“Yes, I snored,” I echoed patiently. “And the doctor told me that was because my nasal passage was as curvy as Mulholland Drive. It was a deviated septum. He didn’t break my nose, but there ended up being a slight cosmetic change because of the procedure.”

“You had a nose job?” Dave asked.

“I told you, it wasn’t a ‘nose job.’ It was a deviated septum procedure.” I enunciated the medical term carefully. I had long ago gotten this story down.

“You never told me you had any plastic surgery.” Dave looked very concerned, although I didn’t know why he was worried—we weren’t having lunch with his mom, and she hadn’t just spilled the beans about any elective surgery he might have had.

So ended the fun part of our brunch. Mom took over the conversation, talking about Jenny from work and her manager who was married but who she was sure was gay. I nodded and smiled at what felt like appropriate times. I was glad for the stolen Xanax and the semi-sunglasses that I’d kept on through lunch. I could covertly keep my eyes on Dave. His hand stayed on the arm of his white wicker chair. The waiter cleared away the plates and brought the coffee and plate of home-baked cookies. The check came and Mom fought to grab it out of the waiter’s hand. Luckily, Dave won out, but not before the table of chicks celebrating a bridal shower noticed and mocked Mom’s efforts. People with money and class don’t worry about checks; they didn’t care who paid because the Company always paid, so it wasn’t a big gesture to pick up a tab. Universal and Paramount probably paid for seventy percent of all meals consumed in Hollywood.

There was a hug good-bye and more perfume. Mom seemed a little loose. I was glad Carolyn was going to drive the rental car back to Anaheim. I reminded her to watch the “Marilyn” episode of Flesh and Bone tonight—hoping she wouldn’t ask to watch it with me, because I planned to do that alone with Dave.

“You’re just so pretty, so pretty—you’re very lucky, Danielle,” she told me.

“Thanks, Mom, I love you.” But I said the words while we were embracing, looking over her shoulder to where the hot dog cart used to be.

Dave and I drove in silence up to Sunset. After ten minutes, he finally spoke. “They charged me for six rum and Cokes.”

“What?”

“Your mom and her friend were spiking their drinks. The management must have seen them with their little bottle under the table and they charged me.”

“I didn’t see her spike her drink,” I said. “You saw her? You’re sure? That’s crazy.”