Luxury Lounge

Mad swag, flaunting felines, and Burger King as haute cuisine

The Bitch felt pale and extemporaneous, growling from a corner and lapping champagne. Then she was disturbed by the Easter egglike rainbow of spring pastels and heavy makeup that surrounded her. She spoke briefly with a professional fisherman in lavender gingham and lime green. "It's almost time for marlin season in the Bahamas," he droned as The Bitch watched Sykes smile over his shoulder, proof of her British heritage.

Waiters circulated with empanadas and dumplings. "Chicken won ton?" one of them offered to two socialites in sundresses.

"No thanks," said one, wrinkling her nose.

"They're so big," commented the other, grabbing an approximately two-centimeter won ton with resignation.

It was time to go. Plum would not be sharing her literary fruit, just signing books.

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