One Fifth Avenue - Candace Bushnell [94]
“Jesus Christ, Lola. It’s three in the morning,” he said.
“I was having fun.” She giggled.
“I can see that.”
“I tried to call you,” she protested innocently. “But you didn’t answer your phone.”
“Uh-huh,” Philip said.
“It’s not my fault,” she insisted. “This is what happens when you don’t answer your phone.”
“Good night,” Philip said coldly. He turned and went into the bedroom.
“Fine,” she said. She went into the kitchen. She was angry. This wasn’t the reception she’d been expecting. She marched into the bedroom to confront Philip about his attitude. “I had fun, okay?” she said. “Is that such a big deal?”
“Go to sleep. Or go to your own apartment.”
She decided to try a different tactic. She slipped her hand under the covers and put her fingers over his penis. “Don’t you want to have fun?”
He pointedly removed her hand. “Go to bed. Please. If you can’t sleep, go to the couch.”
Lola glared at him, slowly took off her clothes, and got into bed. Philip was lying there with his eyes shut tight. She lay down next to him. Then she rolled onto her side. Then she accidentally kicked him with her foot.
He sat up. “I mean it,” he said. “If you can’t sleep, you should go to the couch.”
“What is your problem?” she said.
“Look,” he said. “I need to get some sleep. I have a big day tomorrow.”
“Take it easy,” she said. “I’ll take a sleeping pill.”
“That’s always the solution, isn’t it?” Philip muttered. “A pill.”
“You’re the pill,” Lola said.
She didn’t fall asleep right away. She lay in the dark, hating Philip. He was no fun, and she probably should break up with him and go out with Thayer. But then she thought about Thayer’s apartment again, and how he had no money and was basically an asshole. If she broke up with Philip, she’d be back where she was when she started in New York. Living in that tiny apartment on Eleventh Street and going to destructor parties every night. There would be no movie openings, no dinners at the Waverly Inn, no rubbing shoulders with glamour. She needed to stay with Philip for at least a little while. Either until he married her, or something happened and she became famous in her own right.
The next morning, Philip greeted her with a chilly “Good morning.” Lola’s head felt like a bowling ball, but for once, she didn’t complain, knowing she needed to mollify him. She dragged herself out of bed and went into the bathroom, where he was shaving. She sat down on the toilet seat, put her arms between her legs, and looked up at him through her mess of dark hair. “Don’t be mad at me,” she said. “I didn’t know you’d be so upset.”
Philip put down his razor and looked at her. Last night, after the embarrassment of running into Schiffer and then lying alone in his bed waiting for Lola to come home, he’d begun to wonder what he’d gotten himself into. Maybe Nini was right: He was too old to be dating a twenty-two-year-old. But what was he supposed to do? Schiffer Diamond was obsessed with her career and didn’t need him. He supposed he could find a nice, accomplished woman who was his age, like Sondra, but that might mean accepting the fact that the exciting part of his sex life was over. He couldn’t do it. It was the equivalent of giving up.
And here was gorgeous Lola Fabrikant, in his bathroom, contrite and pliable. He sighed. “Okay, Lola,” he said. “Just don’t do it again.”
“I won’t,” she said, jumping up. “I promise. Oh, Philip, I love you so much.” And she went back to bed.
Philip smiled. Where did she pick up her crazy ideas about love? he wondered. “Hey, Lola,” he called. “Why don’t you make us some breakfast?”
She laughed. “You know I don’t cook.”
“Maybe you should learn.”
“Why?” she asked. Philip finished shaving, examining his skin in the mirror. He’d had young girlfriends before, but none had been quite like Lola, he thought. Usually, the young women were much more accommodating. He took a step back and patted his face, shaking his head. Who was he kidding? Schiffer Diamond had been much wilder than Lola. But he’d been in love with