S O I R E E
"Don't fight with me on this, King!" Dilecta Kenthurst nee Tyrone, a tall statuesque blonde, said whilst stepping back and forth the floor of Kenthurst mansion's study in her solid gold 3-inch heels and with her hands on her hips like a 1930's mannequin.
She was wearing a gold lame half skirt, black and white polka dot blouse and black stretch jacket. Large golden earrings and an orange feather in her black hat swayed to the pace of her turns. "It's not like you have a better idea of how are we going to reintroduce our daughter back to society!"
Angry Kingsley Arthur Kenthurst IV sat behind his massive mahogany desk in his throne-like chair against the backdrop of a dramatic Goya painting. "You know very well I don't in a situtation like this but this charade of yours, 'Remembering Hayden' printed on the invitations when -thank Lord!- she's alive."
"You make it sound like a village road show! All I want that Bel Air's best families are here welcome Hayden back into a community that loves and respects her!" "Remembering Hayden," King repeated. "Except, surprise, she is not dead and appears to them at midnight in a white dress like an angel from a grave, I suppose.
I thought you gave up cheap productions years ago." King remarked with a hint of unpleasant smile.
Dilecta stopped and gave the ex-husband a hateful look from her sapphire blue eyes over his dig at her failed career in a theater. "There is no easy way of doing this. I can't print on the invitations that Hayden is alive. Everyone would think it as a cruel joke. "
"Have it your way then," King said raising his hands as a sign of surrender, "but why right here in the house? Invite them to the hotel, Le Colline. "
"Don't be stupid! This is our daughter's home." Dilecta rejected.
Even at Le Colline there would be a hundred money-hungry cleaners, piccolos and who knows what hired help, running to the phone to call to the tabloids as soon as they see a glimpse of her. Or do you mean...? "
"Yes!" King retorted. "Sastabel. Everyone knows you can't stand her. And now you would have a soiree here in her home.
"Your JEZEBEL walked out of this house and shant come back even if you send her all the roses and jewelry in the state of California." Dilecta mocked.
"But she already did," a woman's voice said from the door. Sastabel Kenthurst nee Carolus, wife number two, stood in the arched marble doorway, originally from a Renaissance Venetian palace.
A smile rose to King's golden bearded face like rays of morning sun behind Aon Center. Sastabel was a taller-than-average woman but lost to Dilecta, especially without heels. A perfectly smooth black Cleopatra hair landed onto the shoulder pads of her navy blue silk trouser suit,
the haircolor was reminiscent of Sastabel's Cherokee blood just like her golden brown eyes, which were accentuated by a yellow pearl necklace.
"So I see," Dilecta launched the attack. "When did you move back?" Sastabel laughed and cyclamen red lips rose to a graceful smile. "Why, I don't think that 's any of you business but to satisfy your curiosity, soon after Hayden disappeared.
Sastabel walked behind King and laid her hands gently to his shoulders. "I wouldn't have been much of an wife if I hadn't come back to support my husband then. And to share his joy when it was all a mistake. "
"You have never been able to stand with my daughter!" Dilecta accused. "You probably would have been pleased if..." "Enough of this," King interrupted. "We relent. Have your party here. "
"That's more like it," Dilecta said and sat down to a burgundy antique armchair with golden legs arranging her own sculptural legs. "Let's see; the guest list must finalized and I do welcome your input on this. Senator Fontisque firstly and the Saitzingers... "
"The Cales?" Sastabel interrupted sarcastically. "Well, of course. Brock is a Cale and althought I have not been close to the show business side of the family myself, they are prominent people of Bel Air. "
"It's gratifying to note that even you can put your personal feelings aside every now and then," Sastabel said, "but shall we continue this in the library? King needs his peace. " "Certainly," Dilecta said, rose from the chair and sashayed towards the library.
"Actually, I think we are wasting our time," Dilecta continued to push Sastabel's buttons. "I have everything ready except for the guest list and I do believe it is best that I take care of it myself. You can't possibly know the circles as well as I do. After all, you've been Mrs Kenthurst for such a short time - minus the separation."
Sastabel did not take the bait, instead she wandered around the room, touching absent mindedly its valuables.
"Of course I don't want to exclude you," Dilecta carried on, "everyone has their own area of expertise and there's no shame in being a make-up artist. Speaking of which...
"Dilecta held out her pale hand and looked pretentionsly at her long amber-colored nails. "Should I get my nails done before the soiree?"
"There are so many books in this room." Sastabel said. "I'm sure you'll find one about falconry, keyword TALONS. "
Dilecta laughed joylessly. "Very witty. I can see that you have picked up a thing or two from me. " "I wouldn't pick you up, Dilecta, even if you were lying dead on a floor but let's stop the pissing contest now, shall we?"
"Oh my, Sastabel! How very low-class of you but then again... " "Have you any idea how ridiculous you are?" "Ridiculous!" "Yes, because there you go on about your soirees and guest lists and yet not one word..."
"About what?" "About why your daughter drove her car off that cliff."
"It was an accident!" Dilecta screamed, rushing towards the other woman. "You hear me! An accident! "
Sastabel did not answer, she only swept the hairs Dilecta's cry had blown off to her forehead back into their place with a regal look on her wise Native American face. To be continued