. “I thought I’d find you here,” he addresses the matron but his eye is on Sugar the whole time. As if on cue, the matron says, “Oh, David, you’re just in time to meet my new best friend. This is...I’m sorry dear...What did you say your name was?”
Sugar places a gloved hand in the golden boy’s open palm. “Maddy,” she smiles. “Maddy Walker.”
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