Page 43 of Dark Ugly Places

So it is her. Bambi. Bambi Redfern. The model. His wife.

Peeking through the gap, I can see them. The first woman —Bambi—in her all-white, stunning, skin-tight dress. The other woman in a red number with Louboutin high heels.

“He’ll be fine,” Bambi answers, her voice flat.

“Well, thank God. I seriously can’t believe they fucked up the menu that badly.”

“I can,” Bambi answers. “I mean, just look at this place. Love the shoes, by the way.”

“My favorites. But you know what? I wasn’t even going to bother because it’s not exactly the Ritz. Am I right?”

Bambi smiles slightly and nods. “Yeah, it’s disgusting. And you know what Jason’s like with his allergy.”

I angle myself to see more of the woman in red. She’s a blonde with a wide, flat face and small, menacing eyes, made smaller by too much eyeliner and fake eyelashes. She dips forward, jiggles her breasts into position within her bra, and then straightens to look at her cleavage.

“I’m so sorry, babe. This place is totally rank.”

Bambi stills, but her lips form a smirk. “Whitney. Don’t be cruel.”

Whitney—the woman in red—sneers. “What? They always pick the worst locations.”

They both look at each other in the mirror and say simultaneously, as if mimicking, “It’s still Beverly Hills!” and burst out laughing.

“So, what’s happening with your help situation?”

Bambi turns, staring at her. “What do you mean?”

“You know, I thought Lucita wasn’t working out or whatever?”

“Oh,” Bambi replies. “No, she’s fine. But I did something a little crazy.”

Whitney turns to look at Bambi. “What did you do?”

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“My lips are sealed.”

Bambi hesitates and lowers her voice. “I put up an ad on Craigslist. I just posted it.”

“Oh. Honey. No. You should use my agency. They have really great people.”

Bambi shakes her head and goes back into her purse for lipstick. She pouts and reapplies. “No.” A smack of her lips together. A ring finger wiping some off the side. Blotting with a hand towel. “I would rather no one really know about it. That’s why I made the post anonymous—Beverly Hills Home Assistant. That’s how I titled it so no one would know.”

Whitney’s eyes widen. “Oooh. A secret. I love secrets.”

“Well, it’s just that if she’s going to work in the house with me, I don’t really want someone from someone we know. You know?”

Whitney stares at her, totally blank. “Not really. Isn’t it, like, important to trust the help?”

“I will trust her.”

Whitney laughs a little. Her face takes on a mocking expression. “Bambs. Is this really a good idea? I mean, I can hook you up with someone …”

“No, but thanks. I really want someone different. Someone who hasn’t worked in other houses.”

“Seriously? You can’t just go with any random person off the street. They could be a murderer or something!”

Bambi shakes her head. “Look, it’s just a gut feeling. I need someone who isn’t going to be all over Jason, trying to talk to him, get autographs or selfies with him.”