Chapters (67)
- Cover
- “And may I say, those shoes are adorable.”
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- ( I )
- ( one )
- ( two )
- ( three )
- ( four )
- ( five )
- ( six )
- ( seven )
- ( eight )
- ( nine )
- ( ten )
- ( II )
- ( eleven )
- ( twelve )
- ( thirteen )
- ( fourteen )
- ( fifteen )
- ( III )
- ( sixteen )
- ( seventeen )
- ( eighteen )
- ( nineteen )
- ( IV )
- ( twenty )
- ( twenty-one )
- ( twenty-two )
- ( twenty-three )
- ( twenty-four )
- ( V )
- ( twenty-five )
- ( twenty-six )
- ( twenty-seven )
- ( twenty-eight )
- ( twenty-nine )
- VI
- ( thirty )
- ( thirty-one )
- ( thirty-two )
- ( thirty-three )
- ( thirty-four )
- ( VII )
- ( thirty-five )
- ( thirty-six )
- ( thirty-seven )
- ( thirty-eight )
- ( thirty-nine )
- ( forty )
- ( forty-one )
- ( forty-two )
- ( VIII )
- ( forty-three )
- ( forty-four )
- ( forty-five )
- ( forty-six )
- ( forty-seven )
- ( forty-eight )
- ( forty-nine )
- ( fifty )
- ( fifty-one )
- Acknowledgments
- Acknowledgments
- Questions for Discussion
I’ll tell Robert I’ve been robbed…I was coming out of Zachari’s shop with my new shoes and a man came at me in the dark street and demanded I hand over my purse. Yes, that’s it. No—no, he’ll want to get the police involved. Can’t have that.
Two doormen descended the steps, their feet squelching on the drenched blue carpet. One of them carried a cushioned dining chair.
The driver opened her door and held up an umbrella, while the doormen set down the chair.
“If madame would like to sit, we will assist her to the house without damage to those beautiful red shoes.”
“Thank you. Don’t mind if I do.”
Lifting the hem of the crimson silk Natalia Goncharova dress with daringly low cowl neck and gathered slightly at the left hip beneath a pearl decoration (she’d had it made for the opening of the Exposition but in the end had worn Chanel) and taking very special care of the Zachari shoes, Genevieve slid out onto the dining chair and was lifted up, one man to each side of her.
I’ll say I fainted at Zachari’s and had to go home for a lie-down. I threw up. I was all over the place—it took all my strength and determination to get here at all, I’m still so very wan…
They set her down in the hallway and she handed her cloak to an attendant. She could hear music and voices.
The doors to the ballroom were opened for her entrance.
The band was playing something frenzied and experimental while dancers, dressed in dizzy stripes, mad zigzags, disc-shaped and conical hats, capered about the dance floor. Nouveaux Riches flirted with Old Money beneath the towering Léger metal sculptures. Beauty conversed with Bohemia against a backdrop of Delaunay fabric collages in green, red, blue and shimmering yellow. The serving staff wove back and forth, bearing their trays aloft. Norman Betterson stroked his chin. Violet de Frémont, in a pair of perfect hot pink pumps that could only have been made by Paolo Zachari, clawed at the arm of Count Etienne, her portly husband. Guy Monteray, in a far corner, raised one hand to his forehead in a strange salute. The ice phallus dripped.
Robert had broken away from Count Duvel and was striding across the room.
Genevieve panicked. “I…I was sick on a man in a dark alley.”
Lulu rushed forward. “Vivi…”
“I had to go home and change. I…”
“My darling.” Robert put a hand on her arm. “I think you’d better come with me.”
“What the—”
“You should do as he says, chérie.” Lulu had the other arm.
The band struck up a jazz number with an infectious, toe-tapping beat, and the dance floor instantly filled with people. Genevieve glimpsed their swirling dresses and laughing faces as she was led from the room.