“Stick with me, babe, and I’ll teach you all sorts of things,” Rocco said, and then Edie heard the unmistakable and horrifying sound of a kiss.
“Barf,” Edie whispered. “Are you kissing him?”
“Oh, I think that’s dinner at the door,” Marcy said.
“I’ll get it,” Rocco said.
“Stop it, Nana,” Marcy whispered harshly.
“I’m sorry, but I want to punch him in the face,” Edie whispered back.
Rocco’s voice again. Edie could hear a cart rolling in, the sound of covers being lifted off plates. “No, over there,” Rocco directed. “I want her to see the Eiffel Tower.”
There were more sounds of dinner being set up, then Rocco dismissing the waiter.
“I’m starving,” Marcy said. “Would you like some scotch?”
“Thanks, that would be great,” Rocco agreed.
Edie sipped her drink and listened to Rocco wax philosophically of his prowess on the video gameGrand Theft Auto. “I’m what’s considered a master,” he said. “I’ve finished more story lines than probably anyone else in history.”
“How great for humanity,” Edie muttered. She heard more drinks being poured.
Rocco continued to talk. Now, about cars. He’d gone to an auto show in New York and had put down money for a Genesis Magma.
“What’s that?” Marcy asked.
“A car, baby,” he said, and the condescension in his voice was like nails on Edie’s internal chalkboard. “It’s got an E-GMP platform, 600 horsepower.”
“Sounds so cool.”
“Sounds like a moron,” Edie said. “Does he notice he’s not the only one at the dinner table? This man likes to hear himself talk.”
“You been to Coachella?” Rocco asked Marcy.
“I haven’t. Let me top that off for you.” Edie heard the scrape of Marcy’s chair.
“Thanks, babe. Yeah, I was there last year. Hung out backstage with Lana Del Rey,” he added with a sniff.
“Bullshit,” Edie whispered.
“I’m just going to step in the powder room,” Marcy said. “Here’s your drink.”
Now all Edie could hear was the hard click of Marcy’s heels marching across the room, background to the rub of her dress against the mic. A moment later, she hissed into Edie’s ear, “Will you please cut it out? He’s just talking. You are making this so much harder than it already is.”
“The only thing missing from his monologue is his workout routine,” Edie shot back. “But fine. I’ll shut up.”
Marcy flushed the toilet and went back out.
“I could probably get you a meet-and-greet when she’s in Vegas next,” Rocco said. Then he chuckled. “Vegas. Is it just me, or does that word sound kind of funny?”
“I would love to meet her, Rocco,” Marcy purred. “You need another ice cube. Let me get that for you.”
“You work out, Marce?” Rocco said, his voice sounding a little thick. “I benched two sundred last week. Hundred.”
“Wow, that’sincredible.”
“Takes a lot of commit. Ment.”
