Just then Mariah Carey’s dance mix version of “Dreamlover” bumped through the speakers and Lolly bopped off to join a triad of gays with DandyZ at the center who were screaming their approval at the song choice.

Steven swore, angry with himself for wasting precious time. Lolly was in no condition to handle her assignment, but then Steven spotted Murf, dressed as Kanye West, sandwiched between Daler and Rowney, the only two girls at the party tall enough for him. (Daler and Rowney were in all green, a pair of Versace and D&G green beans.) Steven danced over to Murf and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him away from the dancing models.

“Dude,” Steven said. “I need an assist.” He pointed at Alexander and Eleanor, who were now standing by the bar.

“Fuck a duck, that’s no bueno,” Murf mumbled, and pulled out his phone. “I’ll text the Vronsk, but I dunno if his kilt’s got pockets.”

The boys quickly decided Steven would run interference, while Murf went in search of Anna and Vronsky. Before they could separate, a barefoot Beatrice was by their side. “I spy with my little eye … trouble with a capital T.”

“We’re on it,” Steven replied. Murf nodded and started making his way through the dance floor.

“Mr. Wick, shall we?” Bea asked, placing her hand on Steven’s arm. The two of them left the dance floor and walked together right into the lion’s mouth, approaching Alexander and Eleanor, who were both holding glasses of sparkling water.

“Dude, what’s up?” Steven said to Alexander, keeping his voice casual. “Didn’t know you were in town this weekend. Hi, Eleanor.”

“Hello, Beatrice.” Alexander ignored Steven to say hello to Beatrice, which was what proper etiquette demanded in mixed company. The lady must be greeted first. “You know my sister, Eleanor, right?”

“Of course,” Beatrice replied snippily. She hated people who stated the obvious like it could pass as conversation. Beatrice leaned in to give Eleanor an air kiss, but Eleanor took a step back.

“Ooh, sorry,” Eleanor said, not sounding sorry at all. “I’m not good with touching a stranger’s bare skin. Aren’t you cold? Why are you so shiny? Is that glitter?”

“Body glitter,” Beatrice said. “The kind strippers use.”

“Where’s Anna?” Alexander asked, as uncomfortable with Beatrice’s outfit as his half-sister was, though he was better at hiding it. “She’s here, right?”

“Of course,” Beatrice said. “She’s probably flitting around somewhere. It is a party, after all.” She didn’t bother keeping the edge out of her voice, which was probably due to the three fat lines of blow she had done already.