AT 7 P.M., DRESSED in a lavender-and-white silk print by Mary Beth Downey, her favorite new designer, Regan sat waiting on the sofa which she had been thrilled to discover was indeed a pullout. Thank you, Bernadette Castro, she thought as she watched Veronica flutter around, trying on and rejecting various accessories. Regan had convinced Lady Exner that nobody dressed in formal evening wear the first night out. Reluctantly Veronica had abandoned the silver lamé ball gown in which she’d planned to make her grand entrance. Instead she settled for a simple blue crepe, one of the few items in her wardrobe that did not seem inspired by the drug culture.

With rapt attention Veronica again sprayed her already stiffened blond hair. Regan had been keeping count. That was the twelfth time in the last fifteen minutes. Regan was about to warn Veronica that it was getting late when Veronica reached for her purse. Regan stood up as Veronica squealed, “I almost forgot!”

“What is it, Veronica?” Regan asked anxiously. “Your medicine?”

“No. No. My cigarette holder.” Veronica reached into the top drawer of the bureau and pulled out a leather case. She unzipped it and shook out a highly polished silver cigarette holder and an open pack of Benson & Hedges.

“Veronica, I’ve never seen you smoke.”

“Of course I don’t smoke. I simply give the appearance,” Veronica answered gaily as she jammed a stale-looking cigarette into the holder.

Incredulous, Regan asked, “Why?”

“On our trips Penelope and I sit at a group table whenever possible. The nonsmokers’ table is always filled with dreary reformed smokers who never want to have any fun. The people at the smokers’ table have a reckless edge which I find intriguing.”

Not a great commercial for the American Cancer Society, Regan thought as she tucked another allergy pill in her purse.

As they started down the hall to the small elevator which only served the two penthouses, the night steward approached them. Tall, stick-thin, with round glasses resting on a shiny nose and slicked-back brown hair, he looked to Regan like a college freshman. His voice had a hint of cockney as he asked if everything was satisfactory. After assuring him that it was, Veronica inquired about the occupants of the other suite. “I’m so anxious to meet them,” Veronica bubbled. “Do you know who they are?”

The elevator arrived and the steward held the door open for them. “That suite is empty this crossing. You’ll have total privacy up here.” He released the door. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Chapter 14