Lies and Weddings(81)
Freddy grinned. “You bet! You know what’s special about these?”
“Oh I know, they’re the Flu Game Air Jordans, the ones Michael wore in the 1997 NBA Finals when he had the flu but still won against the Utah Jazz.”
“Yes, but these are the actual pair he wore,” Freddy said proudly, putting his feet up on the table, removing one of the shoes, and holding it up to Achilles’s astonished face. “Look, there’s even the snot stain where he sneezed in the shoe. He was changing out of them in the middle of the game when he had a sneezing fit. It was televised, and I have video documentation of that sneeze.”
“Holy moly! Look at that beautiful snot! You’re a very lucky man, Mr. Farman-Farmihian. Arnold Palmers, zucchini crisps, and pigs in blankets to start?”
“You read my mind! And let’s add the fish tacos too. Eden, you’re gonna looooove their fish tacos. Achilles, Eden’s my friend visiting from England.”
“Cheerio.” Achilles flashed a smile at Eden as he leaned in close to Freddy’s ear and said in a low voice, “You wanna know who else is visiting from England today? A certain British pop star who wants to be an actor having lunch with a certain A-list producer, a certain billionaire film investor kid, and also a legendary supermodel and her influencer daughter, and the daughter’s boyfriend, who also wants to act.”[*3]
“Where are they sitting?” Freddy asked, looking around.
Achilles tilted his head surreptitiously in the direction of the Cabana Room.
Freddy turned to Eden and whispered loudly, “Don’t look now, but when you get a chance, look through that set of French doors and you’re gonna see some famous celebs you might recognize.”
Eden turned slowly, peering into the glassed-in room.
“Do you see him? One of the biggest pop stars in the world having lunch with an A-list producer, that supermodel from the nineties, and her daughter and—”
“My father,” Eden muttered.
“What?”
“That’s my father sitting in there!” Eden said in disbelief.
Freddy stood up to see more clearly. Sure enough, seated inside at the far end of the table between the British pop star and the supermodel was Dr. Thomas Tong.
Skip Notes
*1 Don’t even ask what’s happening here. It would violate the NDA signed by a former employee of a certain huge-ass estate.
*2 A most unfortunate incident at the Ritz Paris in the eighties involving a just-delivered Christian Lacroix pouf dress, a pot of hot chocolate, and a Maltese gigolo.
*3 Out of respect for their privacy, these high-profile individuals will not be identified by their names (or their schools).
II
La Cienega Villas
WEST HOLLYWOOD ? LUNCHTIME
“Aren’t you gonna say hi?” Freddy asked excitedly.
“I’m not sure…,” Eden demurred, the shock of seeing her father here in Los Angeles suddenly paralyzing her in her seat. “I think he’s with his patient, and I reckon he wouldn’t want to be disturbed…”
“Of course he would!” Freddy said, getting up and striding boldly into the Cabana Room. Eden watched curiously as all the heads swiveled from Freddy to her. Her father stood up, looking in astonishment through the window at her. She knew her father had gone to treat one of his VIP patients who was gravely ill, and she had assumed he was in Asia, where most of his VIP patients tended to be. She never asked where he was off to on his medical trips, as she had too much respect for the oath of doctor-patient confidentiality to pry into his medical affairs.
The pop star got up from his seat and poked his head out the door. “Oi! Eden? Get over here!” He waved excitedly. Eden could not believe that the famous pop star was yelling her name. She walked over and felt as if she were having an out-of-body experience as he gave her a big bear hug. As she entered the room, the hugfest continued; first her father, then the producer, the supermodel, her daughter, and even the daughter’s boyfriend got up and hugged her.[*]
“You didn’t know you were both in town at the same time?” the pop star asked, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he glanced from father to daughter.
“No, we didn’t,” Eden said. “This was a spur-of-the-moment trip for me.”
“For…for me as well,” Thomas stammered, looking completely shocked.
“Thomas Tong, why have you been hiding your stunning daughter from us?” the producer declared.
“Obviously because of you!” the supermodel shot back as everyone laughed.
The only person at the table who hadn’t acknowledged Eden was an overly muscular Asian guy in his midtwenties dressed in extra-tight gym clothes and chunky gold-rimmed sunglasses slouching at the end of the banquette. He stared into space disinterestedly before suddenly blurting out: “I was at an auction at Sotheby’s in Hong Kong, bidding on a Murakami. And some bastard at the back of the room kept bidding against me. Finally I turned around to check out my competition and saw that it was my dad!”
“You’re kidding! And you didn’t know he’d be there bidding on the painting?” the producer asked.
“I didn’t even know he was in Hong Kong! The fucker never told me where he ever went from day to day.”