Bergdorf Blondes by Plum Sykes Read Free Book Online

myself,” and suddenly they all started acting very interested in Julie’smind, whereupon she sweetly announced, “Excuse me. I have to go kill myself in the ladies’ room.”
    While she was away, I explained that this is completely normal, it’s just what Julie always does when she’s really bored by the company and thinks people are interested in her only for her fortune and not for her sparkling personality. All the boys looked shamefully guilty so I said, “Don’t feel bad! Everyone except me likes Julie for her money, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. She’s completely used to it, I mean, even her friends in nursery school only played with her because their parents told them she was rich.”
    I think I managed to diffuse an abundantly awkward atmosphere because everyone looked very relieved and started asking me where Julie’s wealth came from. Sometimes I feel pretty sorry for the Park Avenue Princesses: they only have to turn their backs for two seconds, and suddenly everyone’s asking how much they’re worth, or are going to be worth, as though they were a biotech stock or something. Naturally I said that I couldn’t divulge anything as private as the source of the Bergdorf family fortune.
    “She’s a Bergdorf ? No wonder her hair’s the perfect blonde,” said a dark-haired girl sitting opposite. “Do you think she’d get me in with Ariette?”
    New York girls are always asking favors from complete strangers. They take the thing about the land of opportunity completely literally.
    Anyway, while Julie was not really killing herself in the restroom, something amazing happened. I had a PH sighting. At a table in the far corner I glimpsed a potentially perfect man: tallish, leanish, with dark hair, and even darker eyes, he was wearing a suit but no black tie. (I worship a man who throws caution to the wind like that and doesn’t wear a tie when he should.) But no, seriously, he was handsome beyond belief, I mean, he was totally giving Jude Law. I completely lost my appetite on the spot, exactly like I do when I hear Tchaikovsky’s pas de deux from Swan Lake . Some things are just so romantic they make you feel like you’ll never eat again. Humphrey Bogart only has to blink at Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca and I’m literally in danger of starvation unless I’m not careful.
    Julie returned to the table and I pointed out the gorgeous PH to her, very discreetly, of course.
    “Hmmm. He looks cute- ish , I guess,” she said unenthusiastically. “But, you know, he looks a little, well, cool. You know what I mean, like maybe too cool to be engaged to me or anything trad like that.”
    “But maybe…I mean, you never know, he…he could be dying to be someone’s fiancé, just to…” I trailed off, mesmerized. “I mean, all fiancés are single until they’re fiancés, right?”
    Everyone at the table was staring at me like I was totally dumb. I wasn’t making any sense. I remembergetting very confused about what I was saying, which is the effect all Jude Law types have on me. You should have seen me after The Talented Mr. Ripley ; I couldn’t read or write for a week.
    “You looking for ’usband?” said the Italian to Julie. “Surely this is not romantic, to be so, ’ow do you say eet?… sistematico .”
    “Maurizio, what’s unromantic is all those girls who are looking for a husband but pretending they’re not because they think it’s politically correct. There’s nothing more romantic than a girl who likes to be in love and is open about it,” replied Julie. She paused and gazed at him flirtatiously. “Fiancés are beyond glamorous in this town. I think one would look really cute on my arm, don’t you?”
    Maurizio swallowed.
    “’Ow can you treat a man like a fashion accessory?” he said.
    “I’m an expert,” sighed Julie. “I learned it from my boyfriends.”
    Completely on Julie’s behalf I took it upon myself to perform a reconnaissance trip to the other side of the