Tall Cool One by Zoey Dean Read Free Book Online Page B

the hot sun would save the whales, the redwoods, Tibet, and the universe. She kissed him again and told the second lie of the day.
    “I’d love to.”

Had Kabbalah Reprogrammed Her Neurons?
    S am was confused. The noxious smell that had awakened her was paint. Fresh paint. But fresh paint made no sense. Her father and Poppy had flown in Harry Schnaper, the famous New York interior designer, only three weeks ago. Under Harry’s meticulous direction, the whole upstairs had been redone and repainted. Everything: the bedrooms, the new nursery, even the hallway. So Sam rolled over, buried her nose in her pillow, and pulled her Yves Delorme rose-colored combed Egyptian cotton four-hundred-thread-count sheets over her head.
    But it was no use. The smell was overpowering. Reluctantly, she got of bed, her Sunday morning sleep ruined. As she brushed her hair, she saw her new clothes from Fred Segal hanging in the closet, though she’d left them in the foyer the night before. But the evening housekeeper, a recent immigrant from Belarus named Svetlana, had left the closet doors open. Sam closed them. She was not going to walk around all week smelling like acrylic.
    Then she left her room, following the strong odor to Ruby Hummingbird’s new nursery. Even larger than Sam’s bedroom, it had a small room attached for the soon-to-be-hired live-in nanny.
    “Morning, sleepyhead!” Dee chirped as soon as she saw Sam. “Want to help us?”
    Sam was aghast. There were cans of paint, brushes, and rollers everywhere. All the new furniture in the nursery that Harry had brought in was now covered by drop cloths. Ditto the floor. Two of the walls, which yesterday had been a hand-mixed off-white blend, were red.
    Fire-engine red.
    “Isn’t the color great?” Poppy asked. Like Dee, she held a red roller and wore crisp denim overalls. A smock speckled with red paint ballooned over her belly.
    “For the seventh rung of hell, yes; for a newborn baby’s room, no,” Sam replied.
    “But Ruby Hummingbird resonates with red,” Poppy explained. She showed off her slender wrist, which was encircled by a red Kabbalah string that supposedly warded off evil energies.
    Dee lifted her own wrist and displayed a similar string.
    Suddenly Sam felt a bit dizzy from the paint fumes. “Are you sure this is okay for the baby, Poppy? It reeks in here.”
    “It’s fine,” Poppy assured her. She pointed to an open window. “There’s plenty of ventilation.”
    “Does my dad know about this?”
    Poppy nodded. “Jackson is fine with it. Go ask him, he’s out in the lap pool. You really are going to have to get used to the idea that this house is as much mine as it is yours.”
    Sam rolled her eyes. She knew there was already a betting pool run by assistants around Hollywood over how long the Jackson-Poppy marriage would last; the over/under was fifteen months.
    “Focus on the work, Poppy,” Dee urged. “You don’t want to upset the baby.”
    “Why not? She’s already asphyxiating her,” Sam growled.
    “That is mean and untrue,” Pop retorted. “But Dee is right. It’s important to be serene.”
    “Thank you, Poppy.” Dee practically blushed.
    “Thank
you.
I’m glad Ruby has you, Dee. You’re going to be like a
real
older sister to her.”
    “That’s so sweet, because . . .” Dee’s voice trailed off, and she fixed her huge blue eyes on Sam. “You don’t mind if Ruby Hummingbird has two big sisters, do you, Sam?”
    “Why would I mind?” Sam asked, plotting strategy as she spoke. As little interest as she had in the soon-to-be-born evil spawn, it did tweak her that her stepmother had formed a bond with Dee. Ditzy as Dee might be, Sam was not about to give up one of her chosen friends to the Pop-Tart.
    “Dee, can I talk to you for a sec?” Sam asked sweetly.
    “Sure.”
    “Out here, I meant.”
    Dee smiled at Poppy, put down her paintbrush, and stepped over to the edge of the drop cloth closest to the doorway. Sam kept her voice